Feature

Health authorities in Malawi have declared an outbreak of wild poliovirus type 1 after a case was confirmed in a 3-year-old girl in the capital, Lilongwe. It was the first case in Africa in 5 years, according to the World Health Organization.

Globally, there were only five cases of wild poliovirus in 2021, the WHO states.

“As long as wild polio exists anywhere in the world all countries remain at risk of importation of the virus,” Matshidiso Moeti, MBBS, WHO regional director for Africa, said in the statement.
 

Girl paralyzed in November

The Global Polio Eradication Initiative (GPEI) said in a statement that the 3-year-old girl  experienced paralysis in November, and stool specimens were collected. Sequencing of the virus was conducted in February, 2022, by the National Institute for Communicable Diseases in South Africa, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention confirmed the case as WPV1.

According to the WHO announcement, laboratory analysis shows that the strain identified in Malawi is linked to one circulating in Sindh Province in Pakistan. Polio remains endemic only in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Kacey C. Ernst, PhD, MPH, professor and infectious disease epidemiologist at the University of Arizona’s Zuckerman College of Public Health in Tucson, pointed out that what is not clear from the press release is whether the girl had traveled to Pakistan or was infected in Malawi.

“This is a very significant detail that would indicate whether or not transmission was actively occurring in Malawi. Until that information is released, it is hard to judge the extent of the possible outbreak,” she said in an interview. “The good news is that this case was in fact detected. The surveillance systems are in place and they were able to identify wild-type cases.”

Dr. Ernst said that although there is cause for concern, it is “not a reason to panic. Malawi has very high polio vaccination rates and it is quite possible that this will be a very small defined outbreak that will be well contained.”

She added that the medical community should be alerted that this case has been identified so travelers who have been to affected areas who have any symptoms can be appropriately screened.

The WHO said it is helping Malawi health authorities in the response, including increasing immunizations.

However, a vaccination campaign comes at a time of health system upheaval in Malawi.

“Malawi, like countries all over the world, has seen an interruption in services due to COVID,” Joia S. Mukherjee, MD, MPH, chief medical officer with Partners in Health and associate professor with the division of global health equity at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and in the department of global health and social medicine at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview. “In addition, Malawi is currently dealing with the aftermath of a cyclone – where nearly a million people were displaced. Vaccination campaigns work best if there is solid infrastructure. Both COVID and the impact of climate change have shaken the health system.”

UN health agencies warned last year that millions of children who have not received immunizations during the pandemic, especially in Africa, “are now at risk from life-threatening diseases such as measles, polio, yellow fever, and diphtheria,” Reuters reported.

Africa was certified as wild poliovirus free on Aug. 25, 2020. The CDC had served as the lead partner over 3 decades in helping Africa reach the milestone. Africa will retain that status, the WHO stated, because the strain originated in Pakistan.

Five of six WHO regions have been certified polio free. The Americas received eradication certification in 1994.

There is no cure for polio, which can cause irreversible paralysis within hours, but the disease has been largely eradicated globally with an effective vaccine.
 

GPEI sending teams

The GPEI is sending a team to Malawi to support emergency operations, communications, and surveillance. Partner organizations will also send teams to support operations and innovative vaccination campaign solutions.

GPEI was launched in 1988 with the combined efforts of national governments, WHO, Rotary International, the CDC, and UNICEF. The GPEI partnership has included the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and, in recent years, Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance.

The CDC states, “[G]lobal incidence of polio has decreased by 99.9% since GPEI’s foundation. An estimated 16 million people today are walking who would otherwise have been paralyzed by the disease, and more than 1.5 million people are alive, whose lives would otherwise have been lost. Now the task remains to tackle polio in its last few strongholds and get rid of the final 0.1% of polio cases.”
 

Three wild poliovirus strains

There are three wild poliovirus strains: type 1 (WPV1), type 2 (WPV2), and type 3 (WPV3).

“Symptomatically, all three strains are identical, in that they cause irreversible paralysis or even death. But there are genetic and virologic differences which make these three strains three separate viruses that must each be eradicated individually,” according to WHO.

WPV3 is the second strain to be wiped out, following the certification of the eradication of WPV2 in 2015.

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

Health authorities in Malawi have declared an outbreak of wild poliovirus type 1 after a case was confirmed in a 3-year-old girl in the capital, Lilongwe. It was the first case in Africa in 5 years, according to the World Health Organization.

Globally, there were only five cases of wild poliovirus in 2021, the WHO states.

“As long as wild polio exists anywhere in the world all countries remain at risk of importation of the virus,” Matshidiso Moeti, MBBS, WHO regional director for Africa, said in the statement.
 

Girl paralyzed in November

The Global Polio Eradication Initiative (GPEI) said in a statement that the 3-year-old girl  experienced paralysis in November, and stool specimens were collected. Sequencing of the virus was conducted in February, 2022, by the National Institute for Communicable Diseases in South Africa, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention confirmed the case as WPV1.

According to the WHO announcement, laboratory analysis shows that the strain identified in Malawi is linked to one circulating in Sindh Province in Pakistan. Polio remains endemic only in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Kacey C. Ernst, PhD, MPH, professor and infectious disease epidemiologist at the University of Arizona’s Zuckerman College of Public Health in Tucson, pointed out that what is not clear from the press release is whether the girl had traveled to Pakistan or was infected in Malawi.

“This is a very significant detail that would indicate whether or not transmission was actively occurring in Malawi. Until that information is released, it is hard to judge the extent of the possible outbreak,” she said in an interview. “The good news is that this case was in fact detected. The surveillance systems are in place and they were able to identify wild-type cases.”

Dr. Ernst said that although there is cause for concern, it is “not a reason to panic. Malawi has very high polio vaccination rates and it is quite possible that this will be a very small defined outbreak that will be well contained.”

She added that the medical community should be alerted that this case has been identified so travelers who have been to affected areas who have any symptoms can be appropriately screened.

The WHO said it is helping Malawi health authorities in the response, including increasing immunizations.

However, a vaccination campaign comes at a time of health system upheaval in Malawi.

“Malawi, like countries all over the world, has seen an interruption in services due to COVID,” Joia S. Mukherjee, MD, MPH, chief medical officer with Partners in Health and associate professor with the division of global health equity at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and in the department of global health and social medicine at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview. “In addition, Malawi is currently dealing with the aftermath of a cyclone – where nearly a million people were displaced. Vaccination campaigns work best if there is solid infrastructure. Both COVID and the impact of climate change have shaken the health system.”

UN health agencies warned last year that millions of children who have not received immunizations during the pandemic, especially in Africa, “are now at risk from life-threatening diseases such as measles, polio, yellow fever, and diphtheria,” Reuters reported.

Africa was certified as wild poliovirus free on Aug. 25, 2020. The CDC had served as the lead partner over 3 decades in helping Africa reach the milestone. Africa will retain that status, the WHO stated, because the strain originated in Pakistan.

Five of six WHO regions have been certified polio free. The Americas received eradication certification in 1994.

There is no cure for polio, which can cause irreversible paralysis within hours, but the disease has been largely eradicated globally with an effective vaccine.
 

GPEI sending teams

The GPEI is sending a team to Malawi to support emergency operations, communications, and surveillance. Partner organizations will also send teams to support operations and innovative vaccination campaign solutions.

GPEI was launched in 1988 with the combined efforts of national governments, WHO, Rotary International, the CDC, and UNICEF. The GPEI partnership has included the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and, in recent years, Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance.

The CDC states, “[G]lobal incidence of polio has decreased by 99.9% since GPEI’s foundation. An estimated 16 million people today are walking who would otherwise have been paralyzed by the disease, and more than 1.5 million people are alive, whose lives would otherwise have been lost. Now the task remains to tackle polio in its last few strongholds and get rid of the final 0.1% of polio cases.”
 

Three wild poliovirus strains

There are three wild poliovirus strains: type 1 (WPV1), type 2 (WPV2), and type 3 (WPV3).

“Symptomatically, all three strains are identical, in that they cause irreversible paralysis or even death. But there are genetic and virologic differences which make these three strains three separate viruses that must each be eradicated individually,” according to WHO.

WPV3 is the second strain to be wiped out, following the certification of the eradication of WPV2 in 2015.

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

Health authorities in Malawi have declared an outbreak of wild poliovirus type 1 after a case was confirmed in a 3-year-old girl in the capital, Lilongwe. It was the first case in Africa in 5 years, according to the World Health Organization.

Globally, there were only five cases of wild poliovirus in 2021, the WHO states.

“As long as wild polio exists anywhere in the world all countries remain at risk of importation of the virus,” Matshidiso Moeti, MBBS, WHO regional director for Africa, said in the statement.
 

Girl paralyzed in November

The Global Polio Eradication Initiative (GPEI) said in a statement that the 3-year-old girl  experienced paralysis in November, and stool specimens were collected. Sequencing of the virus was conducted in February, 2022, by the National Institute for Communicable Diseases in South Africa, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention confirmed the case as WPV1.

According to the WHO announcement, laboratory analysis shows that the strain identified in Malawi is linked to one circulating in Sindh Province in Pakistan. Polio remains endemic only in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Kacey C. Ernst, PhD, MPH, professor and infectious disease epidemiologist at the University of Arizona’s Zuckerman College of Public Health in Tucson, pointed out that what is not clear from the press release is whether the girl had traveled to Pakistan or was infected in Malawi.

“This is a very significant detail that would indicate whether or not transmission was actively occurring in Malawi. Until that information is released, it is hard to judge the extent of the possible outbreak,” she said in an interview. “The good news is that this case was in fact detected. The surveillance systems are in place and they were able to identify wild-type cases.”

Dr. Ernst said that although there is cause for concern, it is “not a reason to panic. Malawi has very high polio vaccination rates and it is quite possible that this will be a very small defined outbreak that will be well contained.”

She added that the medical community should be alerted that this case has been identified so travelers who have been to affected areas who have any symptoms can be appropriately screened.

The WHO said it is helping Malawi health authorities in the response, including increasing immunizations.

However, a vaccination campaign comes at a time of health system upheaval in Malawi.

“Malawi, like countries all over the world, has seen an interruption in services due to COVID,” Joia S. Mukherjee, MD, MPH, chief medical officer with Partners in Health and associate professor with the division of global health equity at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and in the department of global health and social medicine at Harvard Medical School, Boston, said in an interview. “In addition, Malawi is currently dealing with the aftermath of a cyclone – where nearly a million people were displaced. Vaccination campaigns work best if there is solid infrastructure. Both COVID and the impact of climate change have shaken the health system.”

UN health agencies warned last year that millions of children who have not received immunizations during the pandemic, especially in Africa, “are now at risk from life-threatening diseases such as measles, polio, yellow fever, and diphtheria,” Reuters reported.

Africa was certified as wild poliovirus free on Aug. 25, 2020. The CDC had served as the lead partner over 3 decades in helping Africa reach the milestone. Africa will retain that status, the WHO stated, because the strain originated in Pakistan.

Five of six WHO regions have been certified polio free. The Americas received eradication certification in 1994.

There is no cure for polio, which can cause irreversible paralysis within hours, but the disease has been largely eradicated globally with an effective vaccine.
 

GPEI sending teams

The GPEI is sending a team to Malawi to support emergency operations, communications, and surveillance. Partner organizations will also send teams to support operations and innovative vaccination campaign solutions.

GPEI was launched in 1988 with the combined efforts of national governments, WHO, Rotary International, the CDC, and UNICEF. The GPEI partnership has included the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and, in recent years, Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance.

The CDC states, “[G]lobal incidence of polio has decreased by 99.9% since GPEI’s foundation. An estimated 16 million people today are walking who would otherwise have been paralyzed by the disease, and more than 1.5 million people are alive, whose lives would otherwise have been lost. Now the task remains to tackle polio in its last few strongholds and get rid of the final 0.1% of polio cases.”
 

Three wild poliovirus strains

There are three wild poliovirus strains: type 1 (WPV1), type 2 (WPV2), and type 3 (WPV3).

“Symptomatically, all three strains are identical, in that they cause irreversible paralysis or even death. But there are genetic and virologic differences which make these three strains three separate viruses that must each be eradicated individually,” according to WHO.

WPV3 is the second strain to be wiped out, following the certification of the eradication of WPV2 in 2015.

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

Peter Schwartz, MD, was chair of the department of obstetrics and gynecology at a hospital in Reading, Pa., in the mid-1990s when a young physician sought him out. The doctor, whom Dr. Schwartz regarded as talented and empathetic, was visibly shaken. The expectant mother they were caring for had just lost her unborn child.

“The doctor came into my office within an hour of the event and asked me to look at the case,” Dr. Schwartz recalled. “I could see that they had failed to recognize ominous changes in the fetal heart rate, and I faced the pain of having to tell them, ‘I think this could have been handled much better.’” Dr. Schwartz delivered the news as compassionately as he could, but a subsequent review confirmed his suspicion: The doctor had made a serious error.

“The doctor was devastated,” he said. “She got counseling and took time off, but in the end, she quit practicing medicine. She said, ‘If I keep practicing, something like that could happen again, and I don’t think I could handle it.’”

To err may be human, but in a health care setting, the harm can be catastrophic. While patients and their families are the ones who suffer most, doctors can be so traumatized by their medical mistakes that their feelings of guilt, shame, and self-doubt can lead to depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and even suicidal ideation. The trauma can be so profound that, in a now famous 2000 editorial in the British Medical Journal, Albert Wu, MD, gave the phenomenon a name: “second victim syndrome.”

Today, as quality improvement organizations and health systems work to address medical errors in a just and transparent way, they’re realizing that finding ways to help traumatized clinicians is integral to their efforts.
 

Are doctors really ‘second victims?’

Although the medical field is moving away from the term “second victim,” which patient advocates argue lacks a ring of accountability, the emotional trauma doctors and other clinicians endure is garnering increased attention. In the 2 decades since Dr. Wu wrote his editorial, research has shown that many types of adverse health care events can evoke traumatic responses. In fact, studies indicate that from 10.4% to 43.3% of health care workers may experience negative symptoms following an adverse event.

But for doctors – who have sworn an oath to do no harm – the emotional toll of having committed a serious medical error can be particularly burdensome and lingering. In a Dutch study involving more than 4,300 doctors and nurses, respondents who were involved in a patient safety incident that resulted in harm were nine times more likely to have negative symptoms lasting longer than 6 months than those who were involved in a near-miss experience.

“There’s a feeling of wanting to erase yourself,” says Danielle Ofri, MD, a New York internist and author of “When We Do Harm: A Doctor Confronts Medical Error.”

That emotional response can have a profound impact on the way medical errors are disclosed, investigated, and ultimately resolved, said Thomas Gallagher, MD, an internist and executive director of the Collaborative for Accountability and Improvement, a patient safety program at the University of Washington.

“When something goes wrong, as physicians, we don’t know what to do,” Dr. Gallagher says. “We feel awful, and often our human reflexes lead us astray. The doctor’s own emotions become barriers to addressing the situation.” For example, guilt and shame may lead doctors to try to hide or diminish their mistakes. Some doctors might try to shift blame, while others may feel so guilty they assume they were responsible for an outcome that was beyond their control.

Recognizing that clinicians’ responses to medical errors are inextricably tangled with how those events are addressed, a growing number of health systems are making clinician support a key element when dealing with medical errors.
 

Emotional first aid

Although it’s typical for physicians to feel isolated in the wake of errors, these experiences are far from unique. Research conducted by University of Missouri Health Care nurse scientist Susan Scott, RN, PhD, shows that just as most individuals experiencing grief pass through several distinct emotional stages, health care professionals who make errors go through emotional stages that may occur sequentially or concurrently.

An initial period of chaos is often followed by intrusive reflections, haunting re-enactments, and feelings of inadequacy. The doctor’s thinking moves from “How did that happen?” to “What did I miss?” to “What will people think about me?” As the error comes under scrutiny by quality improvement organizations, licensing boards, and/or lawyers, the doctor feels besieged. The doctor may want to reach out but is afraid to. According to Dr. Scott, only 15% of care providers ask for help.

Recognizing that physicians and other care providers rarely ask for support – or may not realize they need it – a growing number of health systems are implementing Communication and Resolution Programs (CRPs). Rather than respond to medical errors with a deny-and-defend mentality, CRPs emphasize transparency and accountability.

This approach, which the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality has embraced and codified with its Communication and Optimal Resolution (CANDOR) toolkit, focuses on prompt incident reporting; communication with and support for patients, family members, and caregivers affected by the event; event analysis; quality improvement; and just resolution of the event, including apologies and financial compensation where appropriate.

The CANDOR toolkit, which includes a module entitled Care for the Caregiver, directs health systems to identify individuals and establish teams, led by representatives from patient safety and/or risk management, who can respond promptly to an event. After ensuring the patient is clinically stable and safe, the CANDOR process provides for immediate and ongoing emotional support to the patient, the family, and the caregiver.

“A lot of what CRPs are about is creating structures and processes that normalize an open and compassionate response to harm events in medicine,” says Dr. Gallagher, who estimates that between 400 and 500 health systems now have CRPs in place.
 

Wisdom through adversity

While clinicians experience many difficult and negative emotions in the wake of medical errors, how they move forward after the event varies markedly. Some, unable to come to terms with the trauma, may move to another institution or leave medicine entirely. Others, while occasionally reliving the trauma, learn to cope. For the most fortunate, enduring the trauma of a medical error can lead to growth, insight, and wisdom.

In an article published in the journal Academic Medicine, researchers asked 61 physicians who had made serious medical errors, “What helped you to cope positively?” Some of the most common responses – talking about their feelings with a peer, disclosing and apologizing for a mistake, and developing system changes to prevent additional errors – are baked into some health systems’ CRP programs. Other respondents said they dedicated themselves to learning from the mistake, becoming experts in a given field, or sharing what they learned from the experience through teaching.

Dr. Ofri said that after she made an error decades ago while managing a patient with diabetic ketoacidosis, her senior resident publicly berated her for it. The incident taught her a clinical lesson: Never remove an insulin drip without administering long-acting insulin. More importantly, the resident’s verbal thumping taught her about the corrosive effects of shame. Today, Dr. Ofri, who works in a teaching hospital, says that when meeting a new medical team, she begins by recounting her five biggest medical errors.

“I want them to come to me if they make a mistake,” she says. “I want to first make sure the patient is okay. But then I want to make sure the doctor is okay. I also want to know: What was it about the system that contributed to the error, and what can we do to prevent similar errors in the future?”
 

Acceptance and compassion

Time, experience, supportive peers, an understanding partner or spouse: all of these can help a doctor recover from the trauma of a mistake. “But they’re not an eraser,” Dr. Schwartz said.

Sometimes, doctors say, the path forward starts with acceptance.

Jan Bonhoeffer, MD, author of “Dare to Care: How to Survive and Thrive in Today’s Medical World,” tells a story about a mistake that transformed his life. In 2004, he was working in a busy London emergency department when an adolescent girl arrived complaining of breathing trouble. Dr. Bonhoeffer diagnosed her with asthma and discharged her with an inhaler. The next day, the girl was back in the hospital – this time in the ICU, intubated, and on a ventilator. Because he had failed to take an x-ray, Dr. Bonhoeffer missed the tumor growing in the girl’s chest.

