Commentary

One of the top stories in the local newspaper recently described an unfortunate incident in which a previously healthy 19-month-old baby was found unresponsive and apneic in a crib at her day-care center. She was successfully resuscitated by the daycare provider but is now blind, has seizures, and no longer walks or talks. According to the day care owner, the child had not settled down during rest time and her talking was preventing the other children from sleeping. This apparently had happened before and the day-care provider had successfully resorted to triple wrapping the child in a blanket and placing her in a crib in a separate room. The day-care provider had checked on the child once and noted she was snoring. When the child failed to wake after the expected interval of time she was found face down with her head partially covered by a pillow.

An investigation of the day-care center is ongoing and no reports or prior violations, warnings, or license suspensions have surfaced at this point. The day-care provider has been charged with aggravated assault and endangering the welfare of a child. The charges could carry a prison sentence of 30 years.

As I reread this very sad story I began wondering how this tragedy is going to unfold in the next months and years. We can assume one young life has already been permanently damaged. Her family will have to deal with the consequences of this event for decades or longer. What about the day-care provider? I hope we can assume that she intended no harm to the child nor had she ignored prior warnings or training about swaddling. Nor does this lapse in judgment fit a previous pattern of behavior. Regardless of what the courts decide she will carry some degree of guilt for the foreseeable future. The day-care center has been closed voluntarily and given that Maine is a small state where word travels fast it is unlikely that it will ever reopen.

Can we imagine any good coming out of this tragedy? It may be that with luck and diligent therapies that the little girl will be able to lead a life she finds rewarding and gives others some pleasure. It is possible that some individuals involved in her life – her parents or therapists – will find the devotion to her care brings new meaning to their lives.

Will the day-care provider find a new career or a cause that can help her restore some of the self worth she may have lost in the wake of the event? Or, will a protracted course through the legal system take its devastating toll on her life and marriage? It is unlikely that she will spend anywhere near 30 years in prison, if any at all. Will the child’s family sue this small family day-care center? It is hard to imagine they will recover anything more than a tiny fraction of the lifetime costs of this child’s care.

It is also unlikely that the message that swaddling children old enough to turn over carries a significant risk will go beyond one or two more stories in the local Maine newspapers. If this child’s father had been a professional football player or her mother had been an actress or U.S. Senator this tragic turn of events could possibly have stirred enough waters to grab national attention, spawn a foundation, or even result in legislation. But, she appears to come from a family with modest means without claims to notoriety. There is no flawed product to ban. She is a victim of ignorance and our failure to educate. As a result, her tragedy and those of thousands of other children will do little more than accumulate as unfortunate statistics.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

One of the top stories in the local newspaper recently described an unfortunate incident in which a previously healthy 19-month-old baby was found unresponsive and apneic in a crib at her day-care center. She was successfully resuscitated by the daycare provider but is now blind, has seizures, and no longer walks or talks. According to the day care owner, the child had not settled down during rest time and her talking was preventing the other children from sleeping. This apparently had happened before and the day-care provider had successfully resorted to triple wrapping the child in a blanket and placing her in a crib in a separate room. The day-care provider had checked on the child once and noted she was snoring. When the child failed to wake after the expected interval of time she was found face down with her head partially covered by a pillow.

An investigation of the day-care center is ongoing and no reports or prior violations, warnings, or license suspensions have surfaced at this point. The day-care provider has been charged with aggravated assault and endangering the welfare of a child. The charges could carry a prison sentence of 30 years.

As I reread this very sad story I began wondering how this tragedy is going to unfold in the next months and years. We can assume one young life has already been permanently damaged. Her family will have to deal with the consequences of this event for decades or longer. What about the day-care provider? I hope we can assume that she intended no harm to the child nor had she ignored prior warnings or training about swaddling. Nor does this lapse in judgment fit a previous pattern of behavior. Regardless of what the courts decide she will carry some degree of guilt for the foreseeable future. The day-care center has been closed voluntarily and given that Maine is a small state where word travels fast it is unlikely that it will ever reopen.

Can we imagine any good coming out of this tragedy? It may be that with luck and diligent therapies that the little girl will be able to lead a life she finds rewarding and gives others some pleasure. It is possible that some individuals involved in her life – her parents or therapists – will find the devotion to her care brings new meaning to their lives.

Will the day-care provider find a new career or a cause that can help her restore some of the self worth she may have lost in the wake of the event? Or, will a protracted course through the legal system take its devastating toll on her life and marriage? It is unlikely that she will spend anywhere near 30 years in prison, if any at all. Will the child’s family sue this small family day-care center? It is hard to imagine they will recover anything more than a tiny fraction of the lifetime costs of this child’s care.

It is also unlikely that the message that swaddling children old enough to turn over carries a significant risk will go beyond one or two more stories in the local Maine newspapers. If this child’s father had been a professional football player or her mother had been an actress or U.S. Senator this tragic turn of events could possibly have stirred enough waters to grab national attention, spawn a foundation, or even result in legislation. But, she appears to come from a family with modest means without claims to notoriety. There is no flawed product to ban. She is a victim of ignorance and our failure to educate. As a result, her tragedy and those of thousands of other children will do little more than accumulate as unfortunate statistics.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

One of the top stories in the local newspaper recently described an unfortunate incident in which a previously healthy 19-month-old baby was found unresponsive and apneic in a crib at her day-care center. She was successfully resuscitated by the daycare provider but is now blind, has seizures, and no longer walks or talks. According to the day care owner, the child had not settled down during rest time and her talking was preventing the other children from sleeping. This apparently had happened before and the day-care provider had successfully resorted to triple wrapping the child in a blanket and placing her in a crib in a separate room. The day-care provider had checked on the child once and noted she was snoring. When the child failed to wake after the expected interval of time she was found face down with her head partially covered by a pillow.

An investigation of the day-care center is ongoing and no reports or prior violations, warnings, or license suspensions have surfaced at this point. The day-care provider has been charged with aggravated assault and endangering the welfare of a child. The charges could carry a prison sentence of 30 years.

As I reread this very sad story I began wondering how this tragedy is going to unfold in the next months and years. We can assume one young life has already been permanently damaged. Her family will have to deal with the consequences of this event for decades or longer. What about the day-care provider? I hope we can assume that she intended no harm to the child nor had she ignored prior warnings or training about swaddling. Nor does this lapse in judgment fit a previous pattern of behavior. Regardless of what the courts decide she will carry some degree of guilt for the foreseeable future. The day-care center has been closed voluntarily and given that Maine is a small state where word travels fast it is unlikely that it will ever reopen.

Can we imagine any good coming out of this tragedy? It may be that with luck and diligent therapies that the little girl will be able to lead a life she finds rewarding and gives others some pleasure. It is possible that some individuals involved in her life – her parents or therapists – will find the devotion to her care brings new meaning to their lives.

Will the day-care provider find a new career or a cause that can help her restore some of the self worth she may have lost in the wake of the event? Or, will a protracted course through the legal system take its devastating toll on her life and marriage? It is unlikely that she will spend anywhere near 30 years in prison, if any at all. Will the child’s family sue this small family day-care center? It is hard to imagine they will recover anything more than a tiny fraction of the lifetime costs of this child’s care.

It is also unlikely that the message that swaddling children old enough to turn over carries a significant risk will go beyond one or two more stories in the local Maine newspapers. If this child’s father had been a professional football player or her mother had been an actress or U.S. Senator this tragic turn of events could possibly have stirred enough waters to grab national attention, spawn a foundation, or even result in legislation. But, she appears to come from a family with modest means without claims to notoriety. There is no flawed product to ban. She is a victim of ignorance and our failure to educate. As a result, her tragedy and those of thousands of other children will do little more than accumulate as unfortunate statistics.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s pretty clear that, at least globally, we have not reached a steady state with the SARS-COV-2 virus. And here in the United States we should remain concerned that if we can’t convince our vaccine-hesitant population to step forward for their shots, this country may slide back into dangerous instability. Despite these uncertainties, it may be time to polish up the old retrospectoscope again and see what the last year and a half has taught us.

Although it took us too long to discover the reality, it is now pretty clear that the virus is spread in the air and by close personal contact, especially indoors. There continues to be some misplaced over-attention to surface cleaning, but for the most part, the bulk of the population seems to have finally gotten the picture. We are of course still plagued by our own impatience and the unfortunate mix of politics and the disagreement about how personal freedom and the common good can coexist.

A year ago, while we were still on the steep part of the learning curve and the specter of the unknown hung over us like a dark cloud, schools and colleges faced a myriad of challenges as they considered how to safely educate their students. Faced with a relative vacuum in leadership from the federal government, school boards and college administrators were left to interpret the trickle of information that filtered down from the media. Many turned for help to hired consultants and a variety of state and local health departments, all of whom were relying on the same information sources that were available to all of us – sources that often were neither peer reviewed nor based on hard facts. In this land that prides itself on free speech, we were all college administrators, local school board members, and parents basing our decision on the same smorgasbord of information that was frequently self-contradictory.

As I look around at the school systems and colleges with which I have some familiarity it has been interesting to observe how their responses to this hodgepodge of opinion and guesstimates have fallen into two basic categories. Some institutions seem to have been primarily motivated by risk avoidance and others appeared to have struggled to maintain their focus on how best to carry out their primary mission of educating their students.

This dichotomy is not surprising. Institutions are composed of people and people naturally self-sort themselves into pessimists and optimists. When a study is published without peer review suggesting that within schools transmission of the virus between children is unusual the optimist may use the scrap of information to support her decision to craft a hybrid system that includes an abundance of in-class experience. The pessimist will probably observe that it was only one study and instead be more concerned about the number of multi-system-inflammatory syndrome cases reported among children in New York City. He will be far less likely to abandon his all-remote learning system.

There is risk inherent in any decision-making process, including incurring a greater risk by failing to make any decision. The person whose primary focus is on avoiding any risk often shuts off the process of creative thinking and problem solving. At the end of the day, the risk avoider may have achieved his goal with a policy that includes aggressive closings but has fallen far short of his primary mission of educating students.

Here in New England there are several examples of small colleges that have managed to create more normal on-campus educational environments. To my knowledge, their experience with case numbers is no worse and may even be better than that of schools of similar size and geographic siting that chose more restrictive policies. You could argue that the less restrictive schools were just lucky. But my hunch is that the institutions that were able to put risk in perspective and remain focused on their mission were able to navigate the uncharted waters more creatively. The bottom line is that we aren’t talking about right or wrong decisions but grouped together they should provide a foundation to build on for the next turmoil.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s pretty clear that, at least globally, we have not reached a steady state with the SARS-COV-2 virus. And here in the United States we should remain concerned that if we can’t convince our vaccine-hesitant population to step forward for their shots, this country may slide back into dangerous instability. Despite these uncertainties, it may be time to polish up the old retrospectoscope again and see what the last year and a half has taught us.

Although it took us too long to discover the reality, it is now pretty clear that the virus is spread in the air and by close personal contact, especially indoors. There continues to be some misplaced over-attention to surface cleaning, but for the most part, the bulk of the population seems to have finally gotten the picture. We are of course still plagued by our own impatience and the unfortunate mix of politics and the disagreement about how personal freedom and the common good can coexist.

A year ago, while we were still on the steep part of the learning curve and the specter of the unknown hung over us like a dark cloud, schools and colleges faced a myriad of challenges as they considered how to safely educate their students. Faced with a relative vacuum in leadership from the federal government, school boards and college administrators were left to interpret the trickle of information that filtered down from the media. Many turned for help to hired consultants and a variety of state and local health departments, all of whom were relying on the same information sources that were available to all of us – sources that often were neither peer reviewed nor based on hard facts. In this land that prides itself on free speech, we were all college administrators, local school board members, and parents basing our decision on the same smorgasbord of information that was frequently self-contradictory.

As I look around at the school systems and colleges with which I have some familiarity it has been interesting to observe how their responses to this hodgepodge of opinion and guesstimates have fallen into two basic categories. Some institutions seem to have been primarily motivated by risk avoidance and others appeared to have struggled to maintain their focus on how best to carry out their primary mission of educating their students.

This dichotomy is not surprising. Institutions are composed of people and people naturally self-sort themselves into pessimists and optimists. When a study is published without peer review suggesting that within schools transmission of the virus between children is unusual the optimist may use the scrap of information to support her decision to craft a hybrid system that includes an abundance of in-class experience. The pessimist will probably observe that it was only one study and instead be more concerned about the number of multi-system-inflammatory syndrome cases reported among children in New York City. He will be far less likely to abandon his all-remote learning system.

There is risk inherent in any decision-making process, including incurring a greater risk by failing to make any decision. The person whose primary focus is on avoiding any risk often shuts off the process of creative thinking and problem solving. At the end of the day, the risk avoider may have achieved his goal with a policy that includes aggressive closings but has fallen far short of his primary mission of educating students.

Here in New England there are several examples of small colleges that have managed to create more normal on-campus educational environments. To my knowledge, their experience with case numbers is no worse and may even be better than that of schools of similar size and geographic siting that chose more restrictive policies. You could argue that the less restrictive schools were just lucky. But my hunch is that the institutions that were able to put risk in perspective and remain focused on their mission were able to navigate the uncharted waters more creatively. The bottom line is that we aren’t talking about right or wrong decisions but grouped together they should provide a foundation to build on for the next turmoil.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s pretty clear that, at least globally, we have not reached a steady state with the SARS-COV-2 virus. And here in the United States we should remain concerned that if we can’t convince our vaccine-hesitant population to step forward for their shots, this country may slide back into dangerous instability. Despite these uncertainties, it may be time to polish up the old retrospectoscope again and see what the last year and a half has taught us.

Although it took us too long to discover the reality, it is now pretty clear that the virus is spread in the air and by close personal contact, especially indoors. There continues to be some misplaced over-attention to surface cleaning, but for the most part, the bulk of the population seems to have finally gotten the picture. We are of course still plagued by our own impatience and the unfortunate mix of politics and the disagreement about how personal freedom and the common good can coexist.

A year ago, while we were still on the steep part of the learning curve and the specter of the unknown hung over us like a dark cloud, schools and colleges faced a myriad of challenges as they considered how to safely educate their students. Faced with a relative vacuum in leadership from the federal government, school boards and college administrators were left to interpret the trickle of information that filtered down from the media. Many turned for help to hired consultants and a variety of state and local health departments, all of whom were relying on the same information sources that were available to all of us – sources that often were neither peer reviewed nor based on hard facts. In this land that prides itself on free speech, we were all college administrators, local school board members, and parents basing our decision on the same smorgasbord of information that was frequently self-contradictory.

As I look around at the school systems and colleges with which I have some familiarity it has been interesting to observe how their responses to this hodgepodge of opinion and guesstimates have fallen into two basic categories. Some institutions seem to have been primarily motivated by risk avoidance and others appeared to have struggled to maintain their focus on how best to carry out their primary mission of educating their students.

This dichotomy is not surprising. Institutions are composed of people and people naturally self-sort themselves into pessimists and optimists. When a study is published without peer review suggesting that within schools transmission of the virus between children is unusual the optimist may use the scrap of information to support her decision to craft a hybrid system that includes an abundance of in-class experience. The pessimist will probably observe that it was only one study and instead be more concerned about the number of multi-system-inflammatory syndrome cases reported among children in New York City. He will be far less likely to abandon his all-remote learning system.

There is risk inherent in any decision-making process, including incurring a greater risk by failing to make any decision. The person whose primary focus is on avoiding any risk often shuts off the process of creative thinking and problem solving. At the end of the day, the risk avoider may have achieved his goal with a policy that includes aggressive closings but has fallen far short of his primary mission of educating students.

Here in New England there are several examples of small colleges that have managed to create more normal on-campus educational environments. To my knowledge, their experience with case numbers is no worse and may even be better than that of schools of similar size and geographic siting that chose more restrictive policies. You could argue that the less restrictive schools were just lucky. But my hunch is that the institutions that were able to put risk in perspective and remain focused on their mission were able to navigate the uncharted waters more creatively. The bottom line is that we aren’t talking about right or wrong decisions but grouped together they should provide a foundation to build on for the next turmoil.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed a wave of general and mental health-related problems, such as stress, addiction, weight gain, depression, and social isolation. Those problems have been exacerbated in patients with mental illness who are already struggling to cope with personal problems.

One might expect those with agoraphobia to be adversely affected by the pandemic and experience increased feelings of anxiety. It appears that people with agoraphobia might especially feel uncertain of other people’s actions during this time. Some might perceive being alone and cut off from help, and those feelings might make them more susceptible to panic attacks.

In my (R.W.C.) clinical experience, however, my patients with agoraphobia are actually functioning better than usual throughout this challenging course.

Personalizing treatment

Agoraphobia is a type of anxiety disorder that often develops after a panic attack and involves an intense fear of a place or situation. In my 40 years of clinical experience, I have treated about 300 patients with agoraphobia, and all of them exhibit the following three symptoms: depression (from losses in life), dependency (dependent on other people to help with activities of daily living), and panic attacks (an abrupt surge of intense fear or intense discomfort that may cause a person to avoid crowded areas or other public spaces outside of the home).

To manage these clients, I individualize treatment and use different strategies for different patients to help them cope with their agoraphobia. I normally treat my agoraphobic patients with a combination of medication and therapy. I most often use a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), and my SSRI drug of choice is usually paroxetine (Paxil). Or, instead of an SSRI, I sometimes prescribe a tricyclic antidepressant, often Tofranil (imipramine). As an adjunct, I might prescribe a benzodiazepine, Xanax (alprazolam), p.r.n. My prescription decision is based on a patient’s side effect profile, medical history, and close blood relatives’ responses to those medications.

The therapy I use is behavior modification with systematic desensitization and flooding. Desensitization is a coping technique that helps the patient overcome triggers associated with the panic attacks and anxiety. In normal times, I use both in vitro (imaginary) and in vivo (real situation) desensitization. However, during the pandemic, I can use only in vitro desensitization, since I am treating patients through phone calls and telemedicine rather than in-person visits.

I also teach my patients with agoraphobia relaxation techniques to work through their fears and anxieties, and thus to reduce feelings of stress and anxiety. The patients can practice these learned techniques on their own in an effort to reduce panic and avoidance behaviors, and create a relaxation response.
 

Treating the key symptoms

As stated earlier, all of my agoraphobic patients exhibit the following three symptoms: depression, dependency, and panic attacks.

• Depression – My agoraphobia patients are less depressed during the pandemic and are not feeling intense losses as they did prepandemic.
• Dependency – During the pandemic, everyone has been interdependent upon other people in their households. Therefore, the patients’ support systems are more readily available, and the patients can help others as much as others help them in their own households or “havens of safety.”
• Panic attacks – As depression has declined, panic attacks have also declined, since they are interrelated.

Understanding why functioning might be better

I attribute the improved functioning I am seeing to five factors:

1. Some people with agoraphobia may find that physical distancing provides relief, because it discourages situations that may trigger fear.

2. Staying in their homes can make people with agoraphobia feel like part of mainstream America, rather than outside the norm. Also, they become egosyntonic, and sense both acceptance and comfort in their homes.

3. Isolating, staying home, and avoidance behavior is now applauded and has become the norm for the entire population. Thus, people with agoraphobia might feel heightened self-esteem.

4. Since many people have been staying in for the most part, people with agoraphobia do not feel they are missing out by staying in. As a result, they are experiencing less depression.

5. Normally, leaving home, traveling, and sitting in the doctor’s office for therapy causes great anxiety for my patients with agoraphobia. Now, I treat my patients through the use of telemedicine or by phone, and thus, patients are more relaxed and calm because they do not have to leave their homes and travel to my office. Thus, patients can avoid this dreaded anxiety trigger.

It might have been logical to assume that patients living with agoraphobia would be negatively affected by the pandemic, and experience increased feelings of anxiety and/or panic attacks – since the pandemic forced those with the illness to face fearful situations from which they cannot escape.

Fortunately, my agoraphobia patients have fared very well. They have remained on their prescribed medications and have adapted well to phone and telemedicine therapy. In fact, the adjustment of my patients with agoraphobia to the stringent mitigation measures surpassed the adjustment of my other patients. These patients with agoraphobia have proved to be a strong and resilient group in the face of extreme stress.
 

Dr. Cohen, who is married to Nancy S. Cohen, is board-certified in psychiatry and has had a private practice in Philadelphia for more than 35 years. His areas of specialty include agoraphobia, sports psychiatry, depression, and substance abuse. In addition, Dr. Cohen is a former professor of psychiatry, family medicine, and otolaryngology at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia. He has no conflicts of interest. Ms. Cohen holds an MBA from Temple University in Philadelphia with a focus on health care administration. Previously, Ms. Cohen was an associate administrator at Hahnemann University Hospital and an executive at the Health Services Council, both in Philadelphia. She currently writes biographical summaries of notable 18th- and 19th-century women. Ms. Cohen has no disclosures.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed a wave of general and mental health-related problems, such as stress, addiction, weight gain, depression, and social isolation. Those problems have been exacerbated in patients with mental illness who are already struggling to cope with personal problems.

One might expect those with agoraphobia to be adversely affected by the pandemic and experience increased feelings of anxiety. It appears that people with agoraphobia might especially feel uncertain of other people’s actions during this time. Some might perceive being alone and cut off from help, and those feelings might make them more susceptible to panic attacks.

In my (R.W.C.) clinical experience, however, my patients with agoraphobia are actually functioning better than usual throughout this challenging course.

Personalizing treatment

Agoraphobia is a type of anxiety disorder that often develops after a panic attack and involves an intense fear of a place or situation. In my 40 years of clinical experience, I have treated about 300 patients with agoraphobia, and all of them exhibit the following three symptoms: depression (from losses in life), dependency (dependent on other people to help with activities of daily living), and panic attacks (an abrupt surge of intense fear or intense discomfort that may cause a person to avoid crowded areas or other public spaces outside of the home).

To manage these clients, I individualize treatment and use different strategies for different patients to help them cope with their agoraphobia. I normally treat my agoraphobic patients with a combination of medication and therapy. I most often use a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), and my SSRI drug of choice is usually paroxetine (Paxil). Or, instead of an SSRI, I sometimes prescribe a tricyclic antidepressant, often Tofranil (imipramine). As an adjunct, I might prescribe a benzodiazepine, Xanax (alprazolam), p.r.n. My prescription decision is based on a patient’s side effect profile, medical history, and close blood relatives’ responses to those medications.

The therapy I use is behavior modification with systematic desensitization and flooding. Desensitization is a coping technique that helps the patient overcome triggers associated with the panic attacks and anxiety. In normal times, I use both in vitro (imaginary) and in vivo (real situation) desensitization. However, during the pandemic, I can use only in vitro desensitization, since I am treating patients through phone calls and telemedicine rather than in-person visits.

I also teach my patients with agoraphobia relaxation techniques to work through their fears and anxieties, and thus to reduce feelings of stress and anxiety. The patients can practice these learned techniques on their own in an effort to reduce panic and avoidance behaviors, and create a relaxation response.
 

Treating the key symptoms

As stated earlier, all of my agoraphobic patients exhibit the following three symptoms: depression, dependency, and panic attacks.

• Depression – My agoraphobia patients are less depressed during the pandemic and are not feeling intense losses as they did prepandemic.
• Dependency – During the pandemic, everyone has been interdependent upon other people in their households. Therefore, the patients’ support systems are more readily available, and the patients can help others as much as others help them in their own households or “havens of safety.”
• Panic attacks – As depression has declined, panic attacks have also declined, since they are interrelated.

Understanding why functioning might be better

I attribute the improved functioning I am seeing to five factors:

1. Some people with agoraphobia may find that physical distancing provides relief, because it discourages situations that may trigger fear.

2. Staying in their homes can make people with agoraphobia feel like part of mainstream America, rather than outside the norm. Also, they become egosyntonic, and sense both acceptance and comfort in their homes.

3. Isolating, staying home, and avoidance behavior is now applauded and has become the norm for the entire population. Thus, people with agoraphobia might feel heightened self-esteem.

4. Since many people have been staying in for the most part, people with agoraphobia do not feel they are missing out by staying in. As a result, they are experiencing less depression.

5. Normally, leaving home, traveling, and sitting in the doctor’s office for therapy causes great anxiety for my patients with agoraphobia. Now, I treat my patients through the use of telemedicine or by phone, and thus, patients are more relaxed and calm because they do not have to leave their homes and travel to my office. Thus, patients can avoid this dreaded anxiety trigger.

It might have been logical to assume that patients living with agoraphobia would be negatively affected by the pandemic, and experience increased feelings of anxiety and/or panic attacks – since the pandemic forced those with the illness to face fearful situations from which they cannot escape.

Fortunately, my agoraphobia patients have fared very well. They have remained on their prescribed medications and have adapted well to phone and telemedicine therapy. In fact, the adjustment of my patients with agoraphobia to the stringent mitigation measures surpassed the adjustment of my other patients. These patients with agoraphobia have proved to be a strong and resilient group in the face of extreme stress.
 

Dr. Cohen, who is married to Nancy S. Cohen, is board-certified in psychiatry and has had a private practice in Philadelphia for more than 35 years. His areas of specialty include agoraphobia, sports psychiatry, depression, and substance abuse. In addition, Dr. Cohen is a former professor of psychiatry, family medicine, and otolaryngology at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia. He has no conflicts of interest. Ms. Cohen holds an MBA from Temple University in Philadelphia with a focus on health care administration. Previously, Ms. Cohen was an associate administrator at Hahnemann University Hospital and an executive at the Health Services Council, both in Philadelphia. She currently writes biographical summaries of notable 18th- and 19th-century women. Ms. Cohen has no disclosures.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed a wave of general and mental health-related problems, such as stress, addiction, weight gain, depression, and social isolation. Those problems have been exacerbated in patients with mental illness who are already struggling to cope with personal problems.

One might expect those with agoraphobia to be adversely affected by the pandemic and experience increased feelings of anxiety. It appears that people with agoraphobia might especially feel uncertain of other people’s actions during this time. Some might perceive being alone and cut off from help, and those feelings might make them more susceptible to panic attacks.

In my (R.W.C.) clinical experience, however, my patients with agoraphobia are actually functioning better than usual throughout this challenging course.

Personalizing treatment

Agoraphobia is a type of anxiety disorder that often develops after a panic attack and involves an intense fear of a place or situation. In my 40 years of clinical experience, I have treated about 300 patients with agoraphobia, and all of them exhibit the following three symptoms: depression (from losses in life), dependency (dependent on other people to help with activities of daily living), and panic attacks (an abrupt surge of intense fear or intense discomfort that may cause a person to avoid crowded areas or other public spaces outside of the home).

To manage these clients, I individualize treatment and use different strategies for different patients to help them cope with their agoraphobia. I normally treat my agoraphobic patients with a combination of medication and therapy. I most often use a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI), and my SSRI drug of choice is usually paroxetine (Paxil). Or, instead of an SSRI, I sometimes prescribe a tricyclic antidepressant, often Tofranil (imipramine). As an adjunct, I might prescribe a benzodiazepine, Xanax (alprazolam), p.r.n. My prescription decision is based on a patient’s side effect profile, medical history, and close blood relatives’ responses to those medications.

The therapy I use is behavior modification with systematic desensitization and flooding. Desensitization is a coping technique that helps the patient overcome triggers associated with the panic attacks and anxiety. In normal times, I use both in vitro (imaginary) and in vivo (real situation) desensitization. However, during the pandemic, I can use only in vitro desensitization, since I am treating patients through phone calls and telemedicine rather than in-person visits.

I also teach my patients with agoraphobia relaxation techniques to work through their fears and anxieties, and thus to reduce feelings of stress and anxiety. The patients can practice these learned techniques on their own in an effort to reduce panic and avoidance behaviors, and create a relaxation response.
 

Treating the key symptoms

As stated earlier, all of my agoraphobic patients exhibit the following three symptoms: depression, dependency, and panic attacks.

• Depression – My agoraphobia patients are less depressed during the pandemic and are not feeling intense losses as they did prepandemic.
• Dependency – During the pandemic, everyone has been interdependent upon other people in their households. Therefore, the patients’ support systems are more readily available, and the patients can help others as much as others help them in their own households or “havens of safety.”
• Panic attacks – As depression has declined, panic attacks have also declined, since they are interrelated.

Understanding why functioning might be better

I attribute the improved functioning I am seeing to five factors:

1. Some people with agoraphobia may find that physical distancing provides relief, because it discourages situations that may trigger fear.

2. Staying in their homes can make people with agoraphobia feel like part of mainstream America, rather than outside the norm. Also, they become egosyntonic, and sense both acceptance and comfort in their homes.

3. Isolating, staying home, and avoidance behavior is now applauded and has become the norm for the entire population. Thus, people with agoraphobia might feel heightened self-esteem.

4. Since many people have been staying in for the most part, people with agoraphobia do not feel they are missing out by staying in. As a result, they are experiencing less depression.

5. Normally, leaving home, traveling, and sitting in the doctor’s office for therapy causes great anxiety for my patients with agoraphobia. Now, I treat my patients through the use of telemedicine or by phone, and thus, patients are more relaxed and calm because they do not have to leave their homes and travel to my office. Thus, patients can avoid this dreaded anxiety trigger.

It might have been logical to assume that patients living with agoraphobia would be negatively affected by the pandemic, and experience increased feelings of anxiety and/or panic attacks – since the pandemic forced those with the illness to face fearful situations from which they cannot escape.

Fortunately, my agoraphobia patients have fared very well. They have remained on their prescribed medications and have adapted well to phone and telemedicine therapy. In fact, the adjustment of my patients with agoraphobia to the stringent mitigation measures surpassed the adjustment of my other patients. These patients with agoraphobia have proved to be a strong and resilient group in the face of extreme stress.
 

Dr. Cohen, who is married to Nancy S. Cohen, is board-certified in psychiatry and has had a private practice in Philadelphia for more than 35 years. His areas of specialty include agoraphobia, sports psychiatry, depression, and substance abuse. In addition, Dr. Cohen is a former professor of psychiatry, family medicine, and otolaryngology at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia. He has no conflicts of interest. Ms. Cohen holds an MBA from Temple University in Philadelphia with a focus on health care administration. Previously, Ms. Cohen was an associate administrator at Hahnemann University Hospital and an executive at the Health Services Council, both in Philadelphia. She currently writes biographical summaries of notable 18th- and 19th-century women. Ms. Cohen has no disclosures.

Before COVID-19 pandemic, suicide rates were already increasing among adolescents.¹ Loneliness, because of social isolation and loss of in-person community contacts, was recognized as one factor perhaps contributing to increasing adolescent suicide.² Now, with the physical distancing measures vital to curbing the spread, the loneliness epidemic that preceded COVID-19 has only worsened, and suicidal thoughts in adolescents remain on the rise.³

Given the crucial role of interpersonal interactions and community in healthy adolescent development, these troubling trends provide insight not only into the psychosocial health of our teenagers but also into the psychosocial health of our society as a whole.

Over the past 8 months, our psychiatric crisis stabilization unit has experienced a surge in admissions for adolescents with suicidal ideation, often with accompanying attempts. Even more concerning, a significant percentage of these patients do not have additional symptoms of depression or premorbid risk factors for suicide. In many cases, there are no warning signs to alert parents of their adolescent’s imminent suicidal behavior.