Dr. Bonhoeffer was shattered by his error. “After that experience, I knew I wanted to make learning from my mistakes part of my daily practice,” he says. Now, at the end of each workday, Dr. Bonhoeffer takes an inventory of the day and reflects on all his actions, large and small, clinical and not. “I take a few minutes and think about everything I did and what I should have done differently,” he said. The daily practice can be humbling because it forces him to confront his errors, but it is also empowering, he said, “because the next day I get to make a different choice.”

Dr. Bonhoeffer added, “Doctors are fallible, and you have to be compassionate with yourself. Compassion isn’t sweet. It’s not motherhood and honey pies. It’s coming to terms with reality. It’s not a cure, but it’s healing.”

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

Peter Schwartz, MD, was chair of the department of obstetrics and gynecology at a hospital in Reading, Pa., in the mid-1990s when a young physician sought him out. The doctor, whom Dr. Schwartz regarded as talented and empathetic, was visibly shaken. The expectant mother they were caring for had just lost her unborn child.

“The doctor came into my office within an hour of the event and asked me to look at the case,” Dr. Schwartz recalled. “I could see that they had failed to recognize ominous changes in the fetal heart rate, and I faced the pain of having to tell them, ‘I think this could have been handled much better.’” Dr. Schwartz delivered the news as compassionately as he could, but a subsequent review confirmed his suspicion: The doctor had made a serious error.

“The doctor was devastated,” he said. “She got counseling and took time off, but in the end, she quit practicing medicine. She said, ‘If I keep practicing, something like that could happen again, and I don’t think I could handle it.’”

To err may be human, but in a health care setting, the harm can be catastrophic. While patients and their families are the ones who suffer most, doctors can be so traumatized by their medical mistakes that their feelings of guilt, shame, and self-doubt can lead to depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and even suicidal ideation. The trauma can be so profound that, in a now famous 2000 editorial in the British Medical Journal, Albert Wu, MD, gave the phenomenon a name: “second victim syndrome.”

Today, as quality improvement organizations and health systems work to address medical errors in a just and transparent way, they’re realizing that finding ways to help traumatized clinicians is integral to their efforts.
 

Are doctors really ‘second victims?’

Although the medical field is moving away from the term “second victim,” which patient advocates argue lacks a ring of accountability, the emotional trauma doctors and other clinicians endure is garnering increased attention. In the 2 decades since Dr. Wu wrote his editorial, research has shown that many types of adverse health care events can evoke traumatic responses. In fact, studies indicate that from 10.4% to 43.3% of health care workers may experience negative symptoms following an adverse event.

But for doctors – who have sworn an oath to do no harm – the emotional toll of having committed a serious medical error can be particularly burdensome and lingering. In a Dutch study involving more than 4,300 doctors and nurses, respondents who were involved in a patient safety incident that resulted in harm were nine times more likely to have negative symptoms lasting longer than 6 months than those who were involved in a near-miss experience.

“There’s a feeling of wanting to erase yourself,” says Danielle Ofri, MD, a New York internist and author of “When We Do Harm: A Doctor Confronts Medical Error.”

That emotional response can have a profound impact on the way medical errors are disclosed, investigated, and ultimately resolved, said Thomas Gallagher, MD, an internist and executive director of the Collaborative for Accountability and Improvement, a patient safety program at the University of Washington.

“When something goes wrong, as physicians, we don’t know what to do,” Dr. Gallagher says. “We feel awful, and often our human reflexes lead us astray. The doctor’s own emotions become barriers to addressing the situation.” For example, guilt and shame may lead doctors to try to hide or diminish their mistakes. Some doctors might try to shift blame, while others may feel so guilty they assume they were responsible for an outcome that was beyond their control.

Recognizing that clinicians’ responses to medical errors are inextricably tangled with how those events are addressed, a growing number of health systems are making clinician support a key element when dealing with medical errors.
 

Emotional first aid

Although it’s typical for physicians to feel isolated in the wake of errors, these experiences are far from unique. Research conducted by University of Missouri Health Care nurse scientist Susan Scott, RN, PhD, shows that just as most individuals experiencing grief pass through several distinct emotional stages, health care professionals who make errors go through emotional stages that may occur sequentially or concurrently.

An initial period of chaos is often followed by intrusive reflections, haunting re-enactments, and feelings of inadequacy. The doctor’s thinking moves from “How did that happen?” to “What did I miss?” to “What will people think about me?” As the error comes under scrutiny by quality improvement organizations, licensing boards, and/or lawyers, the doctor feels besieged. The doctor may want to reach out but is afraid to. According to Dr. Scott, only 15% of care providers ask for help.

Recognizing that physicians and other care providers rarely ask for support – or may not realize they need it – a growing number of health systems are implementing Communication and Resolution Programs (CRPs). Rather than respond to medical errors with a deny-and-defend mentality, CRPs emphasize transparency and accountability.

This approach, which the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality has embraced and codified with its Communication and Optimal Resolution (CANDOR) toolkit, focuses on prompt incident reporting; communication with and support for patients, family members, and caregivers affected by the event; event analysis; quality improvement; and just resolution of the event, including apologies and financial compensation where appropriate.

The CANDOR toolkit, which includes a module entitled Care for the Caregiver, directs health systems to identify individuals and establish teams, led by representatives from patient safety and/or risk management, who can respond promptly to an event. After ensuring the patient is clinically stable and safe, the CANDOR process provides for immediate and ongoing emotional support to the patient, the family, and the caregiver.

“A lot of what CRPs are about is creating structures and processes that normalize an open and compassionate response to harm events in medicine,” says Dr. Gallagher, who estimates that between 400 and 500 health systems now have CRPs in place.
 

Wisdom through adversity

While clinicians experience many difficult and negative emotions in the wake of medical errors, how they move forward after the event varies markedly. Some, unable to come to terms with the trauma, may move to another institution or leave medicine entirely. Others, while occasionally reliving the trauma, learn to cope. For the most fortunate, enduring the trauma of a medical error can lead to growth, insight, and wisdom.

In an article published in the journal Academic Medicine, researchers asked 61 physicians who had made serious medical errors, “What helped you to cope positively?” Some of the most common responses – talking about their feelings with a peer, disclosing and apologizing for a mistake, and developing system changes to prevent additional errors – are baked into some health systems’ CRP programs. Other respondents said they dedicated themselves to learning from the mistake, becoming experts in a given field, or sharing what they learned from the experience through teaching.

Dr. Ofri said that after she made an error decades ago while managing a patient with diabetic ketoacidosis, her senior resident publicly berated her for it. The incident taught her a clinical lesson: Never remove an insulin drip without administering long-acting insulin. More importantly, the resident’s verbal thumping taught her about the corrosive effects of shame. Today, Dr. Ofri, who works in a teaching hospital, says that when meeting a new medical team, she begins by recounting her five biggest medical errors.

“I want them to come to me if they make a mistake,” she says. “I want to first make sure the patient is okay. But then I want to make sure the doctor is okay. I also want to know: What was it about the system that contributed to the error, and what can we do to prevent similar errors in the future?”
 

Acceptance and compassion

Time, experience, supportive peers, an understanding partner or spouse: all of these can help a doctor recover from the trauma of a mistake. “But they’re not an eraser,” Dr. Schwartz said.

Sometimes, doctors say, the path forward starts with acceptance.

Jan Bonhoeffer, MD, author of “Dare to Care: How to Survive and Thrive in Today’s Medical World,” tells a story about a mistake that transformed his life. In 2004, he was working in a busy London emergency department when an adolescent girl arrived complaining of breathing trouble. Dr. Bonhoeffer diagnosed her with asthma and discharged her with an inhaler. The next day, the girl was back in the hospital – this time in the ICU, intubated, and on a ventilator. Because he had failed to take an x-ray, Dr. Bonhoeffer missed the tumor growing in the girl’s chest.

Dr. Bonhoeffer was shattered by his error. “After that experience, I knew I wanted to make learning from my mistakes part of my daily practice,” he says. Now, at the end of each workday, Dr. Bonhoeffer takes an inventory of the day and reflects on all his actions, large and small, clinical and not. “I take a few minutes and think about everything I did and what I should have done differently,” he said. The daily practice can be humbling because it forces him to confront his errors, but it is also empowering, he said, “because the next day I get to make a different choice.”

Dr. Bonhoeffer added, “Doctors are fallible, and you have to be compassionate with yourself. Compassion isn’t sweet. It’s not motherhood and honey pies. It’s coming to terms with reality. It’s not a cure, but it’s healing.”

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

Peter Schwartz, MD, was chair of the department of obstetrics and gynecology at a hospital in Reading, Pa., in the mid-1990s when a young physician sought him out. The doctor, whom Dr. Schwartz regarded as talented and empathetic, was visibly shaken. The expectant mother they were caring for had just lost her unborn child.

“The doctor came into my office within an hour of the event and asked me to look at the case,” Dr. Schwartz recalled. “I could see that they had failed to recognize ominous changes in the fetal heart rate, and I faced the pain of having to tell them, ‘I think this could have been handled much better.’” Dr. Schwartz delivered the news as compassionately as he could, but a subsequent review confirmed his suspicion: The doctor had made a serious error.

“The doctor was devastated,” he said. “She got counseling and took time off, but in the end, she quit practicing medicine. She said, ‘If I keep practicing, something like that could happen again, and I don’t think I could handle it.’”

To err may be human, but in a health care setting, the harm can be catastrophic. While patients and their families are the ones who suffer most, doctors can be so traumatized by their medical mistakes that their feelings of guilt, shame, and self-doubt can lead to depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and even suicidal ideation. The trauma can be so profound that, in a now famous 2000 editorial in the British Medical Journal, Albert Wu, MD, gave the phenomenon a name: “second victim syndrome.”

Today, as quality improvement organizations and health systems work to address medical errors in a just and transparent way, they’re realizing that finding ways to help traumatized clinicians is integral to their efforts.
 

Are doctors really ‘second victims?’

Although the medical field is moving away from the term “second victim,” which patient advocates argue lacks a ring of accountability, the emotional trauma doctors and other clinicians endure is garnering increased attention. In the 2 decades since Dr. Wu wrote his editorial, research has shown that many types of adverse health care events can evoke traumatic responses. In fact, studies indicate that from 10.4% to 43.3% of health care workers may experience negative symptoms following an adverse event.

But for doctors – who have sworn an oath to do no harm – the emotional toll of having committed a serious medical error can be particularly burdensome and lingering. In a Dutch study involving more than 4,300 doctors and nurses, respondents who were involved in a patient safety incident that resulted in harm were nine times more likely to have negative symptoms lasting longer than 6 months than those who were involved in a near-miss experience.

“There’s a feeling of wanting to erase yourself,” says Danielle Ofri, MD, a New York internist and author of “When We Do Harm: A Doctor Confronts Medical Error.”

That emotional response can have a profound impact on the way medical errors are disclosed, investigated, and ultimately resolved, said Thomas Gallagher, MD, an internist and executive director of the Collaborative for Accountability and Improvement, a patient safety program at the University of Washington.

“When something goes wrong, as physicians, we don’t know what to do,” Dr. Gallagher says. “We feel awful, and often our human reflexes lead us astray. The doctor’s own emotions become barriers to addressing the situation.” For example, guilt and shame may lead doctors to try to hide or diminish their mistakes. Some doctors might try to shift blame, while others may feel so guilty they assume they were responsible for an outcome that was beyond their control.

Recognizing that clinicians’ responses to medical errors are inextricably tangled with how those events are addressed, a growing number of health systems are making clinician support a key element when dealing with medical errors.
 

Emotional first aid

Although it’s typical for physicians to feel isolated in the wake of errors, these experiences are far from unique. Research conducted by University of Missouri Health Care nurse scientist Susan Scott, RN, PhD, shows that just as most individuals experiencing grief pass through several distinct emotional stages, health care professionals who make errors go through emotional stages that may occur sequentially or concurrently.

An initial period of chaos is often followed by intrusive reflections, haunting re-enactments, and feelings of inadequacy. The doctor’s thinking moves from “How did that happen?” to “What did I miss?” to “What will people think about me?” As the error comes under scrutiny by quality improvement organizations, licensing boards, and/or lawyers, the doctor feels besieged. The doctor may want to reach out but is afraid to. According to Dr. Scott, only 15% of care providers ask for help.

Recognizing that physicians and other care providers rarely ask for support – or may not realize they need it – a growing number of health systems are implementing Communication and Resolution Programs (CRPs). Rather than respond to medical errors with a deny-and-defend mentality, CRPs emphasize transparency and accountability.

This approach, which the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality has embraced and codified with its Communication and Optimal Resolution (CANDOR) toolkit, focuses on prompt incident reporting; communication with and support for patients, family members, and caregivers affected by the event; event analysis; quality improvement; and just resolution of the event, including apologies and financial compensation where appropriate.

The CANDOR toolkit, which includes a module entitled Care for the Caregiver, directs health systems to identify individuals and establish teams, led by representatives from patient safety and/or risk management, who can respond promptly to an event. After ensuring the patient is clinically stable and safe, the CANDOR process provides for immediate and ongoing emotional support to the patient, the family, and the caregiver.

“A lot of what CRPs are about is creating structures and processes that normalize an open and compassionate response to harm events in medicine,” says Dr. Gallagher, who estimates that between 400 and 500 health systems now have CRPs in place.
 

Wisdom through adversity

While clinicians experience many difficult and negative emotions in the wake of medical errors, how they move forward after the event varies markedly. Some, unable to come to terms with the trauma, may move to another institution or leave medicine entirely. Others, while occasionally reliving the trauma, learn to cope. For the most fortunate, enduring the trauma of a medical error can lead to growth, insight, and wisdom.

In an article published in the journal Academic Medicine, researchers asked 61 physicians who had made serious medical errors, “What helped you to cope positively?” Some of the most common responses – talking about their feelings with a peer, disclosing and apologizing for a mistake, and developing system changes to prevent additional errors – are baked into some health systems’ CRP programs. Other respondents said they dedicated themselves to learning from the mistake, becoming experts in a given field, or sharing what they learned from the experience through teaching.

Dr. Ofri said that after she made an error decades ago while managing a patient with diabetic ketoacidosis, her senior resident publicly berated her for it. The incident taught her a clinical lesson: Never remove an insulin drip without administering long-acting insulin. More importantly, the resident’s verbal thumping taught her about the corrosive effects of shame. Today, Dr. Ofri, who works in a teaching hospital, says that when meeting a new medical team, she begins by recounting her five biggest medical errors.

“I want them to come to me if they make a mistake,” she says. “I want to first make sure the patient is okay. But then I want to make sure the doctor is okay. I also want to know: What was it about the system that contributed to the error, and what can we do to prevent similar errors in the future?”
 

Acceptance and compassion

Time, experience, supportive peers, an understanding partner or spouse: all of these can help a doctor recover from the trauma of a mistake. “But they’re not an eraser,” Dr. Schwartz said.

Sometimes, doctors say, the path forward starts with acceptance.

Jan Bonhoeffer, MD, author of “Dare to Care: How to Survive and Thrive in Today’s Medical World,” tells a story about a mistake that transformed his life. In 2004, he was working in a busy London emergency department when an adolescent girl arrived complaining of breathing trouble. Dr. Bonhoeffer diagnosed her with asthma and discharged her with an inhaler. The next day, the girl was back in the hospital – this time in the ICU, intubated, and on a ventilator. Because he had failed to take an x-ray, Dr. Bonhoeffer missed the tumor growing in the girl’s chest.

Dr. Bonhoeffer was shattered by his error. “After that experience, I knew I wanted to make learning from my mistakes part of my daily practice,” he says. Now, at the end of each workday, Dr. Bonhoeffer takes an inventory of the day and reflects on all his actions, large and small, clinical and not. “I take a few minutes and think about everything I did and what I should have done differently,” he said. The daily practice can be humbling because it forces him to confront his errors, but it is also empowering, he said, “because the next day I get to make a different choice.”

Dr. Bonhoeffer added, “Doctors are fallible, and you have to be compassionate with yourself. Compassion isn’t sweet. It’s not motherhood and honey pies. It’s coming to terms with reality. It’s not a cure, but it’s healing.”

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

From the American Medical Association to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, health equity is the topic de jour. But how do you get health professionals, lawmakers, lactation providers, and the community on the same page, especially when it comes to addressing breastfeeding disparities?

It depends on who you ask.

In Georgia, a 2018 lawsuit challenging a State Legislature Bill directed toward lactation providers sits on the desk of a trial court judge, with a decision due any day now. The bill requires these providers to be licensed in order to continue to practice and receive compensation, a move that not only threatens the health of mothers and infants, but also jeopardizes a key component of Healthy People 2030: improving breastfeeding initiation, duration, and exclusivity among African American women. A similar bill is in Committee in the New York State Legislature.

“If the Act takes effect, it will force an estimated 800 different practitioners out of business and leave only 162 International Board Certified Lactation Counselors (IBCLCs) for the whole state,” Jaimie Cavanaugh, an attorney at the Institute for Justice and plaintiff coattorney said in an interview.

Ms. Cavanaugh also said that geographical data for the 162 IBCLCs demonstrate that they primarily work in urban vs. rural areas, and mostly in formal settings, factors that will further exacerbate disparities and limit access to much needed resources.
 

Bridging the breastfeeding divide

While overall breastfeeding initiation rates in the United States have steadily increased over the past decade from 72% to roughly 84%, only a quarter of infants are exclusively breastfed through 6 months, a rate well below the Healthy People 2030 goal of 42.4% (and American Academy of Pediatrics recommendations). Comparatively, breastfeeding initiation (75.8%) and exclusivity (17.2%) rates among African-American women are considerably lower.

The effects are great: Breastfed infants have lower risks for asthma, obesity, and type 1 diabetes, while mothers who breastfeed have lower risks for hypertension, type 2 diabetes, and gynecological cancers. Notably, most of these conditions disproportionately affect African Americans, compared with Whites and other ethnicities.

A key to changing these disparities appears to lie with the type of health care provided as well as the ease by which mothers can access it.

For example, findings of a small cross-sectional study published Jan. 31 in the Journal of Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities highlight the importance of a broad umbrella of support for African American mothers’ feeding choices. Not only does this umbrella include medical professionals and IBCLCs, but also certified lactation counselors (CLCs), peer counselors trained under the National Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children, partners, family, and the community at-large.

“We thought we were doing it right,” Lydia Furman, MD, lead study author and pediatric specialist at University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children’s Ahuja Center for Women & Children in Cleveland, told this news organization. “We have a WIC peer helper, an African American IBCLC and an African American CLC, and a breastfeeding support group twice a week but nobody was using these resources.”

One of the most important findings of the study – which aimed to understand factors driving breastfeeding practices and identify supports – was that women want help when they need it. “It doesn’t mean that you can’t have resources that are available during the day, but it means that a patient support group at 11 a.m. on Tuesday doesn’t help at all if you need it Monday at 2 a.m.” Dr. Furman said.

Take TaNeeka Davis, a 34-year-old mother of three residing outside of Atlanta whose personal experience mimics those of the women in Dr. Furman’s study. “I did breastfeed my first child; when I was in the hospital. I saw lactation one time and he latched perfectly but when I left the hospital, I couldn’t get him to latch anymore,” she said.