Prior to COVID-19, most of our patients with suicidal ideations arrived withdrawn, irritable, and isolative. Interactions with these patients evoked poignant feelings of empathy and sadness, and these patients endorsed multiple additional symptoms consistent with criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

More recently, since COVID-19, we have observed patients who, mere hours earlier, were in an ED receiving medical interventions for a suicide attempt, now present on our unit smiling, laughing, and interacting contentedly with their peers. Upon integration into our milieu, they often report complete resolution of their suicidal thoughts. Interactions with these patients do not conjure feelings of sadness or despair. In fact, we often struggle with diagnostic specificity, because many of these patients do not meet criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

As observed in real time on our unit, meaningful interpersonal interactions are especially crucial to our adolescents’ psychosocial and emotional well-being. As their independence grows, their holding environment expands to incorporate the community. Nonparent family members, teachers, mentors, coaches, peers, parents, and most importantly, same-aged peers play a vital role in creating the environment necessary for healthy adolescent development.

The larger community is essential for adolescents to develop the skills and confidence to move into adulthood. When adolescents are lonely, with less contact with the community outside of their family, they lose the milieu in which they develop. Their fundamental psychological need of belonging becomes compromised; they fail to experience fidelity or a sense of self; and sometimes they no longer have the desire to live.

So what might the increasing suicide rate in adolescents indicate about the status of the psychosocial health of our society as a whole? Based on the vital necessity of community to support their development, adolescents are the demographic that is perhaps most susceptible to loneliness, isolation, and loss of community. Like the canary in the coal mines, this increase in suicidal ideations in our adolescent population may be a warning that our current lack of psychosocial supports have become toxic. If we cannot restore our relatedness and reconstruct our sense of community, societal psychosocial health may continue to decline.
 

References

1. National Center for Health Statistics Data Brief. 2019 Oct (352). https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db352-h.pdf

2. J Soc Pers Relationships. 2019 Mar 19. doi: 10.1177/0265407519836170.

3. Medscape.com. 2020 Sep 25. https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/938065.
 

Dr. Loper is the team leader for inpatient psychiatric services at Prisma Health–Midlands in Columbia, S.C. He is an assistant professor in the department of neuropsychiatry and behavioral science at the University of South Carolina, Columbia. He has no conflicts of interest. Dr. Kaminstein is an adjunct assistant professor at the graduate school of education and affiliated faculty in the organizational dynamics program, School of Arts and Sciences, at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. He is a social psychologist who has been studying groups and organizations for more than 40 years. He has no conflicts of interest.


 

Before COVID-19 pandemic, suicide rates were already increasing among adolescents.¹ Loneliness, because of social isolation and loss of in-person community contacts, was recognized as one factor perhaps contributing to increasing adolescent suicide.² Now, with the physical distancing measures vital to curbing the spread, the loneliness epidemic that preceded COVID-19 has only worsened, and suicidal thoughts in adolescents remain on the rise.³

Given the crucial role of interpersonal interactions and community in healthy adolescent development, these troubling trends provide insight not only into the psychosocial health of our teenagers but also into the psychosocial health of our society as a whole.

Over the past 8 months, our psychiatric crisis stabilization unit has experienced a surge in admissions for adolescents with suicidal ideation, often with accompanying attempts. Even more concerning, a significant percentage of these patients do not have additional symptoms of depression or premorbid risk factors for suicide. In many cases, there are no warning signs to alert parents of their adolescent’s imminent suicidal behavior.

Prior to COVID-19, most of our patients with suicidal ideations arrived withdrawn, irritable, and isolative. Interactions with these patients evoked poignant feelings of empathy and sadness, and these patients endorsed multiple additional symptoms consistent with criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

More recently, since COVID-19, we have observed patients who, mere hours earlier, were in an ED receiving medical interventions for a suicide attempt, now present on our unit smiling, laughing, and interacting contentedly with their peers. Upon integration into our milieu, they often report complete resolution of their suicidal thoughts. Interactions with these patients do not conjure feelings of sadness or despair. In fact, we often struggle with diagnostic specificity, because many of these patients do not meet criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

As observed in real time on our unit, meaningful interpersonal interactions are especially crucial to our adolescents’ psychosocial and emotional well-being. As their independence grows, their holding environment expands to incorporate the community. Nonparent family members, teachers, mentors, coaches, peers, parents, and most importantly, same-aged peers play a vital role in creating the environment necessary for healthy adolescent development.

The larger community is essential for adolescents to develop the skills and confidence to move into adulthood. When adolescents are lonely, with less contact with the community outside of their family, they lose the milieu in which they develop. Their fundamental psychological need of belonging becomes compromised; they fail to experience fidelity or a sense of self; and sometimes they no longer have the desire to live.

So what might the increasing suicide rate in adolescents indicate about the status of the psychosocial health of our society as a whole? Based on the vital necessity of community to support their development, adolescents are the demographic that is perhaps most susceptible to loneliness, isolation, and loss of community. Like the canary in the coal mines, this increase in suicidal ideations in our adolescent population may be a warning that our current lack of psychosocial supports have become toxic. If we cannot restore our relatedness and reconstruct our sense of community, societal psychosocial health may continue to decline.
 

References

1. National Center for Health Statistics Data Brief. 2019 Oct (352). https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db352-h.pdf

2. J Soc Pers Relationships. 2019 Mar 19. doi: 10.1177/0265407519836170.

3. Medscape.com. 2020 Sep 25. https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/938065.
 

Dr. Loper is the team leader for inpatient psychiatric services at Prisma Health–Midlands in Columbia, S.C. He is an assistant professor in the department of neuropsychiatry and behavioral science at the University of South Carolina, Columbia. He has no conflicts of interest. Dr. Kaminstein is an adjunct assistant professor at the graduate school of education and affiliated faculty in the organizational dynamics program, School of Arts and Sciences, at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. He is a social psychologist who has been studying groups and organizations for more than 40 years. He has no conflicts of interest.


 

Before COVID-19 pandemic, suicide rates were already increasing among adolescents.¹ Loneliness, because of social isolation and loss of in-person community contacts, was recognized as one factor perhaps contributing to increasing adolescent suicide.² Now, with the physical distancing measures vital to curbing the spread, the loneliness epidemic that preceded COVID-19 has only worsened, and suicidal thoughts in adolescents remain on the rise.³

Given the crucial role of interpersonal interactions and community in healthy adolescent development, these troubling trends provide insight not only into the psychosocial health of our teenagers but also into the psychosocial health of our society as a whole.

Over the past 8 months, our psychiatric crisis stabilization unit has experienced a surge in admissions for adolescents with suicidal ideation, often with accompanying attempts. Even more concerning, a significant percentage of these patients do not have additional symptoms of depression or premorbid risk factors for suicide. In many cases, there are no warning signs to alert parents of their adolescent’s imminent suicidal behavior.

Prior to COVID-19, most of our patients with suicidal ideations arrived withdrawn, irritable, and isolative. Interactions with these patients evoked poignant feelings of empathy and sadness, and these patients endorsed multiple additional symptoms consistent with criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

More recently, since COVID-19, we have observed patients who, mere hours earlier, were in an ED receiving medical interventions for a suicide attempt, now present on our unit smiling, laughing, and interacting contentedly with their peers. Upon integration into our milieu, they often report complete resolution of their suicidal thoughts. Interactions with these patients do not conjure feelings of sadness or despair. In fact, we often struggle with diagnostic specificity, because many of these patients do not meet criteria for a specified depressive disorder.

As observed in real time on our unit, meaningful interpersonal interactions are especially crucial to our adolescents’ psychosocial and emotional well-being. As their independence grows, their holding environment expands to incorporate the community. Nonparent family members, teachers, mentors, coaches, peers, parents, and most importantly, same-aged peers play a vital role in creating the environment necessary for healthy adolescent development.

The larger community is essential for adolescents to develop the skills and confidence to move into adulthood. When adolescents are lonely, with less contact with the community outside of their family, they lose the milieu in which they develop. Their fundamental psychological need of belonging becomes compromised; they fail to experience fidelity or a sense of self; and sometimes they no longer have the desire to live.

So what might the increasing suicide rate in adolescents indicate about the status of the psychosocial health of our society as a whole? Based on the vital necessity of community to support their development, adolescents are the demographic that is perhaps most susceptible to loneliness, isolation, and loss of community. Like the canary in the coal mines, this increase in suicidal ideations in our adolescent population may be a warning that our current lack of psychosocial supports have become toxic. If we cannot restore our relatedness and reconstruct our sense of community, societal psychosocial health may continue to decline.
 

References

1. National Center for Health Statistics Data Brief. 2019 Oct (352). https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db352-h.pdf

2. J Soc Pers Relationships. 2019 Mar 19. doi: 10.1177/0265407519836170.

3. Medscape.com. 2020 Sep 25. https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/938065.
 

Dr. Loper is the team leader for inpatient psychiatric services at Prisma Health–Midlands in Columbia, S.C. He is an assistant professor in the department of neuropsychiatry and behavioral science at the University of South Carolina, Columbia. He has no conflicts of interest. Dr. Kaminstein is an adjunct assistant professor at the graduate school of education and affiliated faculty in the organizational dynamics program, School of Arts and Sciences, at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. He is a social psychologist who has been studying groups and organizations for more than 40 years. He has no conflicts of interest.


 

This May, DDW will again be a virtual meeting. Not only does this pandemic continue, but it has re-emerged with a vengeance in several states. Michigan leads the nation in cases per 100,000, with the UK variant now predominant. Younger adults are being most impacted. There have been almost 250 confirmed COVID-19 cases in fully vaccinated people in Michigan. COVID-19 will be with us for a long time.

Despite the disruption caused by the coronavirus, scientific research and the need for up-to-date education continues. There are numerous educational sessions that will be available for us to view and opportunities for interacting with speakers in many. I hope you will take advantage of a virtual DDW to refresh knowledge and learn about new modalities to care for our patients.

Three cover stories this month should be of interest. A new AGA guideline has been published and it recognizes the advances made in construction and use of intragastric balloons. Current balloons positively add to weigh loss and, when used correctly, are safer and more effective than in the past. Gastroenterologists should enter the bariatric arena in multiple ways from lifestyle counseling to endoscopic therapies. We have much to add to this field. Another cover article concerns infliximab’s influence on development of COVID-19 antibodies. The last discusses how minority status influences liver transplant listing; we continue to uncover the impact of implicit bias in our medical decisions.

I hope you continue to take care of yourself, your families, and those in your communities. We are close to a return to normalcy but are not out of the woods yet. This is a time of reset in our nation, and we all should remember that we are a social network that works only when we look beyond ourselves. I have quoted Tom Friedman before: “Respect science, respect nature, respect each other.”

Have a happy and healthy spring.

John I. Allen, MD, MBA, AGAF
Editor in Chief

This May, DDW will again be a virtual meeting. Not only does this pandemic continue, but it has re-emerged with a vengeance in several states. Michigan leads the nation in cases per 100,000, with the UK variant now predominant. Younger adults are being most impacted. There have been almost 250 confirmed COVID-19 cases in fully vaccinated people in Michigan. COVID-19 will be with us for a long time.

Despite the disruption caused by the coronavirus, scientific research and the need for up-to-date education continues. There are numerous educational sessions that will be available for us to view and opportunities for interacting with speakers in many. I hope you will take advantage of a virtual DDW to refresh knowledge and learn about new modalities to care for our patients.

Three cover stories this month should be of interest. A new AGA guideline has been published and it recognizes the advances made in construction and use of intragastric balloons. Current balloons positively add to weigh loss and, when used correctly, are safer and more effective than in the past. Gastroenterologists should enter the bariatric arena in multiple ways from lifestyle counseling to endoscopic therapies. We have much to add to this field. Another cover article concerns infliximab’s influence on development of COVID-19 antibodies. The last discusses how minority status influences liver transplant listing; we continue to uncover the impact of implicit bias in our medical decisions.

I hope you continue to take care of yourself, your families, and those in your communities. We are close to a return to normalcy but are not out of the woods yet. This is a time of reset in our nation, and we all should remember that we are a social network that works only when we look beyond ourselves. I have quoted Tom Friedman before: “Respect science, respect nature, respect each other.”

Have a happy and healthy spring.

John I. Allen, MD, MBA, AGAF
Editor in Chief

This May, DDW will again be a virtual meeting. Not only does this pandemic continue, but it has re-emerged with a vengeance in several states. Michigan leads the nation in cases per 100,000, with the UK variant now predominant. Younger adults are being most impacted. There have been almost 250 confirmed COVID-19 cases in fully vaccinated people in Michigan. COVID-19 will be with us for a long time.

Despite the disruption caused by the coronavirus, scientific research and the need for up-to-date education continues. There are numerous educational sessions that will be available for us to view and opportunities for interacting with speakers in many. I hope you will take advantage of a virtual DDW to refresh knowledge and learn about new modalities to care for our patients.

Three cover stories this month should be of interest. A new AGA guideline has been published and it recognizes the advances made in construction and use of intragastric balloons. Current balloons positively add to weigh loss and, when used correctly, are safer and more effective than in the past. Gastroenterologists should enter the bariatric arena in multiple ways from lifestyle counseling to endoscopic therapies. We have much to add to this field. Another cover article concerns infliximab’s influence on development of COVID-19 antibodies. The last discusses how minority status influences liver transplant listing; we continue to uncover the impact of implicit bias in our medical decisions.

I hope you continue to take care of yourself, your families, and those in your communities. We are close to a return to normalcy but are not out of the woods yet. This is a time of reset in our nation, and we all should remember that we are a social network that works only when we look beyond ourselves. I have quoted Tom Friedman before: “Respect science, respect nature, respect each other.”

Have a happy and healthy spring.

John I. Allen, MD, MBA, AGAF
Editor in Chief

Sharing their personal experiences on social media can emphasize oncologists’ humanity and have substantive, beneficial effects on patient care, according to a presentation at the Collaboration for Outcomes using Social Media in Oncology (COSMO) inaugural meeting.

Mark A. Lewis, MD, explained to the COSMO meeting audience how storytelling on social media can educate and engage patients, advocates, and professional colleagues – advancing knowledge, dispelling misinformation, and promoting clinical research.

Dr. Lewis, an oncologist at Intermountain Healthcare in Salt Lake City, reflected on the bifid roles of oncologists as scientists engaged in life-long learning and humanists who can internalize and appreciate the unique character and circumstances of their patients.

Patients who have serious illnesses are necessarily aggregated by statistics. However, in an essay published in 2011, Dr. Lewis noted that “each individual patient partakes in a unique, irreproducible experiment where n = 1” (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

Dr. Lewis highlighted the duality of individual data points on a survival curve as descriptors of common disease trajectories and treatment effects. However, those data points also conceal important narratives regarding the most highly valued aspects of the doctor-patient relationship and the impact of cancer treatment on patients’ lives.

In referring to the futuristic essay “Ars Brevis,” Dr. Lewis contrasted the humanism of oncology specialists in the present day with the fictional image of data-regurgitating robots programmed to maximize the efficiency of each patient encounter (J Clin Oncol. 2013 May 10;31[14]:1792-4).

Dr. Lewis reminded attendees that to practice medicine without using both “head and heart” undermines the inherent nature of medical care.

Unfortunately, that perspective may not match the public perception of oncologists. Dr. Lewis described his experience of typing “oncologists are” into an Internet search engine and seeing the auto-complete function prompt words such as “criminals,” “evil,” “murderers,” and “confused.”

Obviously, it is hard to establish a trusting patient-doctor relationship if that is the prima facie perception of the oncology specialty.
 

Dispelling myths and creating community via social media

A primary goal of consultation with a newly-diagnosed cancer patient is for the patient to feel that the oncologist will be there to take care of them, regardless of what the future holds.

Dr. Lewis has found that social media can potentially extend that feeling to a global community of patients, caregivers, and others seeking information relevant to a cancer diagnosis. He believes that oncologists have an opportunity to dispel myths and fears by being attentive to the real-life concerns of patients.

Dr. Lewis took advantage of this opportunity when he underwent a Whipple procedure (pancreaticoduodenectomy) for a pancreatic neuroendocrine tumor. He and the hospital’s media services staff “live-tweeted” his surgery and recovery.

With those tweets, Dr. Lewis demystified each step of a major surgical procedure. From messages he received on social media, Dr. Lewis knows he made the decision to have a Whipple procedure more acceptable to other patients.

His personal medical experience notwithstanding, Dr. Lewis acknowledged that every patient’s circumstances are unique.

Oncologists cannot possibly empathize with every circumstance. However, when they show sensitivity to personal elements of the cancer experience, they shed light on the complicated role they play in patient care and can facilitate good decision-making among patients across the globe.
 

Social media for professional development and patient care

The publication of his 2011 essay was gratifying for Dr. Lewis, but the finite number of comments he received thereafter illustrated the rather limited audience that traditional academic publications have and the laborious process for subsequent interaction (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

First as an observer and later as a participant on social media, Dr. Lewis appreciated that teaching points and publications can be amplified by global distribution and the potential for informal bidirectional communication.

Social media platforms enable physicians to connect with a larger audience through participative communication, in which users develop, share, and react to content (N Engl J Med. 2009 Aug 13;361[7]:649-51).

Dr. Lewis reflected on how oncologists are challenged to sort through the thousands of oncology-focused publications annually. Through social media, one can see the studies on which the experts are commenting and appreciate the nuances that contextualize the results. Focused interactions with renowned doctors, at regular intervals, require little formality.

Online journal clubs enable the sharing of ideas, opinions, multimedia resources, and references across institutional and international borders (J Gen Intern Med. 2014 Oct;29[10]:1317-8).
 

Social media in oncology: Accomplishments and promise

The development of broadband Internet, wireless connectivity, and social media for peer-to-peer and general communication are among the major technological advances that have transformed medical communication.

As an organization, COSMO aims to describe, understand, and improve the use of social media to increase the penetration of evidence-based guidelines and research insights into clinical practice (Future Oncol. 2017 Jun;13[15]:1281-5).

At the inaugural COSMO meeting, areas of progress since COSMO’s inception in 2015 were highlighted, including:

• The involvement of cancer professionals and advocates in multiple distinctive platforms.
• The development of hashtag libraries to aggregate interest groups and topics.
• The refinement of strategies for engaging advocates with attention to inclusiveness.
• A steady trajectory of growth in tweeting at scientific conferences.

An overarching theme of the COSMO meeting was “authenticity,” a virtue that is easy to admire but requires conscious, consistent effort to achieve.

Disclosure of conflicts of interest and avoiding using social media simply as a recruitment tool for clinical trials are basic components of accurate self-representation.

In addition, Dr. Lewis advocated for sharing personal experiences in a component of social media posts so oncologists can show humanity as a feature of their professional online identity and inherent nature.

Dr. Lewis disclosed consultancy with Medscape/WebMD, which are owned by the same parent company as MDedge. He also disclosed relationships with Foundation Medicine, Natera, Exelixis, QED, HalioDX, and Ipsen.


Dr. Lyss was a community-based medical oncologist and clinical researcher for more than 35 years before his recent retirement. His clinical and research interests were focused on breast and lung cancers, as well as expanding clinical trial access to medically underserved populations. He is based in St. Louis. He has no conflicts of interest.

Sharing their personal experiences on social media can emphasize oncologists’ humanity and have substantive, beneficial effects on patient care, according to a presentation at the Collaboration for Outcomes using Social Media in Oncology (COSMO) inaugural meeting.

Mark A. Lewis, MD, explained to the COSMO meeting audience how storytelling on social media can educate and engage patients, advocates, and professional colleagues – advancing knowledge, dispelling misinformation, and promoting clinical research.

Dr. Lewis, an oncologist at Intermountain Healthcare in Salt Lake City, reflected on the bifid roles of oncologists as scientists engaged in life-long learning and humanists who can internalize and appreciate the unique character and circumstances of their patients.

Patients who have serious illnesses are necessarily aggregated by statistics. However, in an essay published in 2011, Dr. Lewis noted that “each individual patient partakes in a unique, irreproducible experiment where n = 1” (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

Dr. Lewis highlighted the duality of individual data points on a survival curve as descriptors of common disease trajectories and treatment effects. However, those data points also conceal important narratives regarding the most highly valued aspects of the doctor-patient relationship and the impact of cancer treatment on patients’ lives.

In referring to the futuristic essay “Ars Brevis,” Dr. Lewis contrasted the humanism of oncology specialists in the present day with the fictional image of data-regurgitating robots programmed to maximize the efficiency of each patient encounter (J Clin Oncol. 2013 May 10;31[14]:1792-4).

Dr. Lewis reminded attendees that to practice medicine without using both “head and heart” undermines the inherent nature of medical care.

Unfortunately, that perspective may not match the public perception of oncologists. Dr. Lewis described his experience of typing “oncologists are” into an Internet search engine and seeing the auto-complete function prompt words such as “criminals,” “evil,” “murderers,” and “confused.”

Obviously, it is hard to establish a trusting patient-doctor relationship if that is the prima facie perception of the oncology specialty.
 

Dispelling myths and creating community via social media

A primary goal of consultation with a newly-diagnosed cancer patient is for the patient to feel that the oncologist will be there to take care of them, regardless of what the future holds.

Dr. Lewis has found that social media can potentially extend that feeling to a global community of patients, caregivers, and others seeking information relevant to a cancer diagnosis. He believes that oncologists have an opportunity to dispel myths and fears by being attentive to the real-life concerns of patients.

Dr. Lewis took advantage of this opportunity when he underwent a Whipple procedure (pancreaticoduodenectomy) for a pancreatic neuroendocrine tumor. He and the hospital’s media services staff “live-tweeted” his surgery and recovery.

With those tweets, Dr. Lewis demystified each step of a major surgical procedure. From messages he received on social media, Dr. Lewis knows he made the decision to have a Whipple procedure more acceptable to other patients.

His personal medical experience notwithstanding, Dr. Lewis acknowledged that every patient’s circumstances are unique.

Oncologists cannot possibly empathize with every circumstance. However, when they show sensitivity to personal elements of the cancer experience, they shed light on the complicated role they play in patient care and can facilitate good decision-making among patients across the globe.
 

Social media for professional development and patient care

The publication of his 2011 essay was gratifying for Dr. Lewis, but the finite number of comments he received thereafter illustrated the rather limited audience that traditional academic publications have and the laborious process for subsequent interaction (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

First as an observer and later as a participant on social media, Dr. Lewis appreciated that teaching points and publications can be amplified by global distribution and the potential for informal bidirectional communication.

Social media platforms enable physicians to connect with a larger audience through participative communication, in which users develop, share, and react to content (N Engl J Med. 2009 Aug 13;361[7]:649-51).

Dr. Lewis reflected on how oncologists are challenged to sort through the thousands of oncology-focused publications annually. Through social media, one can see the studies on which the experts are commenting and appreciate the nuances that contextualize the results. Focused interactions with renowned doctors, at regular intervals, require little formality.

Online journal clubs enable the sharing of ideas, opinions, multimedia resources, and references across institutional and international borders (J Gen Intern Med. 2014 Oct;29[10]:1317-8).
 

Social media in oncology: Accomplishments and promise

The development of broadband Internet, wireless connectivity, and social media for peer-to-peer and general communication are among the major technological advances that have transformed medical communication.

As an organization, COSMO aims to describe, understand, and improve the use of social media to increase the penetration of evidence-based guidelines and research insights into clinical practice (Future Oncol. 2017 Jun;13[15]:1281-5).

At the inaugural COSMO meeting, areas of progress since COSMO’s inception in 2015 were highlighted, including:

• The involvement of cancer professionals and advocates in multiple distinctive platforms.
• The development of hashtag libraries to aggregate interest groups and topics.
• The refinement of strategies for engaging advocates with attention to inclusiveness.
• A steady trajectory of growth in tweeting at scientific conferences.

An overarching theme of the COSMO meeting was “authenticity,” a virtue that is easy to admire but requires conscious, consistent effort to achieve.

Disclosure of conflicts of interest and avoiding using social media simply as a recruitment tool for clinical trials are basic components of accurate self-representation.

In addition, Dr. Lewis advocated for sharing personal experiences in a component of social media posts so oncologists can show humanity as a feature of their professional online identity and inherent nature.

Dr. Lewis disclosed consultancy with Medscape/WebMD, which are owned by the same parent company as MDedge. He also disclosed relationships with Foundation Medicine, Natera, Exelixis, QED, HalioDX, and Ipsen.


Dr. Lyss was a community-based medical oncologist and clinical researcher for more than 35 years before his recent retirement. His clinical and research interests were focused on breast and lung cancers, as well as expanding clinical trial access to medically underserved populations. He is based in St. Louis. He has no conflicts of interest.

Sharing their personal experiences on social media can emphasize oncologists’ humanity and have substantive, beneficial effects on patient care, according to a presentation at the Collaboration for Outcomes using Social Media in Oncology (COSMO) inaugural meeting.

Mark A. Lewis, MD, explained to the COSMO meeting audience how storytelling on social media can educate and engage patients, advocates, and professional colleagues – advancing knowledge, dispelling misinformation, and promoting clinical research.

Dr. Lewis, an oncologist at Intermountain Healthcare in Salt Lake City, reflected on the bifid roles of oncologists as scientists engaged in life-long learning and humanists who can internalize and appreciate the unique character and circumstances of their patients.

Patients who have serious illnesses are necessarily aggregated by statistics. However, in an essay published in 2011, Dr. Lewis noted that “each individual patient partakes in a unique, irreproducible experiment where n = 1” (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

Dr. Lewis highlighted the duality of individual data points on a survival curve as descriptors of common disease trajectories and treatment effects. However, those data points also conceal important narratives regarding the most highly valued aspects of the doctor-patient relationship and the impact of cancer treatment on patients’ lives.

In referring to the futuristic essay “Ars Brevis,” Dr. Lewis contrasted the humanism of oncology specialists in the present day with the fictional image of data-regurgitating robots programmed to maximize the efficiency of each patient encounter (J Clin Oncol. 2013 May 10;31[14]:1792-4).

Dr. Lewis reminded attendees that to practice medicine without using both “head and heart” undermines the inherent nature of medical care.

Unfortunately, that perspective may not match the public perception of oncologists. Dr. Lewis described his experience of typing “oncologists are” into an Internet search engine and seeing the auto-complete function prompt words such as “criminals,” “evil,” “murderers,” and “confused.”

Obviously, it is hard to establish a trusting patient-doctor relationship if that is the prima facie perception of the oncology specialty.
 

Dispelling myths and creating community via social media

A primary goal of consultation with a newly-diagnosed cancer patient is for the patient to feel that the oncologist will be there to take care of them, regardless of what the future holds.

Dr. Lewis has found that social media can potentially extend that feeling to a global community of patients, caregivers, and others seeking information relevant to a cancer diagnosis. He believes that oncologists have an opportunity to dispel myths and fears by being attentive to the real-life concerns of patients.

Dr. Lewis took advantage of this opportunity when he underwent a Whipple procedure (pancreaticoduodenectomy) for a pancreatic neuroendocrine tumor. He and the hospital’s media services staff “live-tweeted” his surgery and recovery.

With those tweets, Dr. Lewis demystified each step of a major surgical procedure. From messages he received on social media, Dr. Lewis knows he made the decision to have a Whipple procedure more acceptable to other patients.

His personal medical experience notwithstanding, Dr. Lewis acknowledged that every patient’s circumstances are unique.

Oncologists cannot possibly empathize with every circumstance. However, when they show sensitivity to personal elements of the cancer experience, they shed light on the complicated role they play in patient care and can facilitate good decision-making among patients across the globe.
 

Social media for professional development and patient care

The publication of his 2011 essay was gratifying for Dr. Lewis, but the finite number of comments he received thereafter illustrated the rather limited audience that traditional academic publications have and the laborious process for subsequent interaction (J Clin Oncol. 2011 Aug 1;29[22]:3103-4).

First as an observer and later as a participant on social media, Dr. Lewis appreciated that teaching points and publications can be amplified by global distribution and the potential for informal bidirectional communication.

Social media platforms enable physicians to connect with a larger audience through participative communication, in which users develop, share, and react to content (N Engl J Med. 2009 Aug 13;361[7]:649-51).

Dr. Lewis reflected on how oncologists are challenged to sort through the thousands of oncology-focused publications annually. Through social media, one can see the studies on which the experts are commenting and appreciate the nuances that contextualize the results. Focused interactions with renowned doctors, at regular intervals, require little formality.

Online journal clubs enable the sharing of ideas, opinions, multimedia resources, and references across institutional and international borders (J Gen Intern Med. 2014 Oct;29[10]:1317-8).
 

Social media in oncology: Accomplishments and promise

The development of broadband Internet, wireless connectivity, and social media for peer-to-peer and general communication are among the major technological advances that have transformed medical communication.

As an organization, COSMO aims to describe, understand, and improve the use of social media to increase the penetration of evidence-based guidelines and research insights into clinical practice (Future Oncol. 2017 Jun;13[15]:1281-5).

At the inaugural COSMO meeting, areas of progress since COSMO’s inception in 2015 were highlighted, including:

• The involvement of cancer professionals and advocates in multiple distinctive platforms.
• The development of hashtag libraries to aggregate interest groups and topics.
• The refinement of strategies for engaging advocates with attention to inclusiveness.
• A steady trajectory of growth in tweeting at scientific conferences.

An overarching theme of the COSMO meeting was “authenticity,” a virtue that is easy to admire but requires conscious, consistent effort to achieve.

Disclosure of conflicts of interest and avoiding using social media simply as a recruitment tool for clinical trials are basic components of accurate self-representation.

In addition, Dr. Lewis advocated for sharing personal experiences in a component of social media posts so oncologists can show humanity as a feature of their professional online identity and inherent nature.

Dr. Lewis disclosed consultancy with Medscape/WebMD, which are owned by the same parent company as MDedge. He also disclosed relationships with Foundation Medicine, Natera, Exelixis, QED, HalioDX, and Ipsen.


Dr. Lyss was a community-based medical oncologist and clinical researcher for more than 35 years before his recent retirement. His clinical and research interests were focused on breast and lung cancers, as well as expanding clinical trial access to medically underserved populations. He is based in St. Louis. He has no conflicts of interest.

Being a physician gives me great privilege. However, this privilege did not start the moment I donned the white coat, but when I was born Asian American, to parents who hold advanced education degrees. It grew when our family moved to a White neighborhood and I was accepted into an elite college. For medical school and residency, I chose an academic program embedded in an urban setting that serves underprivileged minority communities. I entered psychiatry to facilitate healing. Yet as I read the headlines about people of color who had died at the hands of law enforcement, I found myself feeling overwhelmingly hopeless and numb.

In these individuals, I saw people who looked and lived just like the patients I chose to serve. But during this time, I did not see myself as the healer, but part of the system that brought pain and distress. As an Asian American, I identified with Tou Thao—the Asian American police officer involved in George Floyd’s death. In the medical community with which I identified, I found that ever-rising cases of COVID-19 were disproportionately affecting lower-income minority communities. In a polarizing world, I felt my Asian American identity prevented me from experiencing the pain and suffering Black communities faced. This was not my fight, and if it was, I was more immersed in the side that brought trauma to my patients. From a purely rational perspective, I had no right to feel sad. Intellectually, I felt unqualified to share in their pain, yet here I was, crying in my room.