Precious T. Photography, Atlanta

Ms. Davis explained that she was told that she would have to wait 2-3 weeks before she was able to meet again with a lactation specialist, so she found herself supplementing with formula, and eventually seeking nontraditional help.

“The traditional medical model does not allow for me to be able to reach out and talk to my doctor immediately, does not allow me to be like, ‘Hey, can you call me back in the next 15-20 minutes or an hour because my baby’s very fussy,’ ” Ms. Davis said. “I don’t have that kind of support.”
 

It takes a village

A 2017 Cochrane review reinforces the value of providing women with predictable, tailored, and multifaceted breastfeeding support offered by professional or lay/peer people or a combination of both.

This model is embodied in ROSE, a nonprofit organization dedicated to eliminating breastfeeding disparities and barriers experienced by mothers of color, including inadequate medical or family support, lack of shared decision-making, recognition of financial or psychological challenges, and historical antecedents. Many of these women’s ancestors were forced to wet-nurse slave masters’ children instead of breastfeeding their own children.

One of several national organizations solely dedicated to this issue, ROSE offers a variety of services and resources ranging from lactation counseling and peer support training programs to training for health professionals (for example, pediatricians, nurses) that serve communities of color. A companion arm (ROBE, Reaching Our Brothers Everywhere) aims to bring men into the fold through breastfeeding education and peer-to-peer connection. All of these services are provided in a judgment-free, culturally sensitive environment.

“We need to look not only into maternal health issues ... but also offer support to people who are working in the birthing community,” cofounder Mary N. Jackson, a CLC, WIC lactation consultant, and former president of the Georgia Breastfeeding Coalition said in an interview.

“We have Morehouse pediatricians coming to us just to talk to moms on how they can support them in the community. We have training – Community Transformers – where we talk to moms regardless of their social backgrounds; they’re working in the community helping other moms with breastfeeding, or moms will call them (with) their questions,” Ms. Jackson explained. Ms. Davis is now one of these women.

“Having the women of ROSE support me ... was such a game-changer,” she said. “Sometimes that support that you need, that is helpful, is peer-to-peer,” she noted, adding that ROSE does a lot more than fill in the gaps medically, but also psychologically.”
 

More pillars, less judgment

TaNeeka Davis pointed out that removing a pillar in the community like ROSE and other grassroots support outside of traditional models will likely have the opposite effect that lawmakers and the lobbyists fighting for certification and licensing aim to achieve, especially if other states adopt the same approach.

“The disparities are going to get even greater, you are going to see bigger gaps, less women even initiating breastfeeding. Why start something that you can’t finish? You can’t tell me that making laws that limit the amount of help we are able to get when it comes to breastfeeding will not have a detrimental effect – health effects – later in life,” she said.

Neither Ms. Jackson nor Ms. Davis believe that medical professionals should be replaced but rather that adjunctive, community-based help is integral for bridging the breastfeeding divide.

As clinicians, “we have to go beyond not judging to trying to figure out where people are, to meet your patients where they are,” said Dr. Furman. “It’s like the difference between cultural competence and cultural humility, which is more of an ongoing process.

Dr. Furman and Ms. Davis report no relevant financial relationships. Ms. Cavanaugh is the coattorney on the lawsuit. Ms. Jackson is employed by ROSE.

*This story was updated on Feb. 11, 2022.

From the American Medical Association to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, health equity is the topic de jour. But how do you get health professionals, lawmakers, lactation providers, and the community on the same page, especially when it comes to addressing breastfeeding disparities?

It depends on who you ask.

In Georgia, a 2018 lawsuit challenging a State Legislature Bill directed toward lactation providers sits on the desk of a trial court judge, with a decision due any day now. The bill requires these providers to be licensed in order to continue to practice and receive compensation, a move that not only threatens the health of mothers and infants, but also jeopardizes a key component of Healthy People 2030: improving breastfeeding initiation, duration, and exclusivity among African American women. A similar bill is in Committee in the New York State Legislature.

“If the Act takes effect, it will force an estimated 800 different practitioners out of business and leave only 162 International Board Certified Lactation Counselors (IBCLCs) for the whole state,” Jaimie Cavanaugh, an attorney at the Institute for Justice and plaintiff coattorney said in an interview.

Ms. Cavanaugh also said that geographical data for the 162 IBCLCs demonstrate that they primarily work in urban vs. rural areas, and mostly in formal settings, factors that will further exacerbate disparities and limit access to much needed resources.
 

Bridging the breastfeeding divide

While overall breastfeeding initiation rates in the United States have steadily increased over the past decade from 72% to roughly 84%, only a quarter of infants are exclusively breastfed through 6 months, a rate well below the Healthy People 2030 goal of 42.4% (and American Academy of Pediatrics recommendations). Comparatively, breastfeeding initiation (75.8%) and exclusivity (17.2%) rates among African-American women are considerably lower.

The effects are great: Breastfed infants have lower risks for asthma, obesity, and type 1 diabetes, while mothers who breastfeed have lower risks for hypertension, type 2 diabetes, and gynecological cancers. Notably, most of these conditions disproportionately affect African Americans, compared with Whites and other ethnicities.

A key to changing these disparities appears to lie with the type of health care provided as well as the ease by which mothers can access it.

For example, findings of a small cross-sectional study published Jan. 31 in the Journal of Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities highlight the importance of a broad umbrella of support for African American mothers’ feeding choices. Not only does this umbrella include medical professionals and IBCLCs, but also certified lactation counselors (CLCs), peer counselors trained under the National Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children, partners, family, and the community at-large.

“We thought we were doing it right,” Lydia Furman, MD, lead study author and pediatric specialist at University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children’s Ahuja Center for Women & Children in Cleveland, told this news organization. “We have a WIC peer helper, an African American IBCLC and an African American CLC, and a breastfeeding support group twice a week but nobody was using these resources.”

One of the most important findings of the study – which aimed to understand factors driving breastfeeding practices and identify supports – was that women want help when they need it. “It doesn’t mean that you can’t have resources that are available during the day, but it means that a patient support group at 11 a.m. on Tuesday doesn’t help at all if you need it Monday at 2 a.m.” Dr. Furman said.

Take TaNeeka Davis, a 34-year-old mother of three residing outside of Atlanta whose personal experience mimics those of the women in Dr. Furman’s study. “I did breastfeed my first child; when I was in the hospital. I saw lactation one time and he latched perfectly but when I left the hospital, I couldn’t get him to latch anymore,” she said.

Precious T. Photography, Atlanta

Ms. Davis explained that she was told that she would have to wait 2-3 weeks before she was able to meet again with a lactation specialist, so she found herself supplementing with formula, and eventually seeking nontraditional help.

“The traditional medical model does not allow for me to be able to reach out and talk to my doctor immediately, does not allow me to be like, ‘Hey, can you call me back in the next 15-20 minutes or an hour because my baby’s very fussy,’ ” Ms. Davis said. “I don’t have that kind of support.”
 

It takes a village

A 2017 Cochrane review reinforces the value of providing women with predictable, tailored, and multifaceted breastfeeding support offered by professional or lay/peer people or a combination of both.

This model is embodied in ROSE, a nonprofit organization dedicated to eliminating breastfeeding disparities and barriers experienced by mothers of color, including inadequate medical or family support, lack of shared decision-making, recognition of financial or psychological challenges, and historical antecedents. Many of these women’s ancestors were forced to wet-nurse slave masters’ children instead of breastfeeding their own children.

One of several national organizations solely dedicated to this issue, ROSE offers a variety of services and resources ranging from lactation counseling and peer support training programs to training for health professionals (for example, pediatricians, nurses) that serve communities of color. A companion arm (ROBE, Reaching Our Brothers Everywhere) aims to bring men into the fold through breastfeeding education and peer-to-peer connection. All of these services are provided in a judgment-free, culturally sensitive environment.

“We need to look not only into maternal health issues ... but also offer support to people who are working in the birthing community,” cofounder Mary N. Jackson, a CLC, WIC lactation consultant, and former president of the Georgia Breastfeeding Coalition said in an interview.

“We have Morehouse pediatricians coming to us just to talk to moms on how they can support them in the community. We have training – Community Transformers – where we talk to moms regardless of their social backgrounds; they’re working in the community helping other moms with breastfeeding, or moms will call them (with) their questions,” Ms. Jackson explained. Ms. Davis is now one of these women.

“Having the women of ROSE support me ... was such a game-changer,” she said. “Sometimes that support that you need, that is helpful, is peer-to-peer,” she noted, adding that ROSE does a lot more than fill in the gaps medically, but also psychologically.”
 

More pillars, less judgment

TaNeeka Davis pointed out that removing a pillar in the community like ROSE and other grassroots support outside of traditional models will likely have the opposite effect that lawmakers and the lobbyists fighting for certification and licensing aim to achieve, especially if other states adopt the same approach.

“The disparities are going to get even greater, you are going to see bigger gaps, less women even initiating breastfeeding. Why start something that you can’t finish? You can’t tell me that making laws that limit the amount of help we are able to get when it comes to breastfeeding will not have a detrimental effect – health effects – later in life,” she said.

Neither Ms. Jackson nor Ms. Davis believe that medical professionals should be replaced but rather that adjunctive, community-based help is integral for bridging the breastfeeding divide.

As clinicians, “we have to go beyond not judging to trying to figure out where people are, to meet your patients where they are,” said Dr. Furman. “It’s like the difference between cultural competence and cultural humility, which is more of an ongoing process.

Dr. Furman and Ms. Davis report no relevant financial relationships. Ms. Cavanaugh is the coattorney on the lawsuit. Ms. Jackson is employed by ROSE.

*This story was updated on Feb. 11, 2022.

From the American Medical Association to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, health equity is the topic de jour. But how do you get health professionals, lawmakers, lactation providers, and the community on the same page, especially when it comes to addressing breastfeeding disparities?

It depends on who you ask.

In Georgia, a 2018 lawsuit challenging a State Legislature Bill directed toward lactation providers sits on the desk of a trial court judge, with a decision due any day now. The bill requires these providers to be licensed in order to continue to practice and receive compensation, a move that not only threatens the health of mothers and infants, but also jeopardizes a key component of Healthy People 2030: improving breastfeeding initiation, duration, and exclusivity among African American women. A similar bill is in Committee in the New York State Legislature.

“If the Act takes effect, it will force an estimated 800 different practitioners out of business and leave only 162 International Board Certified Lactation Counselors (IBCLCs) for the whole state,” Jaimie Cavanaugh, an attorney at the Institute for Justice and plaintiff coattorney said in an interview.

Ms. Cavanaugh also said that geographical data for the 162 IBCLCs demonstrate that they primarily work in urban vs. rural areas, and mostly in formal settings, factors that will further exacerbate disparities and limit access to much needed resources.
 

Bridging the breastfeeding divide

While overall breastfeeding initiation rates in the United States have steadily increased over the past decade from 72% to roughly 84%, only a quarter of infants are exclusively breastfed through 6 months, a rate well below the Healthy People 2030 goal of 42.4% (and American Academy of Pediatrics recommendations). Comparatively, breastfeeding initiation (75.8%) and exclusivity (17.2%) rates among African-American women are considerably lower.

The effects are great: Breastfed infants have lower risks for asthma, obesity, and type 1 diabetes, while mothers who breastfeed have lower risks for hypertension, type 2 diabetes, and gynecological cancers. Notably, most of these conditions disproportionately affect African Americans, compared with Whites and other ethnicities.

A key to changing these disparities appears to lie with the type of health care provided as well as the ease by which mothers can access it.

For example, findings of a small cross-sectional study published Jan. 31 in the Journal of Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities highlight the importance of a broad umbrella of support for African American mothers’ feeding choices. Not only does this umbrella include medical professionals and IBCLCs, but also certified lactation counselors (CLCs), peer counselors trained under the National Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children, partners, family, and the community at-large.

“We thought we were doing it right,” Lydia Furman, MD, lead study author and pediatric specialist at University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children’s Ahuja Center for Women & Children in Cleveland, told this news organization. “We have a WIC peer helper, an African American IBCLC and an African American CLC, and a breastfeeding support group twice a week but nobody was using these resources.”

One of the most important findings of the study – which aimed to understand factors driving breastfeeding practices and identify supports – was that women want help when they need it. “It doesn’t mean that you can’t have resources that are available during the day, but it means that a patient support group at 11 a.m. on Tuesday doesn’t help at all if you need it Monday at 2 a.m.” Dr. Furman said.

Take TaNeeka Davis, a 34-year-old mother of three residing outside of Atlanta whose personal experience mimics those of the women in Dr. Furman’s study. “I did breastfeed my first child; when I was in the hospital. I saw lactation one time and he latched perfectly but when I left the hospital, I couldn’t get him to latch anymore,” she said.

Precious T. Photography, Atlanta

Ms. Davis explained that she was told that she would have to wait 2-3 weeks before she was able to meet again with a lactation specialist, so she found herself supplementing with formula, and eventually seeking nontraditional help.

“The traditional medical model does not allow for me to be able to reach out and talk to my doctor immediately, does not allow me to be like, ‘Hey, can you call me back in the next 15-20 minutes or an hour because my baby’s very fussy,’ ” Ms. Davis said. “I don’t have that kind of support.”
 

It takes a village

A 2017 Cochrane review reinforces the value of providing women with predictable, tailored, and multifaceted breastfeeding support offered by professional or lay/peer people or a combination of both.

This model is embodied in ROSE, a nonprofit organization dedicated to eliminating breastfeeding disparities and barriers experienced by mothers of color, including inadequate medical or family support, lack of shared decision-making, recognition of financial or psychological challenges, and historical antecedents. Many of these women’s ancestors were forced to wet-nurse slave masters’ children instead of breastfeeding their own children.

One of several national organizations solely dedicated to this issue, ROSE offers a variety of services and resources ranging from lactation counseling and peer support training programs to training for health professionals (for example, pediatricians, nurses) that serve communities of color. A companion arm (ROBE, Reaching Our Brothers Everywhere) aims to bring men into the fold through breastfeeding education and peer-to-peer connection. All of these services are provided in a judgment-free, culturally sensitive environment.

“We need to look not only into maternal health issues ... but also offer support to people who are working in the birthing community,” cofounder Mary N. Jackson, a CLC, WIC lactation consultant, and former president of the Georgia Breastfeeding Coalition said in an interview.

“We have Morehouse pediatricians coming to us just to talk to moms on how they can support them in the community. We have training – Community Transformers – where we talk to moms regardless of their social backgrounds; they’re working in the community helping other moms with breastfeeding, or moms will call them (with) their questions,” Ms. Jackson explained. Ms. Davis is now one of these women.

“Having the women of ROSE support me ... was such a game-changer,” she said. “Sometimes that support that you need, that is helpful, is peer-to-peer,” she noted, adding that ROSE does a lot more than fill in the gaps medically, but also psychologically.”
 

More pillars, less judgment

TaNeeka Davis pointed out that removing a pillar in the community like ROSE and other grassroots support outside of traditional models will likely have the opposite effect that lawmakers and the lobbyists fighting for certification and licensing aim to achieve, especially if other states adopt the same approach.

“The disparities are going to get even greater, you are going to see bigger gaps, less women even initiating breastfeeding. Why start something that you can’t finish? You can’t tell me that making laws that limit the amount of help we are able to get when it comes to breastfeeding will not have a detrimental effect – health effects – later in life,” she said.

Neither Ms. Jackson nor Ms. Davis believe that medical professionals should be replaced but rather that adjunctive, community-based help is integral for bridging the breastfeeding divide.

As clinicians, “we have to go beyond not judging to trying to figure out where people are, to meet your patients where they are,” said Dr. Furman. “It’s like the difference between cultural competence and cultural humility, which is more of an ongoing process.

Dr. Furman and Ms. Davis report no relevant financial relationships. Ms. Cavanaugh is the coattorney on the lawsuit. Ms. Jackson is employed by ROSE.

*This story was updated on Feb. 11, 2022.

The American Academy of Pediatrics said it supports the Recommended Childhood and Adolescent Immunization Schedule: United States, 2022.

In a policy statement published online Feb. 17 in Pediatrics, the AAP said the updated recommendations differ little from those released last year by the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“The only significant change this year was to add the dengue vaccine to the schedule,” Sean T. O’Leary, MD, MPH, vice chair of the AAP’s 2021-2022 Committee on Infectious Diseases and a coauthor of the statement, told this news organization. “But that is really only relevant for children living in endemic areas, primarily Puerto Rico but some other smaller U.S .territories as well.”

Dengue fever also is endemic in American Samoa and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Notably, a new section has been added on routine recommendations for use of the Dengvaxia vaccine.

The 2022 policy statement addresses regular immunization of children from birth to 18 years and catch-up vaccination for those aged 4 months to 18 years. In addition to the AAP, multiple complementary physician and nurse organizations have approved the updates. The ACIP schedule is revised annually to reflect current recommendations on vaccines licensed by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

Most of the other changes this year involve minor updates to clarify language or improve usability. “CDC and AAP are always working to make the schedule as user-friendly as possible, with improvements made every year,” Dr. O’Leary, professor of pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said.

In terms of physician acceptance, he added, “I don’t think any of the changes would be considered controversial.”

Among other updates and clarifications:

• For Haemophilus influenzae type b (Hib) vaccination, the text now includes recommendations for the hexavalent Vaxelis vaccine (diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis, polio, Hib, and hepatitis B) for both routine and catch-up vaccination.
• For hepatitis A, the relevant note has been updated to clarify the age for routine vaccination.
• For human papillomavirus (HPV), the note now clarifies when an HPV series is complete with no additional dose recommended.
• The special situations section has been amended to specify which persons with immunocompromising conditions such as HIV should receive three doses of HPV vaccine regardless of age at initial vaccination.
• For measles, mumps, and rubella, routine vaccination now includes recommendations on the combination measles, mumps, rubella, and varicella vaccine.
• For meningococcal serogroup A, C, W, and Y vaccines, the augmented text explains when these can be simultaneously administered with serogroup B meningococcal vaccines, preferably at different anatomic sites. The language for the dosing schedule for Menveo vaccination in infants also has been clarified.
• In the catch-up immunization schedule for late-starting children aged 4 months to 18 years, the text on Hib has been changed so that the minimum interval between dose two and dose three now refers to Vaxelis, while reference to the discontinued Comvax (Hib-Hep B) vaccine has been removed.

As in other years, graphic changes have been made to table coloration and layout to improve accessibility. And as before, the 2022 childhood and adolescent immunization schedule has been updated to ensure consistency between its format and that of the 2022 adult immunization schedules.

The AAP committee stressed that clinically significant adverse events after immunization should be reported to the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System.

The full 2022 schedule can be found on the CDC’s website.

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

The American Academy of Pediatrics said it supports the Recommended Childhood and Adolescent Immunization Schedule: United States, 2022.

In a policy statement published online Feb. 17 in Pediatrics, the AAP said the updated recommendations differ little from those released last year by the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“The only significant change this year was to add the dengue vaccine to the schedule,” Sean T. O’Leary, MD, MPH, vice chair of the AAP’s 2021-2022 Committee on Infectious Diseases and a coauthor of the statement, told this news organization. “But that is really only relevant for children living in endemic areas, primarily Puerto Rico but some other smaller U.S .territories as well.”

Dengue fever also is endemic in American Samoa and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Notably, a new section has been added on routine recommendations for use of the Dengvaxia vaccine.

The 2022 policy statement addresses regular immunization of children from birth to 18 years and catch-up vaccination for those aged 4 months to 18 years. In addition to the AAP, multiple complementary physician and nurse organizations have approved the updates. The ACIP schedule is revised annually to reflect current recommendations on vaccines licensed by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

Most of the other changes this year involve minor updates to clarify language or improve usability. “CDC and AAP are always working to make the schedule as user-friendly as possible, with improvements made every year,” Dr. O’Leary, professor of pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said.

In terms of physician acceptance, he added, “I don’t think any of the changes would be considered controversial.”

Among other updates and clarifications:

• For Haemophilus influenzae type b (Hib) vaccination, the text now includes recommendations for the hexavalent Vaxelis vaccine (diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis, polio, Hib, and hepatitis B) for both routine and catch-up vaccination.
• For hepatitis A, the relevant note has been updated to clarify the age for routine vaccination.
• For human papillomavirus (HPV), the note now clarifies when an HPV series is complete with no additional dose recommended.
• The special situations section has been amended to specify which persons with immunocompromising conditions such as HIV should receive three doses of HPV vaccine regardless of age at initial vaccination.
• For measles, mumps, and rubella, routine vaccination now includes recommendations on the combination measles, mumps, rubella, and varicella vaccine.
• For meningococcal serogroup A, C, W, and Y vaccines, the augmented text explains when these can be simultaneously administered with serogroup B meningococcal vaccines, preferably at different anatomic sites. The language for the dosing schedule for Menveo vaccination in infants also has been clarified.
• In the catch-up immunization schedule for late-starting children aged 4 months to 18 years, the text on Hib has been changed so that the minimum interval between dose two and dose three now refers to Vaxelis, while reference to the discontinued Comvax (Hib-Hep B) vaccine has been removed.

As in other years, graphic changes have been made to table coloration and layout to improve accessibility. And as before, the 2022 childhood and adolescent immunization schedule has been updated to ensure consistency between its format and that of the 2022 adult immunization schedules.

The AAP committee stressed that clinically significant adverse events after immunization should be reported to the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System.

The full 2022 schedule can be found on the CDC’s website.

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

The American Academy of Pediatrics said it supports the Recommended Childhood and Adolescent Immunization Schedule: United States, 2022.

In a policy statement published online Feb. 17 in Pediatrics, the AAP said the updated recommendations differ little from those released last year by the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“The only significant change this year was to add the dengue vaccine to the schedule,” Sean T. O’Leary, MD, MPH, vice chair of the AAP’s 2021-2022 Committee on Infectious Diseases and a coauthor of the statement, told this news organization. “But that is really only relevant for children living in endemic areas, primarily Puerto Rico but some other smaller U.S .territories as well.”

Dengue fever also is endemic in American Samoa and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Notably, a new section has been added on routine recommendations for use of the Dengvaxia vaccine.

The 2022 policy statement addresses regular immunization of children from birth to 18 years and catch-up vaccination for those aged 4 months to 18 years. In addition to the AAP, multiple complementary physician and nurse organizations have approved the updates. The ACIP schedule is revised annually to reflect current recommendations on vaccines licensed by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

Most of the other changes this year involve minor updates to clarify language or improve usability. “CDC and AAP are always working to make the schedule as user-friendly as possible, with improvements made every year,” Dr. O’Leary, professor of pediatric infectious diseases at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said.

In terms of physician acceptance, he added, “I don’t think any of the changes would be considered controversial.”

Among other updates and clarifications:

• For Haemophilus influenzae type b (Hib) vaccination, the text now includes recommendations for the hexavalent Vaxelis vaccine (diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis, polio, Hib, and hepatitis B) for both routine and catch-up vaccination.
• For hepatitis A, the relevant note has been updated to clarify the age for routine vaccination.
• For human papillomavirus (HPV), the note now clarifies when an HPV series is complete with no additional dose recommended.
• The special situations section has been amended to specify which persons with immunocompromising conditions such as HIV should receive three doses of HPV vaccine regardless of age at initial vaccination.
• For measles, mumps, and rubella, routine vaccination now includes recommendations on the combination measles, mumps, rubella, and varicella vaccine.
• For meningococcal serogroup A, C, W, and Y vaccines, the augmented text explains when these can be simultaneously administered with serogroup B meningococcal vaccines, preferably at different anatomic sites. The language for the dosing schedule for Menveo vaccination in infants also has been clarified.
• In the catch-up immunization schedule for late-starting children aged 4 months to 18 years, the text on Hib has been changed so that the minimum interval between dose two and dose three now refers to Vaxelis, while reference to the discontinued Comvax (Hib-Hep B) vaccine has been removed.

As in other years, graphic changes have been made to table coloration and layout to improve accessibility. And as before, the 2022 childhood and adolescent immunization schedule has been updated to ensure consistency between its format and that of the 2022 adult immunization schedules.

The AAP committee stressed that clinically significant adverse events after immunization should be reported to the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System.

The full 2022 schedule can be found on the CDC’s website.

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

Junk (germs) in the trunk

It’s been a long drive, and you’ve got a long way to go. You pull into a rest stop to use the bathroom and get some food. Quick, which order do you do those things in?

If you’re not a crazy person, you’d use the bathroom and then get your food. Who would bring food into a dirty bathroom? That’s kind of gross. Most people would take care of business, grab food, then get back in the car, eating along the way. Unfortunately, if you’re searching for a sanitary eating environment, your car may not actually be much better than that bathroom, according to new research from Aston University in Birmingham, England.

Robert Couse-Baker/PxHere

Let’s start off with the good news. The steering wheels of the five used cars that were swabbed for bacteria were pretty clean. Definitely cleaner than either of the toilet seats analyzed, likely thanks to increased usage of sanitizer, courtesy of the current pandemic. It’s easy to wipe down the steering wheel. Things break down, though, once we look elsewhere. The interiors of the five cars all contained just as much, if not more, bacteria than the toilet seats, with fecal matter commonly appearing on the driver’s seat.

The car interiors were less than sanitary, but they paled in comparison with the real winner here: the trunk. In each of the five cars, bacteria levels there far exceeded those in the toilets, and included everyone’s favorites – Escherichia coli and Staphylococcus aureus.

So, snacking on a bag of chips as you drive along is probably okay, but the food that popped out of its bag and spent the last 5 minutes rolling around the back? Perhaps less okay. You may want to wash it. Or burn it. Or torch the entire car for good measure like we’re about to do. Next time we’ll buy a car without poop in it.
 

Shut the lid when you flush

Maybe you’ve never thought about this, but it’s actually extremely important to shut the toilet lid when you flush. Just think of all those germs flying around from the force of the flush. Is your toothbrush anywhere near the toilet? Ew. Those pesky little bacteria and viruses are everywhere, and we know we can’t really escape them, but we should really do our best once we’re made aware of where to find them.

Marco Verch/ccnull.de/CC by 2.0

It seems like a no-brainer these days since we’ve all been really focused on cleanliness during the pandemic, but according to a poll in the United Kingdom, 55% of the 2,000 participants said they don’t put the lid down while flushing.

The OnePoll survey commissioned by Harpic, a company that makes toilet-cleaning products, also advised that toilet water isn’t even completely clean after flushed several times and can still be contaminated with many germs. Company researchers took specialized pictures of flushing toilets and they looked like tiny little Fourth of July fireworks shows, minus the sparklers. The pictures proved that droplets can go all over the place, including on bathroom users.

“There has never been a more important time to take extra care around our homes, although the risks associated with germ spread in unhygienic bathrooms are high, the solution to keeping them clean is simple,” a Harpic researcher said. Since other studies have shown that coronavirus can be found in feces, it’s become increasingly important to keep ourselves and others safe. Fireworks are pretty, but not when they come out of your toilet.
 

The latest in MRI fashion

Do you see that photo just below? Looks like something you could buy at the Lego store, right? Well, it’s not. Nor is it the proverbial thinking cap come to life.

(Did someone just say “come to life”? That reminds us of our favorite scene from Frosty the Snowman.)

Cydney Scott/Boston University

Anywaaay, about the photo. That funny-looking chapeau is what we in the science business call a metamaterial.

Nope, metamaterials have nothing to do with Facebook parent company Meta. We checked. According to a statement from Boston University, they are engineered structures “created from small unit cells that might be unspectacular alone, but when grouped together in a precise way, get new superpowers not found in nature.”

Superpowers, eh? Who doesn’t want superpowers? Even if they come with a funny hat.

The unit cells, known as resonators, are just plastic tubes wrapped in copper wiring, but when they are grouped in an array and precisely arranged into a helmet, they can channel the magnetic field of the MRI machine during a scan. In theory, that would create “crisper images that can be captured at twice the normal speed,” Xin Zhang, PhD, and her team at BU’s Photonics Center explained in the university statement.

In the future, the metamaterial device could “be used in conjunction with cheaper low-field MRI machines to make the technology more widely available, particularly in the developing world,” they suggested. Or, like so many other superpowers, it could fall into the wrong hands. Like those of Lex Luthor. Or Mark Zuckerberg. Or Frosty the Snowman.
 

The highway of the mind

How fast can you think on your feet? Well, according to a recently published study, it could be a legitimate measure of intelligence. Here’s the science.

Epifantsev/Thinkstock

Researchers from the University of Würzburg in Germany and Indiana University have suggested that a person’s intelligence score measures the ability, based on certain neuronal networks and their communication structures, to switch between resting state and different task states.

The investigators set up a study to observe almost 800 people while they completed seven tasks. By monitoring brain activity with functional magnetic resonance imaging, the teams found that subjects who had higher intelligence scores required “less adjustment when switching between different cognitive states,” they said in a separate statement.

It comes down to the network architecture of their brains.

Kirsten Hilger, PhD, head of the German group, described it in terms of highways. The resting state of the brain is normal traffic. It’s always moving. Holiday traffic is the task. The ability to handle the increased flow of commuters is a function of the highway infrastructure. The better the infrastructure, the higher the intelligence.

So the next time you’re stuck in traffic, think how efficient your brain would be with such a task. The quicker, the better.

Junk (germs) in the trunk

It’s been a long drive, and you’ve got a long way to go. You pull into a rest stop to use the bathroom and get some food. Quick, which order do you do those things in?

If you’re not a crazy person, you’d use the bathroom and then get your food. Who would bring food into a dirty bathroom? That’s kind of gross. Most people would take care of business, grab food, then get back in the car, eating along the way. Unfortunately, if you’re searching for a sanitary eating environment, your car may not actually be much better than that bathroom, according to new research from Aston University in Birmingham, England.

Robert Couse-Baker/PxHere

Let’s start off with the good news. The steering wheels of the five used cars that were swabbed for bacteria were pretty clean. Definitely cleaner than either of the toilet seats analyzed, likely thanks to increased usage of sanitizer, courtesy of the current pandemic. It’s easy to wipe down the steering wheel. Things break down, though, once we look elsewhere. The interiors of the five cars all contained just as much, if not more, bacteria than the toilet seats, with fecal matter commonly appearing on the driver’s seat.

The car interiors were less than sanitary, but they paled in comparison with the real winner here: the trunk. In each of the five cars, bacteria levels there far exceeded those in the toilets, and included everyone’s favorites – Escherichia coli and Staphylococcus aureus.

So, snacking on a bag of chips as you drive along is probably okay, but the food that popped out of its bag and spent the last 5 minutes rolling around the back? Perhaps less okay. You may want to wash it. Or burn it. Or torch the entire car for good measure like we’re about to do. Next time we’ll buy a car without poop in it.
 

Shut the lid when you flush

Maybe you’ve never thought about this, but it’s actually extremely important to shut the toilet lid when you flush. Just think of all those germs flying around from the force of the flush. Is your toothbrush anywhere near the toilet? Ew. Those pesky little bacteria and viruses are everywhere, and we know we can’t really escape them, but we should really do our best once we’re made aware of where to find them.

Marco Verch/ccnull.de/CC by 2.0

It seems like a no-brainer these days since we’ve all been really focused on cleanliness during the pandemic, but according to a poll in the United Kingdom, 55% of the 2,000 participants said they don’t put the lid down while flushing.

The OnePoll survey commissioned by Harpic, a company that makes toilet-cleaning products, also advised that toilet water isn’t even completely clean after flushed several times and can still be contaminated with many germs. Company researchers took specialized pictures of flushing toilets and they looked like tiny little Fourth of July fireworks shows, minus the sparklers. The pictures proved that droplets can go all over the place, including on bathroom users.

“There has never been a more important time to take extra care around our homes, although the risks associated with germ spread in unhygienic bathrooms are high, the solution to keeping them clean is simple,” a Harpic researcher said. Since other studies have shown that coronavirus can be found in feces, it’s become increasingly important to keep ourselves and others safe. Fireworks are pretty, but not when they come out of your toilet.
 

The latest in MRI fashion

Do you see that photo just below? Looks like something you could buy at the Lego store, right? Well, it’s not. Nor is it the proverbial thinking cap come to life.

(Did someone just say “come to life”? That reminds us of our favorite scene from Frosty the Snowman.)

Cydney Scott/Boston University

Anywaaay, about the photo. That funny-looking chapeau is what we in the science business call a metamaterial.

Nope, metamaterials have nothing to do with Facebook parent company Meta. We checked. According to a statement from Boston University, they are engineered structures “created from small unit cells that might be unspectacular alone, but when grouped together in a precise way, get new superpowers not found in nature.”

Superpowers, eh? Who doesn’t want superpowers? Even if they come with a funny hat.

The unit cells, known as resonators, are just plastic tubes wrapped in copper wiring, but when they are grouped in an array and precisely arranged into a helmet, they can channel the magnetic field of the MRI machine during a scan. In theory, that would create “crisper images that can be captured at twice the normal speed,” Xin Zhang, PhD, and her team at BU’s Photonics Center explained in the university statement.

In the future, the metamaterial device could “be used in conjunction with cheaper low-field MRI machines to make the technology more widely available, particularly in the developing world,” they suggested. Or, like so many other superpowers, it could fall into the wrong hands. Like those of Lex Luthor. Or Mark Zuckerberg. Or Frosty the Snowman.
 

The highway of the mind

How fast can you think on your feet? Well, according to a recently published study, it could be a legitimate measure of intelligence. Here’s the science.

Epifantsev/Thinkstock

Researchers from the University of Würzburg in Germany and Indiana University have suggested that a person’s intelligence score measures the ability, based on certain neuronal networks and their communication structures, to switch between resting state and different task states.

The investigators set up a study to observe almost 800 people while they completed seven tasks. By monitoring brain activity with functional magnetic resonance imaging, the teams found that subjects who had higher intelligence scores required “less adjustment when switching between different cognitive states,” they said in a separate statement.

It comes down to the network architecture of their brains.

Kirsten Hilger, PhD, head of the German group, described it in terms of highways. The resting state of the brain is normal traffic. It’s always moving. Holiday traffic is the task. The ability to handle the increased flow of commuters is a function of the highway infrastructure. The better the infrastructure, the higher the intelligence.

So the next time you’re stuck in traffic, think how efficient your brain would be with such a task. The quicker, the better.

Junk (germs) in the trunk

It’s been a long drive, and you’ve got a long way to go. You pull into a rest stop to use the bathroom and get some food. Quick, which order do you do those things in?

If you’re not a crazy person, you’d use the bathroom and then get your food. Who would bring food into a dirty bathroom? That’s kind of gross. Most people would take care of business, grab food, then get back in the car, eating along the way. Unfortunately, if you’re searching for a sanitary eating environment, your car may not actually be much better than that bathroom, according to new research from Aston University in Birmingham, England.

Robert Couse-Baker/PxHere

Let’s start off with the good news. The steering wheels of the five used cars that were swabbed for bacteria were pretty clean. Definitely cleaner than either of the toilet seats analyzed, likely thanks to increased usage of sanitizer, courtesy of the current pandemic. It’s easy to wipe down the steering wheel. Things break down, though, once we look elsewhere. The interiors of the five cars all contained just as much, if not more, bacteria than the toilet seats, with fecal matter commonly appearing on the driver’s seat.

The car interiors were less than sanitary, but they paled in comparison with the real winner here: the trunk. In each of the five cars, bacteria levels there far exceeded those in the toilets, and included everyone’s favorites – Escherichia coli and Staphylococcus aureus.

So, snacking on a bag of chips as you drive along is probably okay, but the food that popped out of its bag and spent the last 5 minutes rolling around the back? Perhaps less okay. You may want to wash it. Or burn it. Or torch the entire car for good measure like we’re about to do. Next time we’ll buy a car without poop in it.
 

Shut the lid when you flush

Maybe you’ve never thought about this, but it’s actually extremely important to shut the toilet lid when you flush. Just think of all those germs flying around from the force of the flush. Is your toothbrush anywhere near the toilet? Ew. Those pesky little bacteria and viruses are everywhere, and we know we can’t really escape them, but we should really do our best once we’re made aware of where to find them.

Marco Verch/ccnull.de/CC by 2.0

It seems like a no-brainer these days since we’ve all been really focused on cleanliness during the pandemic, but according to a poll in the United Kingdom, 55% of the 2,000 participants said they don’t put the lid down while flushing.

The OnePoll survey commissioned by Harpic, a company that makes toilet-cleaning products, also advised that toilet water isn’t even completely clean after flushed several times and can still be contaminated with many germs. Company researchers took specialized pictures of flushing toilets and they looked like tiny little Fourth of July fireworks shows, minus the sparklers. The pictures proved that droplets can go all over the place, including on bathroom users.

“There has never been a more important time to take extra care around our homes, although the risks associated with germ spread in unhygienic bathrooms are high, the solution to keeping them clean is simple,” a Harpic researcher said. Since other studies have shown that coronavirus can be found in feces, it’s become increasingly important to keep ourselves and others safe. Fireworks are pretty, but not when they come out of your toilet.
 

The latest in MRI fashion

Do you see that photo just below? Looks like something you could buy at the Lego store, right? Well, it’s not. Nor is it the proverbial thinking cap come to life.

(Did someone just say “come to life”? That reminds us of our favorite scene from Frosty the Snowman.)

Cydney Scott/Boston University

Anywaaay, about the photo. That funny-looking chapeau is what we in the science business call a metamaterial.

Nope, metamaterials have nothing to do with Facebook parent company Meta. We checked. According to a statement from Boston University, they are engineered structures “created from small unit cells that might be unspectacular alone, but when grouped together in a precise way, get new superpowers not found in nature.”

Superpowers, eh? Who doesn’t want superpowers? Even if they come with a funny hat.

The unit cells, known as resonators, are just plastic tubes wrapped in copper wiring, but when they are grouped in an array and precisely arranged into a helmet, they can channel the magnetic field of the MRI machine during a scan. In theory, that would create “crisper images that can be captured at twice the normal speed,” Xin Zhang, PhD, and her team at BU’s Photonics Center explained in the university statement.

In the future, the metamaterial device could “be used in conjunction with cheaper low-field MRI machines to make the technology more widely available, particularly in the developing world,” they suggested. Or, like so many other superpowers, it could fall into the wrong hands. Like those of Lex Luthor. Or Mark Zuckerberg. Or Frosty the Snowman.
 

The highway of the mind

How fast can you think on your feet? Well, according to a recently published study, it could be a legitimate measure of intelligence. Here’s the science.