An evolving transformation

As much as I wanted to take a break, training did not stop. A transformation occurred from an emerging awareness of the unique environment within which I was training and the intersection of who I knew myself to be. Serving in an urban program, I was given the opportunity for candid conversations with health professionals of color. I was humbled when Black colleagues proactively reached out to educate me about the historical context of these events and help me process them. I asked hard questions of my fellow residents who were Black, and listened to their answers and personal stories, which was difficult.

With my patients, I began to listen more intently and think about the systemic issues I had previously written off. One patient missed their appointment because public transportation was closed due to COVID-19. Another patient who was homeless was helped immensely by assistance with housing when he could no longer sleep at his place of residence. Really listening to him revealed that his street had become a common route for protests. With my therapy patient who experienced panic attacks listening to the news, I simply sat and grieved with them. I chose these interactions not because I was uniquely qualified, intelligent, or had any ability to change the trajectory of our country, but because they grew from me simply working in the context I chose and seeking the relationships I naturally sought.

How I define myself

As doctors, we accept the burden of caring for society’s ailments with the ultimate hope of celebrating triumph over the adversity of psychiatric illness. However, superseding our profession is the social system in which we live. I am part of a system that has historically caused trauma to some while benefitting others. Thus, between the calling of my practice and the country I practice in, I found a divergence. Once I accepted the truth of this system and the very personal way it affects me, my colleagues, and patients I serve, I was able to internally reconcile and rediscover hope. While I cannot change my experiences, advantages, or privilege, these facts do not change the reality that I am a citizen of the globe and human first. This realization is the silver lining of these perilous times; training among people of color who graciously included me in their experiences, and my willingness to listen and self-reflect. I now choose to define myself by what makes me similar to my patients instead of what isolates me from them. The tangible results of this deliberate step toward authenticity are renewed inspiration and joy.

For those of you who may have found yourself with no “ethnic home team” (or a desire for a new one), I leave you with this simple charge: Let your emotional reactions guide you to truth, and challenge yourself to process them with someone who doesn’t look like you. Leave your title at the door and embrace humility. You might be pleasantly surprised at the human you find when you look in the mirror.

Being a physician gives me great privilege. However, this privilege did not start the moment I donned the white coat, but when I was born Asian American, to parents who hold advanced education degrees. It grew when our family moved to a White neighborhood and I was accepted into an elite college. For medical school and residency, I chose an academic program embedded in an urban setting that serves underprivileged minority communities. I entered psychiatry to facilitate healing. Yet as I read the headlines about people of color who had died at the hands of law enforcement, I found myself feeling overwhelmingly hopeless and numb.

In these individuals, I saw people who looked and lived just like the patients I chose to serve. But during this time, I did not see myself as the healer, but part of the system that brought pain and distress. As an Asian American, I identified with Tou Thao—the Asian American police officer involved in George Floyd’s death. In the medical community with which I identified, I found that ever-rising cases of COVID-19 were disproportionately affecting lower-income minority communities. In a polarizing world, I felt my Asian American identity prevented me from experiencing the pain and suffering Black communities faced. This was not my fight, and if it was, I was more immersed in the side that brought trauma to my patients. From a purely rational perspective, I had no right to feel sad. Intellectually, I felt unqualified to share in their pain, yet here I was, crying in my room.

An evolving transformation

As much as I wanted to take a break, training did not stop. A transformation occurred from an emerging awareness of the unique environment within which I was training and the intersection of who I knew myself to be. Serving in an urban program, I was given the opportunity for candid conversations with health professionals of color. I was humbled when Black colleagues proactively reached out to educate me about the historical context of these events and help me process them. I asked hard questions of my fellow residents who were Black, and listened to their answers and personal stories, which was difficult.

With my patients, I began to listen more intently and think about the systemic issues I had previously written off. One patient missed their appointment because public transportation was closed due to COVID-19. Another patient who was homeless was helped immensely by assistance with housing when he could no longer sleep at his place of residence. Really listening to him revealed that his street had become a common route for protests. With my therapy patient who experienced panic attacks listening to the news, I simply sat and grieved with them. I chose these interactions not because I was uniquely qualified, intelligent, or had any ability to change the trajectory of our country, but because they grew from me simply working in the context I chose and seeking the relationships I naturally sought.

How I define myself

As doctors, we accept the burden of caring for society’s ailments with the ultimate hope of celebrating triumph over the adversity of psychiatric illness. However, superseding our profession is the social system in which we live. I am part of a system that has historically caused trauma to some while benefitting others. Thus, between the calling of my practice and the country I practice in, I found a divergence. Once I accepted the truth of this system and the very personal way it affects me, my colleagues, and patients I serve, I was able to internally reconcile and rediscover hope. While I cannot change my experiences, advantages, or privilege, these facts do not change the reality that I am a citizen of the globe and human first. This realization is the silver lining of these perilous times; training among people of color who graciously included me in their experiences, and my willingness to listen and self-reflect. I now choose to define myself by what makes me similar to my patients instead of what isolates me from them. The tangible results of this deliberate step toward authenticity are renewed inspiration and joy.

For those of you who may have found yourself with no “ethnic home team” (or a desire for a new one), I leave you with this simple charge: Let your emotional reactions guide you to truth, and challenge yourself to process them with someone who doesn’t look like you. Leave your title at the door and embrace humility. You might be pleasantly surprised at the human you find when you look in the mirror.

Being a physician gives me great privilege. However, this privilege did not start the moment I donned the white coat, but when I was born Asian American, to parents who hold advanced education degrees. It grew when our family moved to a White neighborhood and I was accepted into an elite college. For medical school and residency, I chose an academic program embedded in an urban setting that serves underprivileged minority communities. I entered psychiatry to facilitate healing. Yet as I read the headlines about people of color who had died at the hands of law enforcement, I found myself feeling overwhelmingly hopeless and numb.

In these individuals, I saw people who looked and lived just like the patients I chose to serve. But during this time, I did not see myself as the healer, but part of the system that brought pain and distress. As an Asian American, I identified with Tou Thao—the Asian American police officer involved in George Floyd’s death. In the medical community with which I identified, I found that ever-rising cases of COVID-19 were disproportionately affecting lower-income minority communities. In a polarizing world, I felt my Asian American identity prevented me from experiencing the pain and suffering Black communities faced. This was not my fight, and if it was, I was more immersed in the side that brought trauma to my patients. From a purely rational perspective, I had no right to feel sad. Intellectually, I felt unqualified to share in their pain, yet here I was, crying in my room.

An evolving transformation

As much as I wanted to take a break, training did not stop. A transformation occurred from an emerging awareness of the unique environment within which I was training and the intersection of who I knew myself to be. Serving in an urban program, I was given the opportunity for candid conversations with health professionals of color. I was humbled when Black colleagues proactively reached out to educate me about the historical context of these events and help me process them. I asked hard questions of my fellow residents who were Black, and listened to their answers and personal stories, which was difficult.

With my patients, I began to listen more intently and think about the systemic issues I had previously written off. One patient missed their appointment because public transportation was closed due to COVID-19. Another patient who was homeless was helped immensely by assistance with housing when he could no longer sleep at his place of residence. Really listening to him revealed that his street had become a common route for protests. With my therapy patient who experienced panic attacks listening to the news, I simply sat and grieved with them. I chose these interactions not because I was uniquely qualified, intelligent, or had any ability to change the trajectory of our country, but because they grew from me simply working in the context I chose and seeking the relationships I naturally sought.

How I define myself

As doctors, we accept the burden of caring for society’s ailments with the ultimate hope of celebrating triumph over the adversity of psychiatric illness. However, superseding our profession is the social system in which we live. I am part of a system that has historically caused trauma to some while benefitting others. Thus, between the calling of my practice and the country I practice in, I found a divergence. Once I accepted the truth of this system and the very personal way it affects me, my colleagues, and patients I serve, I was able to internally reconcile and rediscover hope. While I cannot change my experiences, advantages, or privilege, these facts do not change the reality that I am a citizen of the globe and human first. This realization is the silver lining of these perilous times; training among people of color who graciously included me in their experiences, and my willingness to listen and self-reflect. I now choose to define myself by what makes me similar to my patients instead of what isolates me from them. The tangible results of this deliberate step toward authenticity are renewed inspiration and joy.

For those of you who may have found yourself with no “ethnic home team” (or a desire for a new one), I leave you with this simple charge: Let your emotional reactions guide you to truth, and challenge yourself to process them with someone who doesn’t look like you. Leave your title at the door and embrace humility. You might be pleasantly surprised at the human you find when you look in the mirror.

The term evidence-based medicine (EBM) has been derided by some as “cookbook medicine.” To others, EBM conjures up the efforts of describing interventions in terms of comparative effectiveness, drowning us in a deluge of “evidence-based” publications. The moniker has also been hijacked by companies to name their Health Economics and Outcomes research divisions. The spirit behind EBM is getting lost. EBM is not just about the evidence; it is about how we use it.¹

In this commentary, we describe the concept of EBM and discuss teaching EBM to medical students and residents, its role in continuing medical education, and how it may be applied to practice, using a case scenario as a guide.

What is evidence-based medicine?

Sackett et al² summed it best in an editorial published in the BMJ in 1996, where he emphasized decision-making in the care of individual patients. When making clinical decisions, using the best evidence available makes sense, but so does integrating individual clinical expertise and considering the individual patient’s preferences. Sackett et al² warns about practice becoming tyrannized by evidence: “even excellent external evidence may be inapplicable to or inappropriate for an individual patient.” Clearly, EBM is not cookbook medicine.

Figure 1³ illustrates EBM as the confluence of clinical judgment, relevant scientific evidence, and patients’ values and preferences. The results from a clinical trial are only one part of the equation. As practitioners, we have the advantage of detailed knowledge about the patient, and our decisions are not “one size fits all.” Prior information about the patient dictates how we apply the evidence that supports potential interventions.

The concept of EBM was born out of necessity to bring scientific principles into the heart of medicine. As outlined by Sackett,⁴ the practice of EBM is a process of lifelong, self-directed learning in which caring for our own patients creates the need for clinically important information about diagnosis, prognosis, therapy, and other clinical and health care issues. Through EBM, we:

• convert these information needs into answerable questions
• track down, with maximum efficiency, the best evidence with which to answer questions (whether from clinical examination, diagnostic laboratory results, research evidence, or other sources)
• critically appraise that evidence for its validity (closeness to the truth) and usefulness (clinical applicability)
• integrate this appraisal with our clinical expertise and apply it in practice
• evaluate our performance.

Over the years, the original aim of EBM as a self-directed method for clinicians to practice high-quality medicine was morphed by some into a tool of enforced standardization and a boilerplate approach to managing costs across systems of care. As a result, the term EBM has been criticized because of:

• its reliance on empiricism
• a narrow definition of evidence
• a lack of evidence of efficacy
• its limited usefulness for individual patients
• threats to the autonomy of the doctor-patient relationship.

These 5 categories are associated with severe drawbacks when used for individual patient care.⁵ In addition to problems with applying standardized population research to a specific patient with a specific set of symptoms, medications, genetic variations, and unique environment, it can take years for clinicians to change their practices to incorporate new information.⁶

Continue to: Evidence that is too narrow...

Evidence that is too narrow in scope may not be useful. Single-molecule pharmaceutical clinical trials have erroneously become a synonym of EBM. Such studies do not reflect complex, real-life situations. Based on such studies, FDA product labeling can be inadequate in its guidance, particularly when faced with complex comorbidities. The standard comparison of active treatment to placebo is also seen as EBM, narrowing its scope and deflecting from clinical medicine when physicians measure one treatment’s success against another vs measuring real treatments against shams. Real-life treatment choice is frequently based on considering adverse effects as important to consider as therapeutic efficacy; however, this concept is outside of the common (mis)understanding of EBM.

Conflicting and ever-changing data and the push to replace clinical thinking with general dogmas trivializes medical practice and endangers treatment outcomes. This would not happen to the extent we see now if EBM was again seen as a guide and general direction rather than a blanket, distorted requirement to follow rigid recommendations for specific patients.

Insurance companies have driven a change in the understanding of EBM by using the FDA label as an excuse to deny, delay, and/or refuse to pay for treatments that are not explicitly and narrowly on-label. Dependence on on-label treatments is even more challenging in specialty medicine because primary care clinicians generally have tried the conventional approaches before referring patients to a specialist. However, insurance denials rarely differentiate between practice settings.

Medicolegal issues have cemented the present situation when clinically valid “off-label” treatments may be a reasonable consideration for patients but can place health care practitioners in jeopardy. The distorted EBM doctrine has become a justification for legal actions against clinicians who practice individualized medicine.

Concision bias (selectively focusing on information, losing nuance) and selection bias (patients in clinical trials who do not reflect real-life patients) have become an impediment to progress and EBM as originally intended.

Continue to: Training medical students and residents

 

 

Training medical students and residents

Although there is some variation in how EBM is taught to medical students and residents,^7,8 the expectation is that such education occurs. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education requirements for a residency program state that “the program must advance residents’ knowledge and practice of the scholarly approach to evidence-based patient care.”⁹ The topic has been part of the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology Model Psychopharmacology Curriculum, but only in an optional lecture.¹⁰ The formal teaching of EBM includes how to find relevant biomedical publications for the clinical issues at hand, understand the different hierarchies of evidence, interpret results in terms of effect size, and apply this knowledge in the care of patients. This 5-step process is illustrated in Figure 2⁸. See Related Resources for 3 books that provide a scholarly yet clinically relevant approach to EBM.

Continuing medical education

Most Current Psychiatry readers have been out of residency for some time and have not necessarily been exposed to the philosophy and tools of EBM. It may be easier to simply jump in and learn about effect sizes and then use information already curated and apply this knowledge. A good starting point is a recap^11,12 of the Clinical Antipsychotic Trials of Intervention Effectiveness (CATIE) for schizophrenia that answers the questions: “How large is the effect being measured?” “Is it clinically important?” and “How are we dealing with a result that may be statistically significant but irrelevant for day-to-day patient care?” Number needed to treat (NNT) and number needed to harm (NNH) can help explain this by allowing one to judge the clinical significance of a statistically significant result.¹³

Practical applications

There are common clinical scenarios where evidence is ignored, or where it is overvalued. For example, the treatment of bipolar depression can be made worse with the use of antidepressants.¹⁴ Does this mean that antidepressants should never be used? What about patient history and preference? What if the approved agents fail to relieve symptoms or are not well tolerated? Available FDA-approved choices may not always be suitable.¹⁵ The Table illustrates some of these scenarios.

The term evidence-based medicine (EBM) has been derided by some as “cookbook medicine.” To others, EBM conjures up the efforts of describing interventions in terms of comparative effectiveness, drowning us in a deluge of “evidence-based” publications. The moniker has also been hijacked by companies to name their Health Economics and Outcomes research divisions. The spirit behind EBM is getting lost. EBM is not just about the evidence; it is about how we use it.¹

In this commentary, we describe the concept of EBM and discuss teaching EBM to medical students and residents, its role in continuing medical education, and how it may be applied to practice, using a case scenario as a guide.

What is evidence-based medicine?

Sackett et al² summed it best in an editorial published in the BMJ in 1996, where he emphasized decision-making in the care of individual patients. When making clinical decisions, using the best evidence available makes sense, but so does integrating individual clinical expertise and considering the individual patient’s preferences. Sackett et al² warns about practice becoming tyrannized by evidence: “even excellent external evidence may be inapplicable to or inappropriate for an individual patient.” Clearly, EBM is not cookbook medicine.

Figure 1³ illustrates EBM as the confluence of clinical judgment, relevant scientific evidence, and patients’ values and preferences. The results from a clinical trial are only one part of the equation. As practitioners, we have the advantage of detailed knowledge about the patient, and our decisions are not “one size fits all.” Prior information about the patient dictates how we apply the evidence that supports potential interventions.