Epifantsev/Thinkstock

Researchers from the University of Würzburg in Germany and Indiana University have suggested that a person’s intelligence score measures the ability, based on certain neuronal networks and their communication structures, to switch between resting state and different task states.

The investigators set up a study to observe almost 800 people while they completed seven tasks. By monitoring brain activity with functional magnetic resonance imaging, the teams found that subjects who had higher intelligence scores required “less adjustment when switching between different cognitive states,” they said in a separate statement.

It comes down to the network architecture of their brains.

Kirsten Hilger, PhD, head of the German group, described it in terms of highways. The resting state of the brain is normal traffic. It’s always moving. Holiday traffic is the task. The ability to handle the increased flow of commuters is a function of the highway infrastructure. The better the infrastructure, the higher the intelligence.

So the next time you’re stuck in traffic, think how efficient your brain would be with such a task. The quicker, the better.

Leonard Thompson’s father was so desperate to save his 14-year-old child from certain death due to diabetes that, on Jan. 11, 1922, he took him to Toronto General Hospital to receive what is arguably the first dose of insulin given to a human. From an anticipated life expectancy of weeks – months at best – Thompson lived for an astonishing further 13 years, eventually dying from pneumonia unrelated to diabetes.

By all accounts, the story is a centenary celebration of a remarkable discovery. Insulin has changed what was once a death sentence to a near-normal life expectancy for the millions of people with type 1 diabetes over the past 100 years.

National Museum of American History/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

But behind the life-changing success of the discovery – and the Nobel Prize that went with it – lies a tale blighted by disputed claims, twisted truths, and likely injustices between the scientists involved, as they each vied for an honored place in medical history.

Kersten Hall, PhD, honorary fellow, religion and history of science, at the University of Leeds, England, has scoured archives and personal records held at the University of Toronto to uncover the personal stories behind insulin’s discovery.

Despite the wranglings, Dr. Hall asserts: “There’s a distinction between the science and the scientists. Scientists are wonderfully flawed and complex human beings with all their glorious virtues and vices, as we all are. It’s no surprise that they get greedy, jealous, and insecure.”
 

At death’s door: Diabetes before the 1920s

Prior to insulin’s discovery in 1921, a diagnosis of type 1 diabetes placed someone at death’s door, with nothing but starvation – albeit a slightly slower death – to mitigate a fast-approaching departure from this world. At that time, most diabetes cases would have been type 1 diabetes because, with less obesogenic diets and shorter lifespans, people were much less likely to develop type 2 diabetes.

Nowadays, it is widely recognized that the prevalence of type 2 diabetes is on a steep upward curve, but so too is type 1 diabetes. In the United States alone, there are 1.5 million people diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, a number expected to rise to around 5 million by 2050, according to JDRF, the type 1 diabetes advocacy organization.

Interestingly, 100 years since the first treated patient, life-long insulin remains the only real effective therapy for patients with type 1 diabetes. Once pancreatic beta cells have ceased to function and insulin production has stopped, insulin replacement is the only way to keep blood glucose levels within the recommended range (A1c ≤ 48 mmol/mol [6.5%]), according to the UK National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE), as well as numerous diabetes organizations, including the American Diabetes Association (ADA).

Preliminary clinical trials have looked at stem cell transplantation, prematurely dubbed as a “cure” for type 1 diabetes, as an alternative to insulin therapy. The procedure involves transplanting stem cell–derived cells, which become functional beta cells when infused into humans, but requires immunosuppression, as reported by this news organization.

Today, the life expectancy of people with type 1 diabetes treated with insulin is close to those without the disease, although this is dependent on how tightly blood glucose is controlled. Some studies show life expectancy of those with type 1 diabetes is around 8-12 years lower than the general population but varies depending on where a person lives.

In some lower-income countries, many with type 1 diabetes still die prematurely either because they are undiagnosed or cannot access insulin. The high cost of insulin in the United States is well publicized, as featured in numerous articles by this news organization, and numerous patients in the United States have died because they cannot afford insulin.

Without insulin, young Leonard Thompson would have been lucky to have reached his 15th birthday.

“Such patients were cachectic and thin and would have weighed around 40-50 pounds (18-23 kg), which is very low for an older child. Survival was short and lasted weeks or months usually,” said Elizabeth Stephens, MD, an endocrinologist in Portland, Ore.

“The discovery of insulin was really a miracle because without it diabetes patients were facing certain death. Even nowadays, if people don’t get their insulin because they can’t afford it or for whatever reason, they can still die,” Dr. Stephens stressed.
 

Antidiabetic effects of pancreatic extract limited

Back in 1869, Paul Langerhans, MD, discovered pancreatic islet cells, or islets of Langerhans, as a medical student. Researchers tried to produce extracts that lowered blood glucose but they were too toxic for patient use.

In 1908, as detailed in his recent book, Insulin – the Crooked Timber, Dr. Hall also refers to the fact that a German researcher, Georg Zuelzer, MD, demonstrated in six patients that pancreatic extracts could reduce urinary levels of glucose and ketones, and that in one case, the treatment woke the patient from a coma. Dr. Zuelzer had purified the extract with alcohol but patients still experienced convulsions and coma; in fact, they were experiencing hypoglycemic shock, but Dr. Zuelzer had not identified it as such.

“He thought his preparation was full of impurities – and that’s the irony. He had in his hands an insulin prep that was so clean and so potent that it sent the test animals into hypoglycemic shock,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

By 1921, two young researchers, Frederick G. Banting, MD, a practicing medical doctor in Toronto, together with a final year physiology student at the University of Toronto, Charles H. Best, MD, DSc, collaborated on the instruction of Dr. Best’s superior, John James Rickard Macleod, MBChB, professor of physiology at the University of Toronto, to make pancreatic extracts, first from dogs and then from cattle.

University of Toronto/public domain

Over the months prior to treating Thompson, working together in the laboratory, Dr. Banting and Dr. Best prepared the pancreatic extract from cattle and tested it on dogs with diabetes.

Then, in what amounted to a phase 1 trial of its day, with an “n of one,” a frail and close-to-death Thompson was given 15 cc of pancreatic extract at Toronto General Hospital in January 1922. His blood glucose level dropped by 25%, but unfortunately, his body still produced ketones, indicating the antidiabetic effect was limited. He also experienced an adverse reaction at the injection site with an accumulation of abscesses.

So despite success with isolating the extract and administering it to Thompson, the product remained tainted with impurities.

At this point, colleague James Collip, MD, PhD, came to the rescue. He used his skills as a biochemist to purify the pancreatic extract enough to eliminate impurities.

When Thompson was treated 2 weeks later with the purified extract, he experienced a more positive outcome. Gone was the injection site reaction, gone were the high blood glucose levels, and Thompson “became brighter, more active, looked better, and said he felt stronger,” according to a publication describing the treatment.

Dr. Collip also determined that by over-purifying the product, the animals he experimented on could overreact and experience convulsions, coma, and death due to hypoglycemia from too much insulin.
 

Fighting talk

Recalling an excerpt from Dr. Banting’s diary, Dr. Hall said that Dr. Banting had a mercurial temper and testified to his loss of patience with Dr. Collip when the chemist refused to share his formula of purification. His diary reads: “I grabbed him in one hand by the overcoat ... and almost lifting him I sat him down hard on the chair ... I remember telling him that it was a good job he was so much smaller – otherwise I would ‘knock hell out of him.’ ”

According to Dr. Hall, in 1923, when Dr. Banting and Dr. Macleod were jointly awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine, Dr. Best resented being excluded, and despite Dr. Banting’s sharing half his prize money with Dr. Best, animosity prevailed.

At one point, before leaving on a plane for a wartime mission to the United Kingdom, Dr. Banting noted that if he didn’t make it back alive, “and they give my [professorial] chair to that son-of-a-bitch Best, I’ll never rest in my grave.” In a cruel twist of fate, Dr. Banting’s plane crashed and all aboard died.

The Nobel Prize had also been a source of rivalry between Dr. Banting and his boss, Dr. Macleod. In late 1921, while presenting the findings from animal models at the American Physiological Society conference, Dr. Banting’s nerves got the better of him and Dr. Macleod took over at the podium to finish the talk. Dr. Banting perceived this as his boss stealing the limelight.

University of Toronto/public domain

The Nobel Prize or a poisoned chalice?

Awarded annually for physics, chemistry, medicine/physiology, literature, peace, and economics, Nobel Prizes are usually considered the holy grail of achievement. In 1895, funds for the prizes were bequeathed by Alfred Nobel in his last will and testament, with each prize worth around $40,000 at the time (approximately $1,000,000 in today’s value).

Writing in 2001 in the journal Diabetes Voice, Professor Sir George Alberti, DPhil, BM BCh, former president of the UK Royal College of Physicians, summarized the burden that accompanies the Nobel Prize: “I personally believe that such prizes and awards do more harm than good and should be abolished. Many a scientist has gone to their grave feeling deeply aggrieved because they were not awarded a Nobel Prize.”

Such high stakes surround the prize that, in the case of insulin, the course of its discovery meant courtesies and truth were swept aside in hot pursuit of fame. After Dr. Macleod died in 1935 and Dr. Banting died in 1941, Dr. Best took the opportunity to try to revise history. There was the small obstacle of Dr. Collip, but Dr. Best managed to play down Dr. Collip’s contribution by focusing on the eureka moment as being the first insulin dose administered, despite the fact that a more complete recovery without side effects was later achieved only with Dr. Collip’s help.

Despite exclusion from the Nobel Prize, Dr. Best nevertheless became recognized as the “go-to-guy” for the discovery of insulin, said Dr. Hall. When Dr. Best spoke about the discovery of insulin at the New York Diabetes Association meeting in 1946, he was introduced as a speaker whose reputation was already so great that he did “not require much of an introduction.”

“And when a new research institute was opened in Toronto in 1953, it was named in his honor. The opening address, by Sir Henry Dale of the UK Medical Research Council, sang Best’s praises to the rafters, much to the disgruntlement of Best’s former colleague, James Collip, who was sitting in the audience,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

Both Dr. Hall and Dr. Stephens live with type 1 diabetes and have benefited from the efforts of Dr. Banting, Dr. Best, Dr. Collip, Dr. Zuelzer, and Dr. Macleod.

“The discovery of insulin was a miracle, it has allowed people to survive,” said Dr. Stephens. “Few medicines can reverse a death sentence like insulin can. It’s easy to forget how it was when insulin wasn’t there – and it wasn’t that long ago.”

Dr. Hall reflects that scientific progress and discovery are often portrayed as being the result of towering geniuses standing on each other’s shoulders.

“But I think that when German philosopher Immanuel Kant remarked that ‘Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing can ever be made,’ he offered us a much more accurate picture of how science works. And I think that there’s perhaps no more powerful example of this than the story of insulin,” he said.

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

Leonard Thompson’s father was so desperate to save his 14-year-old child from certain death due to diabetes that, on Jan. 11, 1922, he took him to Toronto General Hospital to receive what is arguably the first dose of insulin given to a human. From an anticipated life expectancy of weeks – months at best – Thompson lived for an astonishing further 13 years, eventually dying from pneumonia unrelated to diabetes.

By all accounts, the story is a centenary celebration of a remarkable discovery. Insulin has changed what was once a death sentence to a near-normal life expectancy for the millions of people with type 1 diabetes over the past 100 years.

National Museum of American History/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

But behind the life-changing success of the discovery – and the Nobel Prize that went with it – lies a tale blighted by disputed claims, twisted truths, and likely injustices between the scientists involved, as they each vied for an honored place in medical history.

Kersten Hall, PhD, honorary fellow, religion and history of science, at the University of Leeds, England, has scoured archives and personal records held at the University of Toronto to uncover the personal stories behind insulin’s discovery.

Despite the wranglings, Dr. Hall asserts: “There’s a distinction between the science and the scientists. Scientists are wonderfully flawed and complex human beings with all their glorious virtues and vices, as we all are. It’s no surprise that they get greedy, jealous, and insecure.”
 

At death’s door: Diabetes before the 1920s

Prior to insulin’s discovery in 1921, a diagnosis of type 1 diabetes placed someone at death’s door, with nothing but starvation – albeit a slightly slower death – to mitigate a fast-approaching departure from this world. At that time, most diabetes cases would have been type 1 diabetes because, with less obesogenic diets and shorter lifespans, people were much less likely to develop type 2 diabetes.

Nowadays, it is widely recognized that the prevalence of type 2 diabetes is on a steep upward curve, but so too is type 1 diabetes. In the United States alone, there are 1.5 million people diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, a number expected to rise to around 5 million by 2050, according to JDRF, the type 1 diabetes advocacy organization.

Interestingly, 100 years since the first treated patient, life-long insulin remains the only real effective therapy for patients with type 1 diabetes. Once pancreatic beta cells have ceased to function and insulin production has stopped, insulin replacement is the only way to keep blood glucose levels within the recommended range (A1c ≤ 48 mmol/mol [6.5%]), according to the UK National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE), as well as numerous diabetes organizations, including the American Diabetes Association (ADA).

Preliminary clinical trials have looked at stem cell transplantation, prematurely dubbed as a “cure” for type 1 diabetes, as an alternative to insulin therapy. The procedure involves transplanting stem cell–derived cells, which become functional beta cells when infused into humans, but requires immunosuppression, as reported by this news organization.

Today, the life expectancy of people with type 1 diabetes treated with insulin is close to those without the disease, although this is dependent on how tightly blood glucose is controlled. Some studies show life expectancy of those with type 1 diabetes is around 8-12 years lower than the general population but varies depending on where a person lives.

In some lower-income countries, many with type 1 diabetes still die prematurely either because they are undiagnosed or cannot access insulin. The high cost of insulin in the United States is well publicized, as featured in numerous articles by this news organization, and numerous patients in the United States have died because they cannot afford insulin.

Without insulin, young Leonard Thompson would have been lucky to have reached his 15th birthday.

“Such patients were cachectic and thin and would have weighed around 40-50 pounds (18-23 kg), which is very low for an older child. Survival was short and lasted weeks or months usually,” said Elizabeth Stephens, MD, an endocrinologist in Portland, Ore.

“The discovery of insulin was really a miracle because without it diabetes patients were facing certain death. Even nowadays, if people don’t get their insulin because they can’t afford it or for whatever reason, they can still die,” Dr. Stephens stressed.
 

Antidiabetic effects of pancreatic extract limited

Back in 1869, Paul Langerhans, MD, discovered pancreatic islet cells, or islets of Langerhans, as a medical student. Researchers tried to produce extracts that lowered blood glucose but they were too toxic for patient use.

In 1908, as detailed in his recent book, Insulin – the Crooked Timber, Dr. Hall also refers to the fact that a German researcher, Georg Zuelzer, MD, demonstrated in six patients that pancreatic extracts could reduce urinary levels of glucose and ketones, and that in one case, the treatment woke the patient from a coma. Dr. Zuelzer had purified the extract with alcohol but patients still experienced convulsions and coma; in fact, they were experiencing hypoglycemic shock, but Dr. Zuelzer had not identified it as such.

“He thought his preparation was full of impurities – and that’s the irony. He had in his hands an insulin prep that was so clean and so potent that it sent the test animals into hypoglycemic shock,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

By 1921, two young researchers, Frederick G. Banting, MD, a practicing medical doctor in Toronto, together with a final year physiology student at the University of Toronto, Charles H. Best, MD, DSc, collaborated on the instruction of Dr. Best’s superior, John James Rickard Macleod, MBChB, professor of physiology at the University of Toronto, to make pancreatic extracts, first from dogs and then from cattle.

University of Toronto/public domain

Over the months prior to treating Thompson, working together in the laboratory, Dr. Banting and Dr. Best prepared the pancreatic extract from cattle and tested it on dogs with diabetes.

Then, in what amounted to a phase 1 trial of its day, with an “n of one,” a frail and close-to-death Thompson was given 15 cc of pancreatic extract at Toronto General Hospital in January 1922. His blood glucose level dropped by 25%, but unfortunately, his body still produced ketones, indicating the antidiabetic effect was limited. He also experienced an adverse reaction at the injection site with an accumulation of abscesses.

So despite success with isolating the extract and administering it to Thompson, the product remained tainted with impurities.

At this point, colleague James Collip, MD, PhD, came to the rescue. He used his skills as a biochemist to purify the pancreatic extract enough to eliminate impurities.

When Thompson was treated 2 weeks later with the purified extract, he experienced a more positive outcome. Gone was the injection site reaction, gone were the high blood glucose levels, and Thompson “became brighter, more active, looked better, and said he felt stronger,” according to a publication describing the treatment.

Dr. Collip also determined that by over-purifying the product, the animals he experimented on could overreact and experience convulsions, coma, and death due to hypoglycemia from too much insulin.
 

Fighting talk

Recalling an excerpt from Dr. Banting’s diary, Dr. Hall said that Dr. Banting had a mercurial temper and testified to his loss of patience with Dr. Collip when the chemist refused to share his formula of purification. His diary reads: “I grabbed him in one hand by the overcoat ... and almost lifting him I sat him down hard on the chair ... I remember telling him that it was a good job he was so much smaller – otherwise I would ‘knock hell out of him.’ ”

According to Dr. Hall, in 1923, when Dr. Banting and Dr. Macleod were jointly awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine, Dr. Best resented being excluded, and despite Dr. Banting’s sharing half his prize money with Dr. Best, animosity prevailed.

At one point, before leaving on a plane for a wartime mission to the United Kingdom, Dr. Banting noted that if he didn’t make it back alive, “and they give my [professorial] chair to that son-of-a-bitch Best, I’ll never rest in my grave.” In a cruel twist of fate, Dr. Banting’s plane crashed and all aboard died.

The Nobel Prize had also been a source of rivalry between Dr. Banting and his boss, Dr. Macleod. In late 1921, while presenting the findings from animal models at the American Physiological Society conference, Dr. Banting’s nerves got the better of him and Dr. Macleod took over at the podium to finish the talk. Dr. Banting perceived this as his boss stealing the limelight.

University of Toronto/public domain

The Nobel Prize or a poisoned chalice?

Awarded annually for physics, chemistry, medicine/physiology, literature, peace, and economics, Nobel Prizes are usually considered the holy grail of achievement. In 1895, funds for the prizes were bequeathed by Alfred Nobel in his last will and testament, with each prize worth around $40,000 at the time (approximately $1,000,000 in today’s value).

Writing in 2001 in the journal Diabetes Voice, Professor Sir George Alberti, DPhil, BM BCh, former president of the UK Royal College of Physicians, summarized the burden that accompanies the Nobel Prize: “I personally believe that such prizes and awards do more harm than good and should be abolished. Many a scientist has gone to their grave feeling deeply aggrieved because they were not awarded a Nobel Prize.”

Such high stakes surround the prize that, in the case of insulin, the course of its discovery meant courtesies and truth were swept aside in hot pursuit of fame. After Dr. Macleod died in 1935 and Dr. Banting died in 1941, Dr. Best took the opportunity to try to revise history. There was the small obstacle of Dr. Collip, but Dr. Best managed to play down Dr. Collip’s contribution by focusing on the eureka moment as being the first insulin dose administered, despite the fact that a more complete recovery without side effects was later achieved only with Dr. Collip’s help.

Despite exclusion from the Nobel Prize, Dr. Best nevertheless became recognized as the “go-to-guy” for the discovery of insulin, said Dr. Hall. When Dr. Best spoke about the discovery of insulin at the New York Diabetes Association meeting in 1946, he was introduced as a speaker whose reputation was already so great that he did “not require much of an introduction.”

“And when a new research institute was opened in Toronto in 1953, it was named in his honor. The opening address, by Sir Henry Dale of the UK Medical Research Council, sang Best’s praises to the rafters, much to the disgruntlement of Best’s former colleague, James Collip, who was sitting in the audience,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

Both Dr. Hall and Dr. Stephens live with type 1 diabetes and have benefited from the efforts of Dr. Banting, Dr. Best, Dr. Collip, Dr. Zuelzer, and Dr. Macleod.

“The discovery of insulin was a miracle, it has allowed people to survive,” said Dr. Stephens. “Few medicines can reverse a death sentence like insulin can. It’s easy to forget how it was when insulin wasn’t there – and it wasn’t that long ago.”

Dr. Hall reflects that scientific progress and discovery are often portrayed as being the result of towering geniuses standing on each other’s shoulders.

“But I think that when German philosopher Immanuel Kant remarked that ‘Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing can ever be made,’ he offered us a much more accurate picture of how science works. And I think that there’s perhaps no more powerful example of this than the story of insulin,” he said.

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

Leonard Thompson’s father was so desperate to save his 14-year-old child from certain death due to diabetes that, on Jan. 11, 1922, he took him to Toronto General Hospital to receive what is arguably the first dose of insulin given to a human. From an anticipated life expectancy of weeks – months at best – Thompson lived for an astonishing further 13 years, eventually dying from pneumonia unrelated to diabetes.

By all accounts, the story is a centenary celebration of a remarkable discovery. Insulin has changed what was once a death sentence to a near-normal life expectancy for the millions of people with type 1 diabetes over the past 100 years.

National Museum of American History/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

But behind the life-changing success of the discovery – and the Nobel Prize that went with it – lies a tale blighted by disputed claims, twisted truths, and likely injustices between the scientists involved, as they each vied for an honored place in medical history.

Kersten Hall, PhD, honorary fellow, religion and history of science, at the University of Leeds, England, has scoured archives and personal records held at the University of Toronto to uncover the personal stories behind insulin’s discovery.

Despite the wranglings, Dr. Hall asserts: “There’s a distinction between the science and the scientists. Scientists are wonderfully flawed and complex human beings with all their glorious virtues and vices, as we all are. It’s no surprise that they get greedy, jealous, and insecure.”
 

At death’s door: Diabetes before the 1920s

Prior to insulin’s discovery in 1921, a diagnosis of type 1 diabetes placed someone at death’s door, with nothing but starvation – albeit a slightly slower death – to mitigate a fast-approaching departure from this world. At that time, most diabetes cases would have been type 1 diabetes because, with less obesogenic diets and shorter lifespans, people were much less likely to develop type 2 diabetes.

Nowadays, it is widely recognized that the prevalence of type 2 diabetes is on a steep upward curve, but so too is type 1 diabetes. In the United States alone, there are 1.5 million people diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, a number expected to rise to around 5 million by 2050, according to JDRF, the type 1 diabetes advocacy organization.

Interestingly, 100 years since the first treated patient, life-long insulin remains the only real effective therapy for patients with type 1 diabetes. Once pancreatic beta cells have ceased to function and insulin production has stopped, insulin replacement is the only way to keep blood glucose levels within the recommended range (A1c ≤ 48 mmol/mol [6.5%]), according to the UK National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE), as well as numerous diabetes organizations, including the American Diabetes Association (ADA).

Preliminary clinical trials have looked at stem cell transplantation, prematurely dubbed as a “cure” for type 1 diabetes, as an alternative to insulin therapy. The procedure involves transplanting stem cell–derived cells, which become functional beta cells when infused into humans, but requires immunosuppression, as reported by this news organization.

Today, the life expectancy of people with type 1 diabetes treated with insulin is close to those without the disease, although this is dependent on how tightly blood glucose is controlled. Some studies show life expectancy of those with type 1 diabetes is around 8-12 years lower than the general population but varies depending on where a person lives.

In some lower-income countries, many with type 1 diabetes still die prematurely either because they are undiagnosed or cannot access insulin. The high cost of insulin in the United States is well publicized, as featured in numerous articles by this news organization, and numerous patients in the United States have died because they cannot afford insulin.

Without insulin, young Leonard Thompson would have been lucky to have reached his 15th birthday.

“Such patients were cachectic and thin and would have weighed around 40-50 pounds (18-23 kg), which is very low for an older child. Survival was short and lasted weeks or months usually,” said Elizabeth Stephens, MD, an endocrinologist in Portland, Ore.

“The discovery of insulin was really a miracle because without it diabetes patients were facing certain death. Even nowadays, if people don’t get their insulin because they can’t afford it or for whatever reason, they can still die,” Dr. Stephens stressed.
 

Antidiabetic effects of pancreatic extract limited

Back in 1869, Paul Langerhans, MD, discovered pancreatic islet cells, or islets of Langerhans, as a medical student. Researchers tried to produce extracts that lowered blood glucose but they were too toxic for patient use.

In 1908, as detailed in his recent book, Insulin – the Crooked Timber, Dr. Hall also refers to the fact that a German researcher, Georg Zuelzer, MD, demonstrated in six patients that pancreatic extracts could reduce urinary levels of glucose and ketones, and that in one case, the treatment woke the patient from a coma. Dr. Zuelzer had purified the extract with alcohol but patients still experienced convulsions and coma; in fact, they were experiencing hypoglycemic shock, but Dr. Zuelzer had not identified it as such.

“He thought his preparation was full of impurities – and that’s the irony. He had in his hands an insulin prep that was so clean and so potent that it sent the test animals into hypoglycemic shock,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

By 1921, two young researchers, Frederick G. Banting, MD, a practicing medical doctor in Toronto, together with a final year physiology student at the University of Toronto, Charles H. Best, MD, DSc, collaborated on the instruction of Dr. Best’s superior, John James Rickard Macleod, MBChB, professor of physiology at the University of Toronto, to make pancreatic extracts, first from dogs and then from cattle.

University of Toronto/public domain

Over the months prior to treating Thompson, working together in the laboratory, Dr. Banting and Dr. Best prepared the pancreatic extract from cattle and tested it on dogs with diabetes.

Then, in what amounted to a phase 1 trial of its day, with an “n of one,” a frail and close-to-death Thompson was given 15 cc of pancreatic extract at Toronto General Hospital in January 1922. His blood glucose level dropped by 25%, but unfortunately, his body still produced ketones, indicating the antidiabetic effect was limited. He also experienced an adverse reaction at the injection site with an accumulation of abscesses.

So despite success with isolating the extract and administering it to Thompson, the product remained tainted with impurities.

At this point, colleague James Collip, MD, PhD, came to the rescue. He used his skills as a biochemist to purify the pancreatic extract enough to eliminate impurities.

When Thompson was treated 2 weeks later with the purified extract, he experienced a more positive outcome. Gone was the injection site reaction, gone were the high blood glucose levels, and Thompson “became brighter, more active, looked better, and said he felt stronger,” according to a publication describing the treatment.

Dr. Collip also determined that by over-purifying the product, the animals he experimented on could overreact and experience convulsions, coma, and death due to hypoglycemia from too much insulin.
 

Fighting talk

Recalling an excerpt from Dr. Banting’s diary, Dr. Hall said that Dr. Banting had a mercurial temper and testified to his loss of patience with Dr. Collip when the chemist refused to share his formula of purification. His diary reads: “I grabbed him in one hand by the overcoat ... and almost lifting him I sat him down hard on the chair ... I remember telling him that it was a good job he was so much smaller – otherwise I would ‘knock hell out of him.’ ”

According to Dr. Hall, in 1923, when Dr. Banting and Dr. Macleod were jointly awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine, Dr. Best resented being excluded, and despite Dr. Banting’s sharing half his prize money with Dr. Best, animosity prevailed.

At one point, before leaving on a plane for a wartime mission to the United Kingdom, Dr. Banting noted that if he didn’t make it back alive, “and they give my [professorial] chair to that son-of-a-bitch Best, I’ll never rest in my grave.” In a cruel twist of fate, Dr. Banting’s plane crashed and all aboard died.

The Nobel Prize had also been a source of rivalry between Dr. Banting and his boss, Dr. Macleod. In late 1921, while presenting the findings from animal models at the American Physiological Society conference, Dr. Banting’s nerves got the better of him and Dr. Macleod took over at the podium to finish the talk. Dr. Banting perceived this as his boss stealing the limelight.

University of Toronto/public domain

The Nobel Prize or a poisoned chalice?

Awarded annually for physics, chemistry, medicine/physiology, literature, peace, and economics, Nobel Prizes are usually considered the holy grail of achievement. In 1895, funds for the prizes were bequeathed by Alfred Nobel in his last will and testament, with each prize worth around $40,000 at the time (approximately $1,000,000 in today’s value).

Writing in 2001 in the journal Diabetes Voice, Professor Sir George Alberti, DPhil, BM BCh, former president of the UK Royal College of Physicians, summarized the burden that accompanies the Nobel Prize: “I personally believe that such prizes and awards do more harm than good and should be abolished. Many a scientist has gone to their grave feeling deeply aggrieved because they were not awarded a Nobel Prize.”

Such high stakes surround the prize that, in the case of insulin, the course of its discovery meant courtesies and truth were swept aside in hot pursuit of fame. After Dr. Macleod died in 1935 and Dr. Banting died in 1941, Dr. Best took the opportunity to try to revise history. There was the small obstacle of Dr. Collip, but Dr. Best managed to play down Dr. Collip’s contribution by focusing on the eureka moment as being the first insulin dose administered, despite the fact that a more complete recovery without side effects was later achieved only with Dr. Collip’s help.

Despite exclusion from the Nobel Prize, Dr. Best nevertheless became recognized as the “go-to-guy” for the discovery of insulin, said Dr. Hall. When Dr. Best spoke about the discovery of insulin at the New York Diabetes Association meeting in 1946, he was introduced as a speaker whose reputation was already so great that he did “not require much of an introduction.”

“And when a new research institute was opened in Toronto in 1953, it was named in his honor. The opening address, by Sir Henry Dale of the UK Medical Research Council, sang Best’s praises to the rafters, much to the disgruntlement of Best’s former colleague, James Collip, who was sitting in the audience,” Dr. Hall pointed out.

Both Dr. Hall and Dr. Stephens live with type 1 diabetes and have benefited from the efforts of Dr. Banting, Dr. Best, Dr. Collip, Dr. Zuelzer, and Dr. Macleod.

“The discovery of insulin was a miracle, it has allowed people to survive,” said Dr. Stephens. “Few medicines can reverse a death sentence like insulin can. It’s easy to forget how it was when insulin wasn’t there – and it wasn’t that long ago.”

Dr. Hall reflects that scientific progress and discovery are often portrayed as being the result of towering geniuses standing on each other’s shoulders.

“But I think that when German philosopher Immanuel Kant remarked that ‘Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing can ever be made,’ he offered us a much more accurate picture of how science works. And I think that there’s perhaps no more powerful example of this than the story of insulin,” he said.

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

Tennessee’s Board of Medical Examiners unanimously adopted in September 2021 a statement that said doctors spreading COVID misinformation – such as suggesting that vaccines contain microchips – could jeopardize their license to practice.

“I’m very glad that we’re taking this step,” Dr. Stephen Loyd, MD, the panel’s vice president, said at the time. “If you’re spreading this willful misinformation, for me it’s going to be really hard to do anything other than put you on probation or take your license for a year. There has to be a message sent for this. It’s not okay.”

The board’s statement was posted on a government website.

But before any physicians could be reprimanded for spreading falsehoods about COVID-19 vaccines or treatments, Republican lawmakers threatened to disband the medical board.

The growing tension in Tennessee between conservative lawmakers and the state’s medical board may be the most prominent example in the country. But the Federation of State Medical Boards, which created the language adopted by at least 15 state boards, is tracking legislation introduced by Republicans in at least 14 states that would restrict a medical board’s authority to discipline doctors for their advice on COVID.

Humayun Chaudhry, DO, the federation’s CEO, called it “an unwelcome trend.” The nonprofit association, based in Euless, Tex., said the statement is merely a COVID-specific restatement of an existing rule: that doctors who engage in behavior that puts patients at risk could face disciplinary action.

Although doctors have leeway to decide which treatments to provide, the medical boards that oversee them have broad authority over licensing. Often, doctors are investigated for violating guidelines on prescribing high-powered drugs. But physicians are sometimes punished for other “unprofessional conduct.” In 2013, Tennessee’s board fined U.S. Rep. Scott DesJarlais for separately having sexual relations with two female patients more than a decade earlier.

Still, stopping doctors from sharing unsound medical advice has proved challenging. Even defining misinformation has been difficult. And during the pandemic, resistance from some state legislatures is complicating the effort.

A relatively small group of physicians peddle COVID misinformation, but many of them associate with America’s Frontline Doctors. Its founder, Simone Gold, MD, has claimed patients are dying from COVID treatments, not the virus itself. Sherri Tenpenny, DO, said in a legislative hearing in Ohio that the COVID vaccine could magnetize patients. Stella Immanuel, MD, has pushed hydroxychloroquine as a COVID cure in Texas, although clinical trials showed that it had no benefit. None of them agreed to requests for comment.

The Texas Medical Board fined Dr. Immanuel $500 for not informing a patient of the risks associated with using hydroxychloroquine as an off-label COVID treatment.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. This story is part of a partnership that includes Nashville Public Radio, NPR, and KHN.

Tennessee’s Board of Medical Examiners unanimously adopted in September 2021 a statement that said doctors spreading COVID misinformation – such as suggesting that vaccines contain microchips – could jeopardize their license to practice.

“I’m very glad that we’re taking this step,” Dr. Stephen Loyd, MD, the panel’s vice president, said at the time. “If you’re spreading this willful misinformation, for me it’s going to be really hard to do anything other than put you on probation or take your license for a year. There has to be a message sent for this. It’s not okay.”

The board’s statement was posted on a government website.

But before any physicians could be reprimanded for spreading falsehoods about COVID-19 vaccines or treatments, Republican lawmakers threatened to disband the medical board.

The growing tension in Tennessee between conservative lawmakers and the state’s medical board may be the most prominent example in the country. But the Federation of State Medical Boards, which created the language adopted by at least 15 state boards, is tracking legislation introduced by Republicans in at least 14 states that would restrict a medical board’s authority to discipline doctors for their advice on COVID.

Humayun Chaudhry, DO, the federation’s CEO, called it “an unwelcome trend.” The nonprofit association, based in Euless, Tex., said the statement is merely a COVID-specific restatement of an existing rule: that doctors who engage in behavior that puts patients at risk could face disciplinary action.

Although doctors have leeway to decide which treatments to provide, the medical boards that oversee them have broad authority over licensing. Often, doctors are investigated for violating guidelines on prescribing high-powered drugs. But physicians are sometimes punished for other “unprofessional conduct.” In 2013, Tennessee’s board fined U.S. Rep. Scott DesJarlais for separately having sexual relations with two female patients more than a decade earlier.

Still, stopping doctors from sharing unsound medical advice has proved challenging. Even defining misinformation has been difficult. And during the pandemic, resistance from some state legislatures is complicating the effort.

A relatively small group of physicians peddle COVID misinformation, but many of them associate with America’s Frontline Doctors. Its founder, Simone Gold, MD, has claimed patients are dying from COVID treatments, not the virus itself. Sherri Tenpenny, DO, said in a legislative hearing in Ohio that the COVID vaccine could magnetize patients. Stella Immanuel, MD, has pushed hydroxychloroquine as a COVID cure in Texas, although clinical trials showed that it had no benefit. None of them agreed to requests for comment.

The Texas Medical Board fined Dr. Immanuel $500 for not informing a patient of the risks associated with using hydroxychloroquine as an off-label COVID treatment.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. This story is part of a partnership that includes Nashville Public Radio, NPR, and KHN.

Tennessee’s Board of Medical Examiners unanimously adopted in September 2021 a statement that said doctors spreading COVID misinformation – such as suggesting that vaccines contain microchips – could jeopardize their license to practice.

“I’m very glad that we’re taking this step,” Dr. Stephen Loyd, MD, the panel’s vice president, said at the time. “If you’re spreading this willful misinformation, for me it’s going to be really hard to do anything other than put you on probation or take your license for a year. There has to be a message sent for this. It’s not okay.”

The board’s statement was posted on a government website.

But before any physicians could be reprimanded for spreading falsehoods about COVID-19 vaccines or treatments, Republican lawmakers threatened to disband the medical board.

The growing tension in Tennessee between conservative lawmakers and the state’s medical board may be the most prominent example in the country. But the Federation of State Medical Boards, which created the language adopted by at least 15 state boards, is tracking legislation introduced by Republicans in at least 14 states that would restrict a medical board’s authority to discipline doctors for their advice on COVID.

Humayun Chaudhry, DO, the federation’s CEO, called it “an unwelcome trend.” The nonprofit association, based in Euless, Tex., said the statement is merely a COVID-specific restatement of an existing rule: that doctors who engage in behavior that puts patients at risk could face disciplinary action.

Although doctors have leeway to decide which treatments to provide, the medical boards that oversee them have broad authority over licensing. Often, doctors are investigated for violating guidelines on prescribing high-powered drugs. But physicians are sometimes punished for other “unprofessional conduct.” In 2013, Tennessee’s board fined U.S. Rep. Scott DesJarlais for separately having sexual relations with two female patients more than a decade earlier.

Still, stopping doctors from sharing unsound medical advice has proved challenging. Even defining misinformation has been difficult. And during the pandemic, resistance from some state legislatures is complicating the effort.

A relatively small group of physicians peddle COVID misinformation, but many of them associate with America’s Frontline Doctors. Its founder, Simone Gold, MD, has claimed patients are dying from COVID treatments, not the virus itself. Sherri Tenpenny, DO, said in a legislative hearing in Ohio that the COVID vaccine could magnetize patients. Stella Immanuel, MD, has pushed hydroxychloroquine as a COVID cure in Texas, although clinical trials showed that it had no benefit. None of them agreed to requests for comment.

The Texas Medical Board fined Dr. Immanuel $500 for not informing a patient of the risks associated with using hydroxychloroquine as an off-label COVID treatment.

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation. This story is part of a partnership that includes Nashville Public Radio, NPR, and KHN.

At the center of the emerging science on the unintended consequences of daily long-term use of marijuana lies a paradox.

For years, medical marijuana has been used to ease nausea from cancer chemotherapy and GI conditions. Now, with greater legalization comes growing awareness that chronic use of marijuana – also known as cannabis – can trigger a condition where, ironically, a person has hard-to-control vomiting and nausea.

Doug Menuez/thinkstock

Some people with the disorder, known as “cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome,” also report crippling belly pain.

Linda can relate. The 33-year-old Oregon resident, who asked to remain anonymous to protect her privacy, refers to a medieval spiky metal ball on a chain when describing the pain.

“Picture a mace inside your stomach, pushing up inside your chest and, at the same time, exploding out,” she said.