The concept of EBM was born out of necessity to bring scientific principles into the heart of medicine. As outlined by Sackett,⁴ the practice of EBM is a process of lifelong, self-directed learning in which caring for our own patients creates the need for clinically important information about diagnosis, prognosis, therapy, and other clinical and health care issues. Through EBM, we:

• convert these information needs into answerable questions
• track down, with maximum efficiency, the best evidence with which to answer questions (whether from clinical examination, diagnostic laboratory results, research evidence, or other sources)
• critically appraise that evidence for its validity (closeness to the truth) and usefulness (clinical applicability)
• integrate this appraisal with our clinical expertise and apply it in practice
• evaluate our performance.

Over the years, the original aim of EBM as a self-directed method for clinicians to practice high-quality medicine was morphed by some into a tool of enforced standardization and a boilerplate approach to managing costs across systems of care. As a result, the term EBM has been criticized because of:

• its reliance on empiricism
• a narrow definition of evidence
• a lack of evidence of efficacy
• its limited usefulness for individual patients
• threats to the autonomy of the doctor-patient relationship.

These 5 categories are associated with severe drawbacks when used for individual patient care.⁵ In addition to problems with applying standardized population research to a specific patient with a specific set of symptoms, medications, genetic variations, and unique environment, it can take years for clinicians to change their practices to incorporate new information.⁶

Continue to: Evidence that is too narrow...

Evidence that is too narrow in scope may not be useful. Single-molecule pharmaceutical clinical trials have erroneously become a synonym of EBM. Such studies do not reflect complex, real-life situations. Based on such studies, FDA product labeling can be inadequate in its guidance, particularly when faced with complex comorbidities. The standard comparison of active treatment to placebo is also seen as EBM, narrowing its scope and deflecting from clinical medicine when physicians measure one treatment’s success against another vs measuring real treatments against shams. Real-life treatment choice is frequently based on considering adverse effects as important to consider as therapeutic efficacy; however, this concept is outside of the common (mis)understanding of EBM.

Conflicting and ever-changing data and the push to replace clinical thinking with general dogmas trivializes medical practice and endangers treatment outcomes. This would not happen to the extent we see now if EBM was again seen as a guide and general direction rather than a blanket, distorted requirement to follow rigid recommendations for specific patients.

Insurance companies have driven a change in the understanding of EBM by using the FDA label as an excuse to deny, delay, and/or refuse to pay for treatments that are not explicitly and narrowly on-label. Dependence on on-label treatments is even more challenging in specialty medicine because primary care clinicians generally have tried the conventional approaches before referring patients to a specialist. However, insurance denials rarely differentiate between practice settings.

Medicolegal issues have cemented the present situation when clinically valid “off-label” treatments may be a reasonable consideration for patients but can place health care practitioners in jeopardy. The distorted EBM doctrine has become a justification for legal actions against clinicians who practice individualized medicine.

Concision bias (selectively focusing on information, losing nuance) and selection bias (patients in clinical trials who do not reflect real-life patients) have become an impediment to progress and EBM as originally intended.

Continue to: Training medical students and residents

 

 

Training medical students and residents

Although there is some variation in how EBM is taught to medical students and residents,^7,8 the expectation is that such education occurs. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education requirements for a residency program state that “the program must advance residents’ knowledge and practice of the scholarly approach to evidence-based patient care.”⁹ The topic has been part of the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology Model Psychopharmacology Curriculum, but only in an optional lecture.¹⁰ The formal teaching of EBM includes how to find relevant biomedical publications for the clinical issues at hand, understand the different hierarchies of evidence, interpret results in terms of effect size, and apply this knowledge in the care of patients. This 5-step process is illustrated in Figure 2⁸. See Related Resources for 3 books that provide a scholarly yet clinically relevant approach to EBM.

Continuing medical education

Most Current Psychiatry readers have been out of residency for some time and have not necessarily been exposed to the philosophy and tools of EBM. It may be easier to simply jump in and learn about effect sizes and then use information already curated and apply this knowledge. A good starting point is a recap^11,12 of the Clinical Antipsychotic Trials of Intervention Effectiveness (CATIE) for schizophrenia that answers the questions: “How large is the effect being measured?” “Is it clinically important?” and “How are we dealing with a result that may be statistically significant but irrelevant for day-to-day patient care?” Number needed to treat (NNT) and number needed to harm (NNH) can help explain this by allowing one to judge the clinical significance of a statistically significant result.¹³

Practical applications

There are common clinical scenarios where evidence is ignored, or where it is overvalued. For example, the treatment of bipolar depression can be made worse with the use of antidepressants.¹⁴ Does this mean that antidepressants should never be used? What about patient history and preference? What if the approved agents fail to relieve symptoms or are not well tolerated? Available FDA-approved choices may not always be suitable.¹⁵ The Table illustrates some of these scenarios.

The term evidence-based medicine (EBM) has been derided by some as “cookbook medicine.” To others, EBM conjures up the efforts of describing interventions in terms of comparative effectiveness, drowning us in a deluge of “evidence-based” publications. The moniker has also been hijacked by companies to name their Health Economics and Outcomes research divisions. The spirit behind EBM is getting lost. EBM is not just about the evidence; it is about how we use it.¹

In this commentary, we describe the concept of EBM and discuss teaching EBM to medical students and residents, its role in continuing medical education, and how it may be applied to practice, using a case scenario as a guide.

What is evidence-based medicine?

Sackett et al² summed it best in an editorial published in the BMJ in 1996, where he emphasized decision-making in the care of individual patients. When making clinical decisions, using the best evidence available makes sense, but so does integrating individual clinical expertise and considering the individual patient’s preferences. Sackett et al² warns about practice becoming tyrannized by evidence: “even excellent external evidence may be inapplicable to or inappropriate for an individual patient.” Clearly, EBM is not cookbook medicine.

Figure 1³ illustrates EBM as the confluence of clinical judgment, relevant scientific evidence, and patients’ values and preferences. The results from a clinical trial are only one part of the equation. As practitioners, we have the advantage of detailed knowledge about the patient, and our decisions are not “one size fits all.” Prior information about the patient dictates how we apply the evidence that supports potential interventions.

The concept of EBM was born out of necessity to bring scientific principles into the heart of medicine. As outlined by Sackett,⁴ the practice of EBM is a process of lifelong, self-directed learning in which caring for our own patients creates the need for clinically important information about diagnosis, prognosis, therapy, and other clinical and health care issues. Through EBM, we:

• convert these information needs into answerable questions
• track down, with maximum efficiency, the best evidence with which to answer questions (whether from clinical examination, diagnostic laboratory results, research evidence, or other sources)
• critically appraise that evidence for its validity (closeness to the truth) and usefulness (clinical applicability)
• integrate this appraisal with our clinical expertise and apply it in practice
• evaluate our performance.

Over the years, the original aim of EBM as a self-directed method for clinicians to practice high-quality medicine was morphed by some into a tool of enforced standardization and a boilerplate approach to managing costs across systems of care. As a result, the term EBM has been criticized because of:

• its reliance on empiricism
• a narrow definition of evidence
• a lack of evidence of efficacy
• its limited usefulness for individual patients
• threats to the autonomy of the doctor-patient relationship.

These 5 categories are associated with severe drawbacks when used for individual patient care.⁵ In addition to problems with applying standardized population research to a specific patient with a specific set of symptoms, medications, genetic variations, and unique environment, it can take years for clinicians to change their practices to incorporate new information.⁶

Continue to: Evidence that is too narrow...

Evidence that is too narrow in scope may not be useful. Single-molecule pharmaceutical clinical trials have erroneously become a synonym of EBM. Such studies do not reflect complex, real-life situations. Based on such studies, FDA product labeling can be inadequate in its guidance, particularly when faced with complex comorbidities. The standard comparison of active treatment to placebo is also seen as EBM, narrowing its scope and deflecting from clinical medicine when physicians measure one treatment’s success against another vs measuring real treatments against shams. Real-life treatment choice is frequently based on considering adverse effects as important to consider as therapeutic efficacy; however, this concept is outside of the common (mis)understanding of EBM.

Conflicting and ever-changing data and the push to replace clinical thinking with general dogmas trivializes medical practice and endangers treatment outcomes. This would not happen to the extent we see now if EBM was again seen as a guide and general direction rather than a blanket, distorted requirement to follow rigid recommendations for specific patients.

Insurance companies have driven a change in the understanding of EBM by using the FDA label as an excuse to deny, delay, and/or refuse to pay for treatments that are not explicitly and narrowly on-label. Dependence on on-label treatments is even more challenging in specialty medicine because primary care clinicians generally have tried the conventional approaches before referring patients to a specialist. However, insurance denials rarely differentiate between practice settings.

Medicolegal issues have cemented the present situation when clinically valid “off-label” treatments may be a reasonable consideration for patients but can place health care practitioners in jeopardy. The distorted EBM doctrine has become a justification for legal actions against clinicians who practice individualized medicine.

Concision bias (selectively focusing on information, losing nuance) and selection bias (patients in clinical trials who do not reflect real-life patients) have become an impediment to progress and EBM as originally intended.

Continue to: Training medical students and residents

 

 

Training medical students and residents

Although there is some variation in how EBM is taught to medical students and residents,^7,8 the expectation is that such education occurs. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education requirements for a residency program state that “the program must advance residents’ knowledge and practice of the scholarly approach to evidence-based patient care.”⁹ The topic has been part of the American Society of Clinical Psychopharmacology Model Psychopharmacology Curriculum, but only in an optional lecture.¹⁰ The formal teaching of EBM includes how to find relevant biomedical publications for the clinical issues at hand, understand the different hierarchies of evidence, interpret results in terms of effect size, and apply this knowledge in the care of patients. This 5-step process is illustrated in Figure 2⁸. See Related Resources for 3 books that provide a scholarly yet clinically relevant approach to EBM.

Continuing medical education

Most Current Psychiatry readers have been out of residency for some time and have not necessarily been exposed to the philosophy and tools of EBM. It may be easier to simply jump in and learn about effect sizes and then use information already curated and apply this knowledge. A good starting point is a recap^11,12 of the Clinical Antipsychotic Trials of Intervention Effectiveness (CATIE) for schizophrenia that answers the questions: “How large is the effect being measured?” “Is it clinically important?” and “How are we dealing with a result that may be statistically significant but irrelevant for day-to-day patient care?” Number needed to treat (NNT) and number needed to harm (NNH) can help explain this by allowing one to judge the clinical significance of a statistically significant result.¹³

Practical applications

There are common clinical scenarios where evidence is ignored, or where it is overvalued. For example, the treatment of bipolar depression can be made worse with the use of antidepressants.¹⁴ Does this mean that antidepressants should never be used? What about patient history and preference? What if the approved agents fail to relieve symptoms or are not well tolerated? Available FDA-approved choices may not always be suitable.¹⁵ The Table illustrates some of these scenarios.

It breaks my heart every time young patients with functional disability and a history of several psychotic episodes are referred to me. It makes me wonder why they weren’t protected from a lifetime of disability with the use of one of the FDA-approved long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics right after discharge from their initial hospitalization for first-episode psychosis (FEP).

Two decades ago, psychiatric research discovered that psychotic episodes are neurotoxic and neurodegenerative, with grave consequences for the brain if they recur. Although many clinicians are aware of the high rate of nonadherence in patients with schizophrenia—which inevitably leads to a psychotic relapse—the vast majority (>99%, in my estimate) never prescribe an LAI after the FEP to guarantee full adherence and protect the patient’s brain from further atrophy due to relapses. The overall rate of LAI antipsychotic use is astonishingly low (approximately 10%), despite the neurologic malignancy of psychotic episodes. Further, LAIs are most often used after a patient has experienced multiple psychotic episodes, at which point the patient has already lost a significant amount of brain tissue and has already descended into a life of permanent disability.

Oral antipsychotics have the same efficacy as their LAI counterparts, and certainly should be used initially in the hospital during FEP to ascertain the absence of an allergic reaction after initial exposure, and to establish tolerability. Inpatient nurses are experts at making sure a reluctant patient actually swallows the pills and does not cheek them to spit them out later. So patients who have had FEP do improve with oral medications in the hospital, but all bets are off that those patients will regularly ingest tablets every day after discharge. Studies show patients have a high rate of nonadherence within days or weeks after leaving the hospital for FEP.¹ This leads to repetitive psychotic relapses and rehospitalizations, with dire consequences for young patients with schizophrenia—a very serious brain disorder that had been labeled “the worst disease of mankind”² in the era before studies showed LAI second-generation antipsychotics for FEP had remarkable rates of relapse prevention and recovery.^3,4

Psychiatrists should approach FEP the same way oncologists approach cancer when it is diagnosed as Stage 1. Oncologists immediately take action to prevent the recurrence of the patient’s cancer with chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy, and do not wait for the cancer to advance to Stage 4, with widespread metastasis, before administering these potentially life-saving therapies (despite their toxic adverse effects). In schizophrenia, functional disability is the equivalent of Stage 4 cancer and should be aggressively prevented by using LAIs at the time of initial diagnosis, which is Stage 1 schizophrenia. Knowing the grave consequences of psychotic relapses, there is no logical reason whatsoever not to switch patients who have had FEP to an LAI before they are discharged from the hospital. A well-known study by a UCLA research group that compared patients who had FEP and were assigned to oral vs LAI antipsychotics at the time of discharge reported a stunning difference at the end of 1 year: a 650% higher relapse rate among the oral medication group compared with the LAI group!⁵ In light of such a massive difference, wouldn’t psychiatrists want to treat their sons or daughters with an LAI antipsychotic right after FEP? I certainly would, and I have always believed in treating every patient like a family member.

Catastrophic consequences

This lack of early intervention with LAI antipsychotics following FEP is the main reason schizophrenia is associated with poor clinical and functional outcomes. Patients are prescribed pills that they often take erratically or not at all, and end up relapsing repeatedly, with multiple catastrophic consequences, such as:

1. Brain tissue loss. Until recently, psychiatry did not know that psychosis destroys gray and white matter in the brain and causes progressive brain atrophy with every psychotic relapse.^6,7 The neurotoxicity of psychosis is attributed to 2 destructive processes: neuro­inflammation^8,9 and free radicals.¹⁰ Approximately 11 cc of brain tissue is lost during FEP and with every subsequent relapse.⁶ Simple math shows that after 3 to 5 relapses, patients’ brains will shrink by 35 cc to 60 cc. No wonder recurrent psychoses lead to a life of permanent disability. As I have said in a past editorial,¹¹ just as cardiologists do everything they can to prevent a second myocardial infarction (“heart attack”), psychiatrists must do the same to prevent a second psychotic episode (“brain attack”).

2. Treatment resistance. With each psychotic episode, the low antipsychotic dose that worked well in FEP is no longer enough and must be increased. The neurodegenerative effects of psychosis implies that the brain structure changes with each episode. Higher and higher doses become necessary with every psychotic recurrence, and studies show that approximately 1 in 8 patients may stop responding altogether after a psychotic relapse.¹²

Continue to: Disability

3. Disability. Functional disability, both vocational and social, usually begins after the second psychotic episode, which is why it is so important to prevent the second episode.¹³ Patients usually must drop out of high school or college or quit the job they held before FEP. Most patients with multiple psychotic episodes will never be able to work, get married, have children, live independently, or develop a circle of friends. Disability in schizophrenia is essentially a functional death sentence.¹⁴

4. Incarceration and criminalization. So many of our patients with schizophrenia get arrested when they become psychotic and behave erratically due to delusions, hallucinations, or both. They typically are taken to jail instead of a hospital because almost all the state hospitals around the country have been closed. It is outrageous that a medical condition of the brain leads to criminalization of patients with schizophrenia.¹⁵ The only solution for this ongoing crisis of incarceration of our patients with schizophrenia is to prevent them from relapsing into psychosis. The so-called deinstitutionalization movement has mutated into trans-institutionalization, moving patients who are medically ill from state hospitals to more restrictive state prisons. Patients with schizophrenia should be surrounded by a mental health team, not by armed prison guards. The rate of recidivism among these individuals is extremely high because patients who are released often stop taking their medications and get re-arrested when their behavior deteriorates.