To seek relief, she gets down on her knees, adopts a child’s yoga pose, and runs hot water in the bathroom for hours on end, a trick many with the disorder says has provided relief. She also occasionally goes outside and tries walking it off.

“I would just wander around my neighborhood, a lot of times at like 4 or 5 in the morning,” she said. “The fresh air helps a little bit. I just keep walking down the street, take about 10 steps, stop, vomit – walk a little bit more, stop, vomit.”

Her first experience with the disorder began in the middle of one night in 2017 while she was at a conference in Las Vegas.

“We went out to eat the night before, and I woke up about 4 in the morning with just the most intense pain I’ve ever had,” she said. “I found myself in a really hot shower in between throwing up everything and trying to say get some water down. I was sharing an Airbnb with my colleagues, so it was less than ideal.”

Many people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome find relief from hot baths or showers. Researchers believe that hot water helps because temperature sensors in the skin send signals to the brain that can help ease the symptoms, at least for a while.

The problem is that people with this syndrome “can’t live in the water,” said emergency doctor and medical cannabis expert Leigh Vinocur, MD.

Fast-forward 6 months to another event in Boulder, Colo. Again, Linda woke up and could not stop vomiting.

“I was not feeling any better. Showering wasn’t helping. I ended up in the hospital,” she said.

She received opioids for her pain. But neither she nor the ED staff were quite sure what was happening. Her discharge paperwork read “cannabis allergy.”

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome “shatters that image of cannabis only being a good thing. It’s a bold statement, but, you know, once you start to think about it, it’s like a little too much of anything isn’t good,” Linda said.

Experts suggest greater awareness is needed to identify this syndrome earlier, by both cannabinoid users and doctors. The bouts of vomiting, in particular, can get so severe that people can end up hospitalized with dehydration, electrolyte disorders, and weight loss.

The severe electrolyte imbalances “can really be life-threatening,” said David Johnson, MD, a professor of medicine and chief of gastroenterology at Eastern Virginia Medical School, Norfolk.

“By the time they come into emergency care, they’re in bad shape,” Dr. Vinocur agreed. “Many try to ignore it, but they continue to vomit.”
 

Genetic risk factors?

One mystery is why some regular marijuana users get this syndrome while others do not.

“I can say that not everybody gets this, thank goodness,” said Ethan Russo, MD. “But there has to be a reason that certain people are susceptible and others are not.”

Interestingly, a new study from Dr. Russo and colleagues suggests that genes play a role. They identified five genetic changes that could make a chronic marijuana user more likely to have cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome in a study published July 5, 2021, in the journal Cannabis and Cannabinoid Research.

They compared 28 people with the disorder with 12 other high-frequency marijuana users without these symptoms.

The results are not final but could help guide future research, Dr. Russo said.

“What we’ve discovered – and it was far more than we expected – is that there’s a lot more to this than a hypersensitivity to cannabis,” said Dr. Russo, a neurologist and founder/CEO of CReDO Science, a firm that promotes cannabis research and develops commercial products.

Also, he said, those affected by cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome could be at higher risk for other conditions, such as addiction to alcohol or other substances, dementia, diabetes, and heart disease.

“Most people with [cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome] are going to be younger,” he said. “What we’ve demonstrated is there is a risk for more serious problems for decades to come. So someone who has these symptoms really deserves a look at this genetic screening.”
 

Battling disbelief

Getting back to the paradox, many users don’t believe marijuana can trigger serious vomiting and nausea because of its reputation for doing the opposite.

“Folks that have this are just uniquely resistant to the concept that cannabis is actually the problem and not the solution,” Dr. Russo said.

“It’s kind of counterintuitive because people think: ‘Oh, cannabis helps with nausea,’ so they use more of it,” said Dr. Vinocur, who is also a spokesperson for the American College of Emergency Physicians and runs a medical cannabis practice.

Most kinds of marijuana act in this way – doing opposite things at different doses. Once a certain threshold is passed, people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome are “just uniquely susceptible and really can’t tolerate any significant amount of THC,” Dr. Russo said, referring to tetrahydrocannabinol, the substance that gets marijuana users high.

Once diagnosed, quitting is the most effective strategy. But it can be tough to persuade someone to stop using marijuana.

“You do have to try and convince them ... to try abstinence and to watch and see what happens,” Dr. Vinocur said.

People should “realize the root cause of this is its cannabinoid ingestion, and the treatment is really best directed at absolute avoidance,” Dr. Johnson said.

Unfortunately, evidence also shows that once a person stops using marijuana and gets relief, going back to marijuana or other forms of cannabinoids can cause the syndrome to start all over again.

“We’ve had people that quit for a month, a year, 2 years and upon resumption, almost invariably, they’re back into bouts of the hyperemesis along with all the other [symptoms],” Dr. Russo said.

Marijuana and cannabinoids can cause digestive problems, Dr. Johnson said, which may cause more problems.
 

What recent research reveals

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome is a relatively young disorder – first described in 2004 – and early reports and case studies are giving way now to studies looking into potential treatments.

So far, the strongest evidence suggests a role for an over-the-counter cream called capsaicin to help manage symptoms, but more studies are needed.

Similar to hot showers, this ingredient from chili peppers can warm the skin and trigger the temperature-sensitive skin sensors to lessen the symptoms, Dr. Johnson said.

An October 2021 study in Spain looked at 54 ED visits among 29 people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome. For the 75% treated with capsaicin, vomiting stopped after an average of 18 minutes.

Lead author Guillermo Burillo-Putze, MD, PhD, said he is most surprised by the growing number of new cases of the disorder.

“This should be of concern given the increase in cannabis use due to its legalization and permissiveness,” said Dr. Burillo-Putze, an emergency doctor at Hospital Universitario de Canarias, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Spain.

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome appears not to discriminate across racial and ethic groups. Although most studies to date include White participants, a July 2021 study of 29 people, 90% of whom were Black, found repeat visits to the ED were common.

The study found that 16 people returned 42 times to the ED and accounted for 10 hospital admissions, for example.
 

Cannabis conspiracy theories

“Unfortunately, this condition has become the subject of great speculation hinging on conspiracy theories as its true cause,” Dr. Russo noted in a September 2021 letter to the editor in the American Journal of Emergency Medicine.

Some “myth busting” is in order, he said.

For example, cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome does not happen because of exposure to products from a tree called neem or from pesticides applied to marijuana plants during cultivation, Dr. Russo said. It can also occur with high-dose synthetic cannabinoids.
 

The state of recreational and medical marijuana

Recreational marijuana is legal in 18 states, Washington, D.C., and Guam as of January 2022, according to a report in U.S. News. More states permit medical marijuana use – 37 in total, plus Washington, D.C., according to Britannica ProCon.

One of the states where only medicinal use is legal is Maryland, which is where Dr. Vinocur practices.

“We are seeing increasing numbers of cases” of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome, she said.

In addition to chronic use or higher doses, it’s likely that the higher potency levels of THC in the legal marijuana industry trigger the syndrome in some people as well.

Linda estimates she ended up in emergency rooms at least a half-dozen times in the last 5 years. In April 2021, she had a “pretty serious event.” She blames it on traveling a lot for work, not eating right, and not getting enough sleep. She broke her 2-year abstinence with alcohol.

“I basically didn’t listen to my body and paid a pretty significant price for it,” she said.

Linda did not stop altogether but said she “drastically changed the types and form of the cannabis I was using.”

“I can tell you on the record that I would be a hundred percent dead without this plant,” she said.

“The prospect of living without it was more detrimental to me than all of those things I just described to you, because addiction runs in my family and I had opiate problems myself that I overcame with cannabis.”

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

At the center of the emerging science on the unintended consequences of daily long-term use of marijuana lies a paradox.

For years, medical marijuana has been used to ease nausea from cancer chemotherapy and GI conditions. Now, with greater legalization comes growing awareness that chronic use of marijuana – also known as cannabis – can trigger a condition where, ironically, a person has hard-to-control vomiting and nausea.

Doug Menuez/thinkstock

Some people with the disorder, known as “cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome,” also report crippling belly pain.

Linda can relate. The 33-year-old Oregon resident, who asked to remain anonymous to protect her privacy, refers to a medieval spiky metal ball on a chain when describing the pain.

“Picture a mace inside your stomach, pushing up inside your chest and, at the same time, exploding out,” she said.

To seek relief, she gets down on her knees, adopts a child’s yoga pose, and runs hot water in the bathroom for hours on end, a trick many with the disorder says has provided relief. She also occasionally goes outside and tries walking it off.

“I would just wander around my neighborhood, a lot of times at like 4 or 5 in the morning,” she said. “The fresh air helps a little bit. I just keep walking down the street, take about 10 steps, stop, vomit – walk a little bit more, stop, vomit.”

Her first experience with the disorder began in the middle of one night in 2017 while she was at a conference in Las Vegas.

“We went out to eat the night before, and I woke up about 4 in the morning with just the most intense pain I’ve ever had,” she said. “I found myself in a really hot shower in between throwing up everything and trying to say get some water down. I was sharing an Airbnb with my colleagues, so it was less than ideal.”

Many people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome find relief from hot baths or showers. Researchers believe that hot water helps because temperature sensors in the skin send signals to the brain that can help ease the symptoms, at least for a while.

The problem is that people with this syndrome “can’t live in the water,” said emergency doctor and medical cannabis expert Leigh Vinocur, MD.

Fast-forward 6 months to another event in Boulder, Colo. Again, Linda woke up and could not stop vomiting.

“I was not feeling any better. Showering wasn’t helping. I ended up in the hospital,” she said.

She received opioids for her pain. But neither she nor the ED staff were quite sure what was happening. Her discharge paperwork read “cannabis allergy.”

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome “shatters that image of cannabis only being a good thing. It’s a bold statement, but, you know, once you start to think about it, it’s like a little too much of anything isn’t good,” Linda said.

Experts suggest greater awareness is needed to identify this syndrome earlier, by both cannabinoid users and doctors. The bouts of vomiting, in particular, can get so severe that people can end up hospitalized with dehydration, electrolyte disorders, and weight loss.

The severe electrolyte imbalances “can really be life-threatening,” said David Johnson, MD, a professor of medicine and chief of gastroenterology at Eastern Virginia Medical School, Norfolk.

“By the time they come into emergency care, they’re in bad shape,” Dr. Vinocur agreed. “Many try to ignore it, but they continue to vomit.”
 

Genetic risk factors?

One mystery is why some regular marijuana users get this syndrome while others do not.

“I can say that not everybody gets this, thank goodness,” said Ethan Russo, MD. “But there has to be a reason that certain people are susceptible and others are not.”

Interestingly, a new study from Dr. Russo and colleagues suggests that genes play a role. They identified five genetic changes that could make a chronic marijuana user more likely to have cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome in a study published July 5, 2021, in the journal Cannabis and Cannabinoid Research.

They compared 28 people with the disorder with 12 other high-frequency marijuana users without these symptoms.

The results are not final but could help guide future research, Dr. Russo said.

“What we’ve discovered – and it was far more than we expected – is that there’s a lot more to this than a hypersensitivity to cannabis,” said Dr. Russo, a neurologist and founder/CEO of CReDO Science, a firm that promotes cannabis research and develops commercial products.

Also, he said, those affected by cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome could be at higher risk for other conditions, such as addiction to alcohol or other substances, dementia, diabetes, and heart disease.

“Most people with [cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome] are going to be younger,” he said. “What we’ve demonstrated is there is a risk for more serious problems for decades to come. So someone who has these symptoms really deserves a look at this genetic screening.”
 

Battling disbelief

Getting back to the paradox, many users don’t believe marijuana can trigger serious vomiting and nausea because of its reputation for doing the opposite.

“Folks that have this are just uniquely resistant to the concept that cannabis is actually the problem and not the solution,” Dr. Russo said.

“It’s kind of counterintuitive because people think: ‘Oh, cannabis helps with nausea,’ so they use more of it,” said Dr. Vinocur, who is also a spokesperson for the American College of Emergency Physicians and runs a medical cannabis practice.

Most kinds of marijuana act in this way – doing opposite things at different doses. Once a certain threshold is passed, people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome are “just uniquely susceptible and really can’t tolerate any significant amount of THC,” Dr. Russo said, referring to tetrahydrocannabinol, the substance that gets marijuana users high.

Once diagnosed, quitting is the most effective strategy. But it can be tough to persuade someone to stop using marijuana.

“You do have to try and convince them ... to try abstinence and to watch and see what happens,” Dr. Vinocur said.

People should “realize the root cause of this is its cannabinoid ingestion, and the treatment is really best directed at absolute avoidance,” Dr. Johnson said.

Unfortunately, evidence also shows that once a person stops using marijuana and gets relief, going back to marijuana or other forms of cannabinoids can cause the syndrome to start all over again.

“We’ve had people that quit for a month, a year, 2 years and upon resumption, almost invariably, they’re back into bouts of the hyperemesis along with all the other [symptoms],” Dr. Russo said.

Marijuana and cannabinoids can cause digestive problems, Dr. Johnson said, which may cause more problems.
 

What recent research reveals

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome is a relatively young disorder – first described in 2004 – and early reports and case studies are giving way now to studies looking into potential treatments.

So far, the strongest evidence suggests a role for an over-the-counter cream called capsaicin to help manage symptoms, but more studies are needed.

Similar to hot showers, this ingredient from chili peppers can warm the skin and trigger the temperature-sensitive skin sensors to lessen the symptoms, Dr. Johnson said.

An October 2021 study in Spain looked at 54 ED visits among 29 people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome. For the 75% treated with capsaicin, vomiting stopped after an average of 18 minutes.

Lead author Guillermo Burillo-Putze, MD, PhD, said he is most surprised by the growing number of new cases of the disorder.

“This should be of concern given the increase in cannabis use due to its legalization and permissiveness,” said Dr. Burillo-Putze, an emergency doctor at Hospital Universitario de Canarias, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Spain.

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome appears not to discriminate across racial and ethic groups. Although most studies to date include White participants, a July 2021 study of 29 people, 90% of whom were Black, found repeat visits to the ED were common.

The study found that 16 people returned 42 times to the ED and accounted for 10 hospital admissions, for example.
 

Cannabis conspiracy theories

“Unfortunately, this condition has become the subject of great speculation hinging on conspiracy theories as its true cause,” Dr. Russo noted in a September 2021 letter to the editor in the American Journal of Emergency Medicine.

Some “myth busting” is in order, he said.

For example, cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome does not happen because of exposure to products from a tree called neem or from pesticides applied to marijuana plants during cultivation, Dr. Russo said. It can also occur with high-dose synthetic cannabinoids.
 

The state of recreational and medical marijuana

Recreational marijuana is legal in 18 states, Washington, D.C., and Guam as of January 2022, according to a report in U.S. News. More states permit medical marijuana use – 37 in total, plus Washington, D.C., according to Britannica ProCon.

One of the states where only medicinal use is legal is Maryland, which is where Dr. Vinocur practices.

“We are seeing increasing numbers of cases” of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome, she said.

In addition to chronic use or higher doses, it’s likely that the higher potency levels of THC in the legal marijuana industry trigger the syndrome in some people as well.

Linda estimates she ended up in emergency rooms at least a half-dozen times in the last 5 years. In April 2021, she had a “pretty serious event.” She blames it on traveling a lot for work, not eating right, and not getting enough sleep. She broke her 2-year abstinence with alcohol.

“I basically didn’t listen to my body and paid a pretty significant price for it,” she said.

Linda did not stop altogether but said she “drastically changed the types and form of the cannabis I was using.”

“I can tell you on the record that I would be a hundred percent dead without this plant,” she said.

“The prospect of living without it was more detrimental to me than all of those things I just described to you, because addiction runs in my family and I had opiate problems myself that I overcame with cannabis.”

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

At the center of the emerging science on the unintended consequences of daily long-term use of marijuana lies a paradox.

For years, medical marijuana has been used to ease nausea from cancer chemotherapy and GI conditions. Now, with greater legalization comes growing awareness that chronic use of marijuana – also known as cannabis – can trigger a condition where, ironically, a person has hard-to-control vomiting and nausea.

Doug Menuez/thinkstock

Some people with the disorder, known as “cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome,” also report crippling belly pain.

Linda can relate. The 33-year-old Oregon resident, who asked to remain anonymous to protect her privacy, refers to a medieval spiky metal ball on a chain when describing the pain.

“Picture a mace inside your stomach, pushing up inside your chest and, at the same time, exploding out,” she said.

To seek relief, she gets down on her knees, adopts a child’s yoga pose, and runs hot water in the bathroom for hours on end, a trick many with the disorder says has provided relief. She also occasionally goes outside and tries walking it off.

“I would just wander around my neighborhood, a lot of times at like 4 or 5 in the morning,” she said. “The fresh air helps a little bit. I just keep walking down the street, take about 10 steps, stop, vomit – walk a little bit more, stop, vomit.”

Her first experience with the disorder began in the middle of one night in 2017 while she was at a conference in Las Vegas.

“We went out to eat the night before, and I woke up about 4 in the morning with just the most intense pain I’ve ever had,” she said. “I found myself in a really hot shower in between throwing up everything and trying to say get some water down. I was sharing an Airbnb with my colleagues, so it was less than ideal.”

Many people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome find relief from hot baths or showers. Researchers believe that hot water helps because temperature sensors in the skin send signals to the brain that can help ease the symptoms, at least for a while.

The problem is that people with this syndrome “can’t live in the water,” said emergency doctor and medical cannabis expert Leigh Vinocur, MD.

Fast-forward 6 months to another event in Boulder, Colo. Again, Linda woke up and could not stop vomiting.

“I was not feeling any better. Showering wasn’t helping. I ended up in the hospital,” she said.

She received opioids for her pain. But neither she nor the ED staff were quite sure what was happening. Her discharge paperwork read “cannabis allergy.”

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome “shatters that image of cannabis only being a good thing. It’s a bold statement, but, you know, once you start to think about it, it’s like a little too much of anything isn’t good,” Linda said.

Experts suggest greater awareness is needed to identify this syndrome earlier, by both cannabinoid users and doctors. The bouts of vomiting, in particular, can get so severe that people can end up hospitalized with dehydration, electrolyte disorders, and weight loss.

The severe electrolyte imbalances “can really be life-threatening,” said David Johnson, MD, a professor of medicine and chief of gastroenterology at Eastern Virginia Medical School, Norfolk.

“By the time they come into emergency care, they’re in bad shape,” Dr. Vinocur agreed. “Many try to ignore it, but they continue to vomit.”
 

Genetic risk factors?

One mystery is why some regular marijuana users get this syndrome while others do not.

“I can say that not everybody gets this, thank goodness,” said Ethan Russo, MD. “But there has to be a reason that certain people are susceptible and others are not.”

Interestingly, a new study from Dr. Russo and colleagues suggests that genes play a role. They identified five genetic changes that could make a chronic marijuana user more likely to have cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome in a study published July 5, 2021, in the journal Cannabis and Cannabinoid Research.

They compared 28 people with the disorder with 12 other high-frequency marijuana users without these symptoms.

The results are not final but could help guide future research, Dr. Russo said.

“What we’ve discovered – and it was far more than we expected – is that there’s a lot more to this than a hypersensitivity to cannabis,” said Dr. Russo, a neurologist and founder/CEO of CReDO Science, a firm that promotes cannabis research and develops commercial products.