5. Suicide. The rate of suicide in the first year after FEP is astronomical. A recent study reported an unimaginably high suicide rate: 17,000% higher than that of the general population.¹⁶ Many patients with FEP commit suicide after they stop taking their antipsychotic medication, and often no antipsychotic medication is detected in their postmortem blood samples.

6. Homelessness. A disproportionate number of patients with schizophrenia become homeless.¹⁷ It started in the 1980s, when the shuttering of state hospitals began and patients with chronic illnesses were released into the community to fend for themselves. Many perished. Others became homeless, living on the streets of urban areas.

7. Early mortality. Schizophrenia has repeatedly been shown to be associated with early mortality, with a loss of approximately 25 potential years of life.¹⁷ This is attributed to lifestyle risk factors (eg, sedentary living, poor diet) and multiple medical comorbidities (eg, obesity, diabetes, hypertension). To make things worse, patients with schizophrenia do not receive basic medical care to protect them from cardiovascular morbidity, an appalling disparity of care.¹⁸ Interestingly, a recent 7-year follow-up study of patients with schizophrenia found that the lowest rate of mortality from all causes was among patients receiving a second-generation LAI.¹⁹ Relapse prevention with LAIs can reduce mortality! According to that study, the worst mortality rate was observed in patients with schizophrenia who were not receiving any antipsychotic medication.

Continue to: Posttraumatic stress disorder

8. Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Many studies report that psychosis triggers PTSD symptoms²⁰ because delusions and hallucinations can represent a life-threatening experience. The symptoms of PTSD get embedded within the positive and negative symptoms of schizophrenia, and every psychotic relapse serves as a “booster shot” for PTSD, leading to depression, anxiety, personality changes, aggressive behavior, and suicide.

9. Hopelessness, depression, and demoralization. The stigma of a severe psychiatric brain disorder such as schizophrenia, with multiple episodes, disability, incarceration, and homelessness, extends to the patients themselves, who become hopeless and demoralized by a chronic illness that marginalizes them into desperately ill individuals.²¹ The more psychotic episodes, the more intense the demoralization, hopelessness, and depression.

10. Family burden. The repercussions of psychotic relapses after FEP leads to significant financial and emotional stress on patients’ families.²² The heavy burden of caregiving among family members can be highly distressing, leading to depression and medical illness due to compromised immune functions.

Preventing relapse: It is not rocket science

It is obvious that the single most important therapeutic action for patients with schizophrenia is to prevent psychotic relapses. Even partial nonadherence must be prevented, because a drop of 25% in a patient’s serum antipsychotic level has been reported to lead to a psychotic relapse.²³ Preventing relapse after FEP is not rocket science: Switch the patient to an LAI before discharge from the hospital,²⁴ and provide the clinically necessary psychosocial treatments at every monthly follow-up visit (supportive psychotherapy, social skill training, vocational rehabilitation, and cognitive remediation). I have witnessed firsthand how stable and functional a patient who has had FEP can become when started on a second-generation LAI very soon after the onset of the illness.

I will finish with a simple question to my clinician readers: given the many devastating consequences of psychotic relapses, what would you do for your young patient with FEP? I hope you will treat them like a family member, and protect them from brain atrophy, disability, incarceration, homelessness, and suicide by starting them on an LAI antipsychotic before they leave the hospital. We must do no less for this highly vulnerable, young patient population.

It breaks my heart every time young patients with functional disability and a history of several psychotic episodes are referred to me. It makes me wonder why they weren’t protected from a lifetime of disability with the use of one of the FDA-approved long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics right after discharge from their initial hospitalization for first-episode psychosis (FEP).

Two decades ago, psychiatric research discovered that psychotic episodes are neurotoxic and neurodegenerative, with grave consequences for the brain if they recur. Although many clinicians are aware of the high rate of nonadherence in patients with schizophrenia—which inevitably leads to a psychotic relapse—the vast majority (>99%, in my estimate) never prescribe an LAI after the FEP to guarantee full adherence and protect the patient’s brain from further atrophy due to relapses. The overall rate of LAI antipsychotic use is astonishingly low (approximately 10%), despite the neurologic malignancy of psychotic episodes. Further, LAIs are most often used after a patient has experienced multiple psychotic episodes, at which point the patient has already lost a significant amount of brain tissue and has already descended into a life of permanent disability.

Oral antipsychotics have the same efficacy as their LAI counterparts, and certainly should be used initially in the hospital during FEP to ascertain the absence of an allergic reaction after initial exposure, and to establish tolerability. Inpatient nurses are experts at making sure a reluctant patient actually swallows the pills and does not cheek them to spit them out later. So patients who have had FEP do improve with oral medications in the hospital, but all bets are off that those patients will regularly ingest tablets every day after discharge. Studies show patients have a high rate of nonadherence within days or weeks after leaving the hospital for FEP.¹ This leads to repetitive psychotic relapses and rehospitalizations, with dire consequences for young patients with schizophrenia—a very serious brain disorder that had been labeled “the worst disease of mankind”² in the era before studies showed LAI second-generation antipsychotics for FEP had remarkable rates of relapse prevention and recovery.^3,4

Psychiatrists should approach FEP the same way oncologists approach cancer when it is diagnosed as Stage 1. Oncologists immediately take action to prevent the recurrence of the patient’s cancer with chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy, and do not wait for the cancer to advance to Stage 4, with widespread metastasis, before administering these potentially life-saving therapies (despite their toxic adverse effects). In schizophrenia, functional disability is the equivalent of Stage 4 cancer and should be aggressively prevented by using LAIs at the time of initial diagnosis, which is Stage 1 schizophrenia. Knowing the grave consequences of psychotic relapses, there is no logical reason whatsoever not to switch patients who have had FEP to an LAI before they are discharged from the hospital. A well-known study by a UCLA research group that compared patients who had FEP and were assigned to oral vs LAI antipsychotics at the time of discharge reported a stunning difference at the end of 1 year: a 650% higher relapse rate among the oral medication group compared with the LAI group!⁵ In light of such a massive difference, wouldn’t psychiatrists want to treat their sons or daughters with an LAI antipsychotic right after FEP? I certainly would, and I have always believed in treating every patient like a family member.

Catastrophic consequences

This lack of early intervention with LAI antipsychotics following FEP is the main reason schizophrenia is associated with poor clinical and functional outcomes. Patients are prescribed pills that they often take erratically or not at all, and end up relapsing repeatedly, with multiple catastrophic consequences, such as:

1. Brain tissue loss. Until recently, psychiatry did not know that psychosis destroys gray and white matter in the brain and causes progressive brain atrophy with every psychotic relapse.^6,7 The neurotoxicity of psychosis is attributed to 2 destructive processes: neuro­inflammation^8,9 and free radicals.¹⁰ Approximately 11 cc of brain tissue is lost during FEP and with every subsequent relapse.⁶ Simple math shows that after 3 to 5 relapses, patients’ brains will shrink by 35 cc to 60 cc. No wonder recurrent psychoses lead to a life of permanent disability. As I have said in a past editorial,¹¹ just as cardiologists do everything they can to prevent a second myocardial infarction (“heart attack”), psychiatrists must do the same to prevent a second psychotic episode (“brain attack”).

2. Treatment resistance. With each psychotic episode, the low antipsychotic dose that worked well in FEP is no longer enough and must be increased. The neurodegenerative effects of psychosis implies that the brain structure changes with each episode. Higher and higher doses become necessary with every psychotic recurrence, and studies show that approximately 1 in 8 patients may stop responding altogether after a psychotic relapse.¹²

Continue to: Disability

3. Disability. Functional disability, both vocational and social, usually begins after the second psychotic episode, which is why it is so important to prevent the second episode.¹³ Patients usually must drop out of high school or college or quit the job they held before FEP. Most patients with multiple psychotic episodes will never be able to work, get married, have children, live independently, or develop a circle of friends. Disability in schizophrenia is essentially a functional death sentence.¹⁴

4. Incarceration and criminalization. So many of our patients with schizophrenia get arrested when they become psychotic and behave erratically due to delusions, hallucinations, or both. They typically are taken to jail instead of a hospital because almost all the state hospitals around the country have been closed. It is outrageous that a medical condition of the brain leads to criminalization of patients with schizophrenia.¹⁵ The only solution for this ongoing crisis of incarceration of our patients with schizophrenia is to prevent them from relapsing into psychosis. The so-called deinstitutionalization movement has mutated into trans-institutionalization, moving patients who are medically ill from state hospitals to more restrictive state prisons. Patients with schizophrenia should be surrounded by a mental health team, not by armed prison guards. The rate of recidivism among these individuals is extremely high because patients who are released often stop taking their medications and get re-arrested when their behavior deteriorates.

5. Suicide. The rate of suicide in the first year after FEP is astronomical. A recent study reported an unimaginably high suicide rate: 17,000% higher than that of the general population.¹⁶ Many patients with FEP commit suicide after they stop taking their antipsychotic medication, and often no antipsychotic medication is detected in their postmortem blood samples.

6. Homelessness. A disproportionate number of patients with schizophrenia become homeless.¹⁷ It started in the 1980s, when the shuttering of state hospitals began and patients with chronic illnesses were released into the community to fend for themselves. Many perished. Others became homeless, living on the streets of urban areas.

7. Early mortality. Schizophrenia has repeatedly been shown to be associated with early mortality, with a loss of approximately 25 potential years of life.¹⁷ This is attributed to lifestyle risk factors (eg, sedentary living, poor diet) and multiple medical comorbidities (eg, obesity, diabetes, hypertension). To make things worse, patients with schizophrenia do not receive basic medical care to protect them from cardiovascular morbidity, an appalling disparity of care.¹⁸ Interestingly, a recent 7-year follow-up study of patients with schizophrenia found that the lowest rate of mortality from all causes was among patients receiving a second-generation LAI.¹⁹ Relapse prevention with LAIs can reduce mortality! According to that study, the worst mortality rate was observed in patients with schizophrenia who were not receiving any antipsychotic medication.

Continue to: Posttraumatic stress disorder

8. Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Many studies report that psychosis triggers PTSD symptoms²⁰ because delusions and hallucinations can represent a life-threatening experience. The symptoms of PTSD get embedded within the positive and negative symptoms of schizophrenia, and every psychotic relapse serves as a “booster shot” for PTSD, leading to depression, anxiety, personality changes, aggressive behavior, and suicide.

9. Hopelessness, depression, and demoralization. The stigma of a severe psychiatric brain disorder such as schizophrenia, with multiple episodes, disability, incarceration, and homelessness, extends to the patients themselves, who become hopeless and demoralized by a chronic illness that marginalizes them into desperately ill individuals.²¹ The more psychotic episodes, the more intense the demoralization, hopelessness, and depression.

10. Family burden. The repercussions of psychotic relapses after FEP leads to significant financial and emotional stress on patients’ families.²² The heavy burden of caregiving among family members can be highly distressing, leading to depression and medical illness due to compromised immune functions.

Preventing relapse: It is not rocket science

It is obvious that the single most important therapeutic action for patients with schizophrenia is to prevent psychotic relapses. Even partial nonadherence must be prevented, because a drop of 25% in a patient’s serum antipsychotic level has been reported to lead to a psychotic relapse.²³ Preventing relapse after FEP is not rocket science: Switch the patient to an LAI before discharge from the hospital,²⁴ and provide the clinically necessary psychosocial treatments at every monthly follow-up visit (supportive psychotherapy, social skill training, vocational rehabilitation, and cognitive remediation). I have witnessed firsthand how stable and functional a patient who has had FEP can become when started on a second-generation LAI very soon after the onset of the illness.

I will finish with a simple question to my clinician readers: given the many devastating consequences of psychotic relapses, what would you do for your young patient with FEP? I hope you will treat them like a family member, and protect them from brain atrophy, disability, incarceration, homelessness, and suicide by starting them on an LAI antipsychotic before they leave the hospital. We must do no less for this highly vulnerable, young patient population.

It breaks my heart every time young patients with functional disability and a history of several psychotic episodes are referred to me. It makes me wonder why they weren’t protected from a lifetime of disability with the use of one of the FDA-approved long-acting injectable (LAI) antipsychotics right after discharge from their initial hospitalization for first-episode psychosis (FEP).

Two decades ago, psychiatric research discovered that psychotic episodes are neurotoxic and neurodegenerative, with grave consequences for the brain if they recur. Although many clinicians are aware of the high rate of nonadherence in patients with schizophrenia—which inevitably leads to a psychotic relapse—the vast majority (>99%, in my estimate) never prescribe an LAI after the FEP to guarantee full adherence and protect the patient’s brain from further atrophy due to relapses. The overall rate of LAI antipsychotic use is astonishingly low (approximately 10%), despite the neurologic malignancy of psychotic episodes. Further, LAIs are most often used after a patient has experienced multiple psychotic episodes, at which point the patient has already lost a significant amount of brain tissue and has already descended into a life of permanent disability.

Oral antipsychotics have the same efficacy as their LAI counterparts, and certainly should be used initially in the hospital during FEP to ascertain the absence of an allergic reaction after initial exposure, and to establish tolerability. Inpatient nurses are experts at making sure a reluctant patient actually swallows the pills and does not cheek them to spit them out later. So patients who have had FEP do improve with oral medications in the hospital, but all bets are off that those patients will regularly ingest tablets every day after discharge. Studies show patients have a high rate of nonadherence within days or weeks after leaving the hospital for FEP.¹ This leads to repetitive psychotic relapses and rehospitalizations, with dire consequences for young patients with schizophrenia—a very serious brain disorder that had been labeled “the worst disease of mankind”² in the era before studies showed LAI second-generation antipsychotics for FEP had remarkable rates of relapse prevention and recovery.^3,4

Psychiatrists should approach FEP the same way oncologists approach cancer when it is diagnosed as Stage 1. Oncologists immediately take action to prevent the recurrence of the patient’s cancer with chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy, and do not wait for the cancer to advance to Stage 4, with widespread metastasis, before administering these potentially life-saving therapies (despite their toxic adverse effects). In schizophrenia, functional disability is the equivalent of Stage 4 cancer and should be aggressively prevented by using LAIs at the time of initial diagnosis, which is Stage 1 schizophrenia. Knowing the grave consequences of psychotic relapses, there is no logical reason whatsoever not to switch patients who have had FEP to an LAI before they are discharged from the hospital. A well-known study by a UCLA research group that compared patients who had FEP and were assigned to oral vs LAI antipsychotics at the time of discharge reported a stunning difference at the end of 1 year: a 650% higher relapse rate among the oral medication group compared with the LAI group!⁵ In light of such a massive difference, wouldn’t psychiatrists want to treat their sons or daughters with an LAI antipsychotic right after FEP? I certainly would, and I have always believed in treating every patient like a family member.

Catastrophic consequences

This lack of early intervention with LAI antipsychotics following FEP is the main reason schizophrenia is associated with poor clinical and functional outcomes. Patients are prescribed pills that they often take erratically or not at all, and end up relapsing repeatedly, with multiple catastrophic consequences, such as:

1. Brain tissue loss. Until recently, psychiatry did not know that psychosis destroys gray and white matter in the brain and causes progressive brain atrophy with every psychotic relapse.^6,7 The neurotoxicity of psychosis is attributed to 2 destructive processes: neuro­inflammation^8,9 and free radicals.¹⁰ Approximately 11 cc of brain tissue is lost during FEP and with every subsequent relapse.⁶ Simple math shows that after 3 to 5 relapses, patients’ brains will shrink by 35 cc to 60 cc. No wonder recurrent psychoses lead to a life of permanent disability. As I have said in a past editorial,¹¹ just as cardiologists do everything they can to prevent a second myocardial infarction (“heart attack”), psychiatrists must do the same to prevent a second psychotic episode (“brain attack”).

2. Treatment resistance. With each psychotic episode, the low antipsychotic dose that worked well in FEP is no longer enough and must be increased. The neurodegenerative effects of psychosis implies that the brain structure changes with each episode. Higher and higher doses become necessary with every psychotic recurrence, and studies show that approximately 1 in 8 patients may stop responding altogether after a psychotic relapse.¹²

Continue to: Disability

3. Disability. Functional disability, both vocational and social, usually begins after the second psychotic episode, which is why it is so important to prevent the second episode.¹³ Patients usually must drop out of high school or college or quit the job they held before FEP. Most patients with multiple psychotic episodes will never be able to work, get married, have children, live independently, or develop a circle of friends. Disability in schizophrenia is essentially a functional death sentence.¹⁴

4. Incarceration and criminalization. So many of our patients with schizophrenia get arrested when they become psychotic and behave erratically due to delusions, hallucinations, or both. They typically are taken to jail instead of a hospital because almost all the state hospitals around the country have been closed. It is outrageous that a medical condition of the brain leads to criminalization of patients with schizophrenia.¹⁵ The only solution for this ongoing crisis of incarceration of our patients with schizophrenia is to prevent them from relapsing into psychosis. The so-called deinstitutionalization movement has mutated into trans-institutionalization, moving patients who are medically ill from state hospitals to more restrictive state prisons. Patients with schizophrenia should be surrounded by a mental health team, not by armed prison guards. The rate of recidivism among these individuals is extremely high because patients who are released often stop taking their medications and get re-arrested when their behavior deteriorates.

5. Suicide. The rate of suicide in the first year after FEP is astronomical. A recent study reported an unimaginably high suicide rate: 17,000% higher than that of the general population.¹⁶ Many patients with FEP commit suicide after they stop taking their antipsychotic medication, and often no antipsychotic medication is detected in their postmortem blood samples.

6. Homelessness. A disproportionate number of patients with schizophrenia become homeless.¹⁷ It started in the 1980s, when the shuttering of state hospitals began and patients with chronic illnesses were released into the community to fend for themselves. Many perished. Others became homeless, living on the streets of urban areas.

7. Early mortality. Schizophrenia has repeatedly been shown to be associated with early mortality, with a loss of approximately 25 potential years of life.¹⁷ This is attributed to lifestyle risk factors (eg, sedentary living, poor diet) and multiple medical comorbidities (eg, obesity, diabetes, hypertension). To make things worse, patients with schizophrenia do not receive basic medical care to protect them from cardiovascular morbidity, an appalling disparity of care.¹⁸ Interestingly, a recent 7-year follow-up study of patients with schizophrenia found that the lowest rate of mortality from all causes was among patients receiving a second-generation LAI.¹⁹ Relapse prevention with LAIs can reduce mortality! According to that study, the worst mortality rate was observed in patients with schizophrenia who were not receiving any antipsychotic medication.

Continue to: Posttraumatic stress disorder

8. Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Many studies report that psychosis triggers PTSD symptoms²⁰ because delusions and hallucinations can represent a life-threatening experience. The symptoms of PTSD get embedded within the positive and negative symptoms of schizophrenia, and every psychotic relapse serves as a “booster shot” for PTSD, leading to depression, anxiety, personality changes, aggressive behavior, and suicide.

9. Hopelessness, depression, and demoralization. The stigma of a severe psychiatric brain disorder such as schizophrenia, with multiple episodes, disability, incarceration, and homelessness, extends to the patients themselves, who become hopeless and demoralized by a chronic illness that marginalizes them into desperately ill individuals.²¹ The more psychotic episodes, the more intense the demoralization, hopelessness, and depression.

10. Family burden. The repercussions of psychotic relapses after FEP leads to significant financial and emotional stress on patients’ families.²² The heavy burden of caregiving among family members can be highly distressing, leading to depression and medical illness due to compromised immune functions.

Preventing relapse: It is not rocket science

It is obvious that the single most important therapeutic action for patients with schizophrenia is to prevent psychotic relapses. Even partial nonadherence must be prevented, because a drop of 25% in a patient’s serum antipsychotic level has been reported to lead to a psychotic relapse.²³ Preventing relapse after FEP is not rocket science: Switch the patient to an LAI before discharge from the hospital,²⁴ and provide the clinically necessary psychosocial treatments at every monthly follow-up visit (supportive psychotherapy, social skill training, vocational rehabilitation, and cognitive remediation). I have witnessed firsthand how stable and functional a patient who has had FEP can become when started on a second-generation LAI very soon after the onset of the illness.

I will finish with a simple question to my clinician readers: given the many devastating consequences of psychotic relapses, what would you do for your young patient with FEP? I hope you will treat them like a family member, and protect them from brain atrophy, disability, incarceration, homelessness, and suicide by starting them on an LAI antipsychotic before they leave the hospital. We must do no less for this highly vulnerable, young patient population.

I wanted to thank Dr. Nasrallah for his most important editorial, “Let’s ‘cancel’ these obsolete terms in DSM” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry, January 2021, p. 4,9-10). Over my 40 years of clinical practice, I never cease to cringe or be pained when “clinical” diagnoses offered are nothing but thinly veiled expressions of contempt for our troubled patients. True clinical compassion honors the horizontal axis in caring for other individuals, honoring our mutually shared imperfection and humanity. The offensive “diagnoses” as delineated by Dr. Nasrallah strengthen a distorted vertical axis, speaking to a moral superiority and contempt as clinicians. If I might humbly add to this list, most personally offensive to me is oppositional defiant disorder. I see nothing of clinical or treatment value to this term, and it strikes me more as a horrible pejorative used to label a child suffering from a brain-based behavioral disorder requiring compassionate treatment. Perhaps other readers would like to add their “top hits” to this ignominious list. Many thanks, Dr. Nasrallah!

Robert Barris, MD
Nassau University Medical Center
East Meadow, New York

How sad! This is my reaction to reading Dr. Nasrallah’s January 2021 editorial. Although biological psychiatry is synonymous with brain neurotransmitters and psychopharmacology, absent from this perspective is the visible biology of the human organism, specifically Sigmund Freud’s discovery of the psychosexual development of the infant and child and Wilhelm Reich’s discovery of characterological and muscular armor. Medicine, a natural science, is founded and grounded in observation. Psychiatry, having ignored and eliminated (“canceled”) recognition of these readily observable phenomena essential to understanding psychiatric disorders, including neurosis and schizophrenia, allows Dr. Nasrallah to suggest we “cancel” what should be at the heart of psychiatric diagnosis and treatment. Sadly, this heart has been lost for decades.

Howard Chavis, MD
New York, New York

Dr. Nasrallah responds

Psychiatry, like all medical and scientific disciplines, must go through an ongoing renewal, including the update of its terminology, with or without a change in its concepts or principles. Anxiety is a more accurate description of clinical symptoms than neurosis, and psychosis spectrum is more accurate than schizophrenia. Besides the accuracy issue, “neurotic” and “schizophrenic” have unfortunately devolved into pejorative and stigmatizing terms. The lexicon of psychiatry has gone through seismic changes over the past several decades, as I described in a previous editorial.¹ Psychiatry is a vibrant, constantly evolving biopsychosocial/clinical neuroscience, not a static descriptive discipline.

Reference

1. Nasrallah HA. From bedlam to biomarkers: the transformation of psychiatry’s terminology reflects its 4 conceptual earthquakes. Current Psychiatry. 2015;14(1):5-7.

I found myself having difficulty with Dr. Nasrallah’s editorial about canceling “obsolete” terms. I agree that making a diagnosis of borderline or narcissistic personality disorder can be pejorative if the clinician is using it to manage their own unprocessed counter­transference. While all behavior is brain-mediated, human behavior is influenced by psychological events great and small. I am concerned that you seem to be reducing personality trait disturbances to biological abnormality, pure and simple. Losing psychological understanding of patients while overexplaining behavior as pathological brain dysfunction risks losing why patients see us in the first place.

Michael Friedman, DO
Cherry Hill, New Jersey

Dr. Nasrallah responds

The renaming I suggest goes beyond countertransference. It has to do with scientific validity of the diagnostic construct. And yes, personality traits are heavily genetic, but with some modulation by environmental factors. I suggest reading the seminal works of Thomas J. Bouchard Jr., PhD, and Kenneth S. Kendler, MD, on identical twins reared together or apart for more details about the genetics of personality traits.

Disclosures

The authors report no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in their letters, or with manufacturers of competing products.

I wanted to thank Dr. Nasrallah for his most important editorial, “Let’s ‘cancel’ these obsolete terms in DSM” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry, January 2021, p. 4,9-10). Over my 40 years of clinical practice, I never cease to cringe or be pained when “clinical” diagnoses offered are nothing but thinly veiled expressions of contempt for our troubled patients. True clinical compassion honors the horizontal axis in caring for other individuals, honoring our mutually shared imperfection and humanity. The offensive “diagnoses” as delineated by Dr. Nasrallah strengthen a distorted vertical axis, speaking to a moral superiority and contempt as clinicians. If I might humbly add to this list, most personally offensive to me is oppositional defiant disorder. I see nothing of clinical or treatment value to this term, and it strikes me more as a horrible pejorative used to label a child suffering from a brain-based behavioral disorder requiring compassionate treatment. Perhaps other readers would like to add their “top hits” to this ignominious list. Many thanks, Dr. Nasrallah!

Robert Barris, MD
Nassau University Medical Center
East Meadow, New York

How sad! This is my reaction to reading Dr. Nasrallah’s January 2021 editorial. Although biological psychiatry is synonymous with brain neurotransmitters and psychopharmacology, absent from this perspective is the visible biology of the human organism, specifically Sigmund Freud’s discovery of the psychosexual development of the infant and child and Wilhelm Reich’s discovery of characterological and muscular armor. Medicine, a natural science, is founded and grounded in observation. Psychiatry, having ignored and eliminated (“canceled”) recognition of these readily observable phenomena essential to understanding psychiatric disorders, including neurosis and schizophrenia, allows Dr. Nasrallah to suggest we “cancel” what should be at the heart of psychiatric diagnosis and treatment. Sadly, this heart has been lost for decades.

Howard Chavis, MD
New York, New York

Dr. Nasrallah responds

Psychiatry, like all medical and scientific disciplines, must go through an ongoing renewal, including the update of its terminology, with or without a change in its concepts or principles. Anxiety is a more accurate description of clinical symptoms than neurosis, and psychosis spectrum is more accurate than schizophrenia. Besides the accuracy issue, “neurotic” and “schizophrenic” have unfortunately devolved into pejorative and stigmatizing terms. The lexicon of psychiatry has gone through seismic changes over the past several decades, as I described in a previous editorial.¹ Psychiatry is a vibrant, constantly evolving biopsychosocial/clinical neuroscience, not a static descriptive discipline.

Reference

1. Nasrallah HA. From bedlam to biomarkers: the transformation of psychiatry’s terminology reflects its 4 conceptual earthquakes. Current Psychiatry. 2015;14(1):5-7.

I found myself having difficulty with Dr. Nasrallah’s editorial about canceling “obsolete” terms. I agree that making a diagnosis of borderline or narcissistic personality disorder can be pejorative if the clinician is using it to manage their own unprocessed counter­transference. While all behavior is brain-mediated, human behavior is influenced by psychological events great and small. I am concerned that you seem to be reducing personality trait disturbances to biological abnormality, pure and simple. Losing psychological understanding of patients while overexplaining behavior as pathological brain dysfunction risks losing why patients see us in the first place.

Michael Friedman, DO
Cherry Hill, New Jersey

Dr. Nasrallah responds

The renaming I suggest goes beyond countertransference. It has to do with scientific validity of the diagnostic construct. And yes, personality traits are heavily genetic, but with some modulation by environmental factors. I suggest reading the seminal works of Thomas J. Bouchard Jr., PhD, and Kenneth S. Kendler, MD, on identical twins reared together or apart for more details about the genetics of personality traits.

Disclosures

The authors report no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in their letters, or with manufacturers of competing products.

I wanted to thank Dr. Nasrallah for his most important editorial, “Let’s ‘cancel’ these obsolete terms in DSM” (From the Editor, Current Psychiatry, January 2021, p. 4,9-10). Over my 40 years of clinical practice, I never cease to cringe or be pained when “clinical” diagnoses offered are nothing but thinly veiled expressions of contempt for our troubled patients. True clinical compassion honors the horizontal axis in caring for other individuals, honoring our mutually shared imperfection and humanity. The offensive “diagnoses” as delineated by Dr. Nasrallah strengthen a distorted vertical axis, speaking to a moral superiority and contempt as clinicians. If I might humbly add to this list, most personally offensive to me is oppositional defiant disorder. I see nothing of clinical or treatment value to this term, and it strikes me more as a horrible pejorative used to label a child suffering from a brain-based behavioral disorder requiring compassionate treatment. Perhaps other readers would like to add their “top hits” to this ignominious list. Many thanks, Dr. Nasrallah!

Robert Barris, MD
Nassau University Medical Center
East Meadow, New York

How sad! This is my reaction to reading Dr. Nasrallah’s January 2021 editorial. Although biological psychiatry is synonymous with brain neurotransmitters and psychopharmacology, absent from this perspective is the visible biology of the human organism, specifically Sigmund Freud’s discovery of the psychosexual development of the infant and child and Wilhelm Reich’s discovery of characterological and muscular armor. Medicine, a natural science, is founded and grounded in observation. Psychiatry, having ignored and eliminated (“canceled”) recognition of these readily observable phenomena essential to understanding psychiatric disorders, including neurosis and schizophrenia, allows Dr. Nasrallah to suggest we “cancel” what should be at the heart of psychiatric diagnosis and treatment. Sadly, this heart has been lost for decades.

Howard Chavis, MD
New York, New York

Dr. Nasrallah responds

Psychiatry, like all medical and scientific disciplines, must go through an ongoing renewal, including the update of its terminology, with or without a change in its concepts or principles. Anxiety is a more accurate description of clinical symptoms than neurosis, and psychosis spectrum is more accurate than schizophrenia. Besides the accuracy issue, “neurotic” and “schizophrenic” have unfortunately devolved into pejorative and stigmatizing terms. The lexicon of psychiatry has gone through seismic changes over the past several decades, as I described in a previous editorial.¹ Psychiatry is a vibrant, constantly evolving biopsychosocial/clinical neuroscience, not a static descriptive discipline.

Reference

1. Nasrallah HA. From bedlam to biomarkers: the transformation of psychiatry’s terminology reflects its 4 conceptual earthquakes. Current Psychiatry. 2015;14(1):5-7.

I found myself having difficulty with Dr. Nasrallah’s editorial about canceling “obsolete” terms. I agree that making a diagnosis of borderline or narcissistic personality disorder can be pejorative if the clinician is using it to manage their own unprocessed counter­transference. While all behavior is brain-mediated, human behavior is influenced by psychological events great and small. I am concerned that you seem to be reducing personality trait disturbances to biological abnormality, pure and simple. Losing psychological understanding of patients while overexplaining behavior as pathological brain dysfunction risks losing why patients see us in the first place.

Michael Friedman, DO
Cherry Hill, New Jersey

Dr. Nasrallah responds

The renaming I suggest goes beyond countertransference. It has to do with scientific validity of the diagnostic construct. And yes, personality traits are heavily genetic, but with some modulation by environmental factors. I suggest reading the seminal works of Thomas J. Bouchard Jr., PhD, and Kenneth S. Kendler, MD, on identical twins reared together or apart for more details about the genetics of personality traits.

Disclosures

The authors report no financial relationships with any companies whose products are mentioned in their letters, or with manufacturers of competing products.