Also, he said, those affected by cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome could be at higher risk for other conditions, such as addiction to alcohol or other substances, dementia, diabetes, and heart disease.

“Most people with [cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome] are going to be younger,” he said. “What we’ve demonstrated is there is a risk for more serious problems for decades to come. So someone who has these symptoms really deserves a look at this genetic screening.”
 

Battling disbelief

Getting back to the paradox, many users don’t believe marijuana can trigger serious vomiting and nausea because of its reputation for doing the opposite.

“Folks that have this are just uniquely resistant to the concept that cannabis is actually the problem and not the solution,” Dr. Russo said.

“It’s kind of counterintuitive because people think: ‘Oh, cannabis helps with nausea,’ so they use more of it,” said Dr. Vinocur, who is also a spokesperson for the American College of Emergency Physicians and runs a medical cannabis practice.

Most kinds of marijuana act in this way – doing opposite things at different doses. Once a certain threshold is passed, people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome are “just uniquely susceptible and really can’t tolerate any significant amount of THC,” Dr. Russo said, referring to tetrahydrocannabinol, the substance that gets marijuana users high.

Once diagnosed, quitting is the most effective strategy. But it can be tough to persuade someone to stop using marijuana.

“You do have to try and convince them ... to try abstinence and to watch and see what happens,” Dr. Vinocur said.

People should “realize the root cause of this is its cannabinoid ingestion, and the treatment is really best directed at absolute avoidance,” Dr. Johnson said.

Unfortunately, evidence also shows that once a person stops using marijuana and gets relief, going back to marijuana or other forms of cannabinoids can cause the syndrome to start all over again.

“We’ve had people that quit for a month, a year, 2 years and upon resumption, almost invariably, they’re back into bouts of the hyperemesis along with all the other [symptoms],” Dr. Russo said.

Marijuana and cannabinoids can cause digestive problems, Dr. Johnson said, which may cause more problems.
 

What recent research reveals

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome is a relatively young disorder – first described in 2004 – and early reports and case studies are giving way now to studies looking into potential treatments.

So far, the strongest evidence suggests a role for an over-the-counter cream called capsaicin to help manage symptoms, but more studies are needed.

Similar to hot showers, this ingredient from chili peppers can warm the skin and trigger the temperature-sensitive skin sensors to lessen the symptoms, Dr. Johnson said.

An October 2021 study in Spain looked at 54 ED visits among 29 people with cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome. For the 75% treated with capsaicin, vomiting stopped after an average of 18 minutes.

Lead author Guillermo Burillo-Putze, MD, PhD, said he is most surprised by the growing number of new cases of the disorder.

“This should be of concern given the increase in cannabis use due to its legalization and permissiveness,” said Dr. Burillo-Putze, an emergency doctor at Hospital Universitario de Canarias, Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Spain.

Cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome appears not to discriminate across racial and ethic groups. Although most studies to date include White participants, a July 2021 study of 29 people, 90% of whom were Black, found repeat visits to the ED were common.

The study found that 16 people returned 42 times to the ED and accounted for 10 hospital admissions, for example.
 

Cannabis conspiracy theories

“Unfortunately, this condition has become the subject of great speculation hinging on conspiracy theories as its true cause,” Dr. Russo noted in a September 2021 letter to the editor in the American Journal of Emergency Medicine.

Some “myth busting” is in order, he said.

For example, cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome does not happen because of exposure to products from a tree called neem or from pesticides applied to marijuana plants during cultivation, Dr. Russo said. It can also occur with high-dose synthetic cannabinoids.
 

The state of recreational and medical marijuana

Recreational marijuana is legal in 18 states, Washington, D.C., and Guam as of January 2022, according to a report in U.S. News. More states permit medical marijuana use – 37 in total, plus Washington, D.C., according to Britannica ProCon.

One of the states where only medicinal use is legal is Maryland, which is where Dr. Vinocur practices.

“We are seeing increasing numbers of cases” of cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome, she said.

In addition to chronic use or higher doses, it’s likely that the higher potency levels of THC in the legal marijuana industry trigger the syndrome in some people as well.

Linda estimates she ended up in emergency rooms at least a half-dozen times in the last 5 years. In April 2021, she had a “pretty serious event.” She blames it on traveling a lot for work, not eating right, and not getting enough sleep. She broke her 2-year abstinence with alcohol.

“I basically didn’t listen to my body and paid a pretty significant price for it,” she said.

Linda did not stop altogether but said she “drastically changed the types and form of the cannabis I was using.”

“I can tell you on the record that I would be a hundred percent dead without this plant,” she said.

“The prospect of living without it was more detrimental to me than all of those things I just described to you, because addiction runs in my family and I had opiate problems myself that I overcame with cannabis.”

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

“Children are not little adults” is a common refrain in pediatric medicine, but when it comes to a condition like juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA), rheumatologists might be better off treating pediatric and adult rheumatic disease more similarly.

A recent study published in Arthritis Care & Research followed children diagnosed with JIA for 18 years. Although not the first long-term study to examine children with JIA, it is unique in that it took place “during a time where biologic DMARDs [disease-modifying antirheumatic drugs] were emerging as a fundamental therapy in the management of children with JIA,” said Dawn M. Wahezi, MD, chief of the division of pediatric rheumatology at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore in New York, who was not involved with the study.

SrdjanPav/E+/Getty Images

Additionally, the study highlights the International League of Associations for Rheumatology (ILAR) consensus-based classification criteria as an imperfect method to categorize patients with JIA.

Mia Glerup, MD, PhD, of the department of pediatrics at Aarhus (Denmark) University Hospital and colleagues prospectively analyzed 373 patients from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland with new-onset JIA between 1997 and 2000 and evaluated them at baseline, 8 years, and 18 years. At each visit, the researchers collected data on demographics, disease activity, ILAR category, treatment, and blood samples.

Patients in the cohort were mostly girls (66.7%) with a median age of 5.9 years at onset. Approximately one-third (34.8%) of patients were antinuclear antibody (ANA) positive and 21.6% were HLA-B27 positive. The most common JIA categories at baseline were persistent oligoarthritis (53.9%), polyarticular rheumatoid factor (RF) negative (21.1%), and undifferentiated arthritis (10.2%).

Dr. Glerup and colleagues found that the proportion of patients not receiving DMARDs declined from 73.2% at baseline to 59.7% at 8 years, and then rose again to 70% at 18 years (risk ratio, 1.3; P = .003). The group of 103 patients who used conventional DMARDs (cDMARDs) either as monotherapy or in combination with a biologic DMARD (bDMARD) at 8 years dwindled to 44 (42.7%) at 18 years (RR, 0.4; P < .001), whereas 32 of 52 patients (61.5%) using bDMARDs at 8 years were still taking them at 18 years (RR, 0.6; P = .02). Across the whole study, 14.7% of patients never received any JIA treatment, and 33 of 85 patients (38.8%) on continuous DMARDs developed uveitis during the study period.

Overall, 62.7% of patients received DMARDs at least once, including 89.7% with polyarticular RF negative, 77.3% with oligoarticular extended, 76.9% with systemic, 75.7% with juvenile enthesitis-related arthritis (ERA), 66.7% with polyarticular RF-positive, 65.2% with juvenile psoriatic arthritis (JPsA), 58.9% with undifferentiated JIA, and 27.6% of patients with persistent oligoarticular disease.

The median number of active joints dropped from 3 (range, 1-30) at baseline to 0 at 8 years (range, 0-13), whereas the median cumulative number of affected joints rose from 3 at baseline (range, 1-30) to 6 at 8 years (range, 1-41). At last follow-up, the median number of active joints was 0 (range, 0-5) and median cumulative number of affected joints was 7 (range, 1-47). The percentage of patients in remission barely changed from 52% at 8 years to 51% at 18.

Some patients also changed ILAR categories during the study period, with 7% shifting between baseline and 8 years, and 11% shifting between 8-year and 18-year follow-up. Compared with baseline, by the 18-year follow-up time point there was a significant decrease in the number of patients categorized as oligoarticular (230 vs. 197 patients; P = .02), a significant increase in patients in the psoriatic ILAR category (8 vs. 28 patients; P < .001), and a nonsignificant increase in the number of patients in the undifferentiated category (45 vs. 63 patients; P = .06).

“Almost half of the changes in the distribution between the ILAR categories were caused by updated information on heredity in a first-degree relative obtained at the follow-up visits,” Dr. Glerup and colleagues write.

“That kind of weaves its way through the whole study, because then they show a lot of patients have come off their medication. Patients who had more severe disease in more joints would be less likely, I think, to just stop their medication and stop going to doctors,” Dr. Imundo explained.

Although the study is valuable for its long-term follow-up, there is also a question of generalizability across a more diverse ethnic and racial group. The authors do not elaborate on the racial breakdown of their patients, Dr. Imundo said, “so we’re going to have to assume that the vast majority are going to [have] Caucasian Nordic ethnic background, and that goes along with them having this high percentage of HLA-B27 positivity, which is a gene that’s more prevalent in northern European populations.”

Jonathan Hausmann, MD, a pediatric and adult rheumatologist at Boston Children’s Hospital, Boston,, told this news organization that he believes the overall conclusions from the study – that JIA persists over time and that ILAR classification is a somewhat imprecise measure of assessing JIA types in children – would be generalizable to other groups.

However, long-term registries evaluating JIA in more diverse populations, such as the Childhood Arthritis and Rheumatology Research Alliance (CARRA) registry, could confirm these results, said Dr. Hausmann, who is a registry informatics associate with CARRA and was not associated with the research.
 

Long-term management of JIA

In an accompanying editorial, Jaime Guzman, MD, MSc, and Ross E. Petty, MD, PhD, of British Columbia Children’s Hospital and the University of British Columbia, Vancouver, said a rheumatologist’s interpretation of the study would be tied to what they learned about children with arthritis in medical school. They would see the glass as “half full” if children who achieved remission stayed in remission if they learned that a child might end up outgrowing JIA but potentially develop lifelong disability, whereas others may focus on the outcome of approximately half of patients not achieving remission.

“When I was going through medical school, I remember learning that JIA is a disease of children, and typically, they outgrow it as they become adults,” Dr. Hausmann said. “I think this study and many other studies have shown that that’s actually not the case – that, in fact, it may be a majority of kids continue having active disease even through adulthood.”

If a rheumatologist knows JIA is likely to continue into adulthood, “that’s huge,” Dr. Hausmann said. “That means when we first diagnose patients with JIA as kids, we need to set expectations with the families that this may not just go away; this may be something that could be more lifelong.”

Education on the part of the patient, their parents, and their clinician on the expected trajectory of the disease is critical so that children can continue their own care as they transition to adulthood, Dr. Hausmann explained. “The earlier the kids develop the skills to discuss their medicines, their side effects, the better they’ll be able to transition to adult medicine,” he said.

For the patients who go into remission and stay in remission, the message is also important. “To have the reassurance that a lot of those kids won’t be having active joint symptoms or need to be on medication, that’s a huge positive message that can get out there, so I think that’s great,” Dr. Imundo said.
 

Time to move on from ILAR classification?

Another big takeaway from the study was how patients’ ILAR classification changed across the 18-year follow-up. First proposed in 1995, the JIA ILAR classification has been revised several times for clarification purposes. In its current form, the ILAR classification considers a patient’s history when categorizing JIA types but also includes factors such as immediate family history. This system of assessing JIA has been criticized and there are initiatives to create a new JIA classification system to replace it.

“The ILAR criteria were designed to classify patients 6 months after disease onset in an attempt to find some commonality in clinical phenotypes, prognosis, and suggested management,” Dr. Wahezi said. “While there continues to be debate as to whether we can improve our classification of JIA patients, it is not surprising that phenotypes may evolve over time as new clinical features develop. As pediatric rheumatologists, we are well accustomed to having to modify management plans as children manifest with new clinical features over time.”

Although the percentage of patients who switched ILAR classifications over the study period was “much higher” than she would have thought, Dr. Imundo said it was the reasons provided in the study that seemed odd to her. “The classification scheme relies on your family history, like someone else in your family now has psoriasis, so your arthritis classification changes,” she explained.

“We want to head toward a much more unified classification scheme, a simpler one. We now understand that some of the diseases that we see in pediatrics are really the equivalent or same disease in adults,” she said.

“Most of the pediatric categories of JIA have distinct adult correlates,” Dr. Hausmann agreed. RF-positive polyarthritis in children and rheumatoid arthritis in adults are correlated, as are systemic JIA and adult-onset Still’s disease, he explained. “That has been borne out also by genetic susceptibility studies that the genetic predispositions to systemic arthritis in children is the same as the genetic predisposition to adult-onset Still’s disease in adults. By and large, there are a lot of similarities between the two.

“I think we need to incorporate some of that knowledge in better classifying kids with JIA so that we can find the best treatments and the best outcomes, and we can provide information to families about the expected course of the disease over time so that can inform our discussions.”

Some pediatric rheumatologists accept the classification system is flawed, but not all concur with the degree to which these problems impact patient care. “While the ILAR classification criteria may be subject to criticism, it does provide general context and prognostic implications for patients and families,” Dr. Wahezi said.

“The medicines certainly are very similar across the JIA categories, so the implications are not as broad” when classification changes,” Dr. Hausmann said. “But it certainly shows that there are things that we still don’t know. I think classification is actually pretty important because it might give you a sense of how persistent the disease will be.”

Dr. Imundo said the ILAR classification’s “time is limited,” and rheumatologists may soon need to adopt a new way of classifying children with rheumatic disease – “a more data-driven, genetics-driven scheme.”

“These categories are so imperfect, and the patients are changing. I feel like that says to me, let’s find something that’s more predictive that really helps us a little better than what we have now,” she said.

The study had no specific funding. The authors of the study and the editorial have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Hausmann reports receiving salary support from CARRA. Dr. Imundo and Dr. Wahezi have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

“Children are not little adults” is a common refrain in pediatric medicine, but when it comes to a condition like juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA), rheumatologists might be better off treating pediatric and adult rheumatic disease more similarly.

A recent study published in Arthritis Care & Research followed children diagnosed with JIA for 18 years. Although not the first long-term study to examine children with JIA, it is unique in that it took place “during a time where biologic DMARDs [disease-modifying antirheumatic drugs] were emerging as a fundamental therapy in the management of children with JIA,” said Dawn M. Wahezi, MD, chief of the division of pediatric rheumatology at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore in New York, who was not involved with the study.

SrdjanPav/E+/Getty Images

Additionally, the study highlights the International League of Associations for Rheumatology (ILAR) consensus-based classification criteria as an imperfect method to categorize patients with JIA.

Mia Glerup, MD, PhD, of the department of pediatrics at Aarhus (Denmark) University Hospital and colleagues prospectively analyzed 373 patients from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland with new-onset JIA between 1997 and 2000 and evaluated them at baseline, 8 years, and 18 years. At each visit, the researchers collected data on demographics, disease activity, ILAR category, treatment, and blood samples.

Patients in the cohort were mostly girls (66.7%) with a median age of 5.9 years at onset. Approximately one-third (34.8%) of patients were antinuclear antibody (ANA) positive and 21.6% were HLA-B27 positive. The most common JIA categories at baseline were persistent oligoarthritis (53.9%), polyarticular rheumatoid factor (RF) negative (21.1%), and undifferentiated arthritis (10.2%).

Dr. Glerup and colleagues found that the proportion of patients not receiving DMARDs declined from 73.2% at baseline to 59.7% at 8 years, and then rose again to 70% at 18 years (risk ratio, 1.3; P = .003). The group of 103 patients who used conventional DMARDs (cDMARDs) either as monotherapy or in combination with a biologic DMARD (bDMARD) at 8 years dwindled to 44 (42.7%) at 18 years (RR, 0.4; P < .001), whereas 32 of 52 patients (61.5%) using bDMARDs at 8 years were still taking them at 18 years (RR, 0.6; P = .02). Across the whole study, 14.7% of patients never received any JIA treatment, and 33 of 85 patients (38.8%) on continuous DMARDs developed uveitis during the study period.

Overall, 62.7% of patients received DMARDs at least once, including 89.7% with polyarticular RF negative, 77.3% with oligoarticular extended, 76.9% with systemic, 75.7% with juvenile enthesitis-related arthritis (ERA), 66.7% with polyarticular RF-positive, 65.2% with juvenile psoriatic arthritis (JPsA), 58.9% with undifferentiated JIA, and 27.6% of patients with persistent oligoarticular disease.

The median number of active joints dropped from 3 (range, 1-30) at baseline to 0 at 8 years (range, 0-13), whereas the median cumulative number of affected joints rose from 3 at baseline (range, 1-30) to 6 at 8 years (range, 1-41). At last follow-up, the median number of active joints was 0 (range, 0-5) and median cumulative number of affected joints was 7 (range, 1-47). The percentage of patients in remission barely changed from 52% at 8 years to 51% at 18.

Some patients also changed ILAR categories during the study period, with 7% shifting between baseline and 8 years, and 11% shifting between 8-year and 18-year follow-up. Compared with baseline, by the 18-year follow-up time point there was a significant decrease in the number of patients categorized as oligoarticular (230 vs. 197 patients; P = .02), a significant increase in patients in the psoriatic ILAR category (8 vs. 28 patients; P < .001), and a nonsignificant increase in the number of patients in the undifferentiated category (45 vs. 63 patients; P = .06).

“Almost half of the changes in the distribution between the ILAR categories were caused by updated information on heredity in a first-degree relative obtained at the follow-up visits,” Dr. Glerup and colleagues write.

“That kind of weaves its way through the whole study, because then they show a lot of patients have come off their medication. Patients who had more severe disease in more joints would be less likely, I think, to just stop their medication and stop going to doctors,” Dr. Imundo explained.

Although the study is valuable for its long-term follow-up, there is also a question of generalizability across a more diverse ethnic and racial group. The authors do not elaborate on the racial breakdown of their patients, Dr. Imundo said, “so we’re going to have to assume that the vast majority are going to [have] Caucasian Nordic ethnic background, and that goes along with them having this high percentage of HLA-B27 positivity, which is a gene that’s more prevalent in northern European populations.”

Jonathan Hausmann, MD, a pediatric and adult rheumatologist at Boston Children’s Hospital, Boston,, told this news organization that he believes the overall conclusions from the study – that JIA persists over time and that ILAR classification is a somewhat imprecise measure of assessing JIA types in children – would be generalizable to other groups.

However, long-term registries evaluating JIA in more diverse populations, such as the Childhood Arthritis and Rheumatology Research Alliance (CARRA) registry, could confirm these results, said Dr. Hausmann, who is a registry informatics associate with CARRA and was not associated with the research.
 

Long-term management of JIA

In an accompanying editorial, Jaime Guzman, MD, MSc, and Ross E. Petty, MD, PhD, of British Columbia Children’s Hospital and the University of British Columbia, Vancouver, said a rheumatologist’s interpretation of the study would be tied to what they learned about children with arthritis in medical school. They would see the glass as “half full” if children who achieved remission stayed in remission if they learned that a child might end up outgrowing JIA but potentially develop lifelong disability, whereas others may focus on the outcome of approximately half of patients not achieving remission.

“When I was going through medical school, I remember learning that JIA is a disease of children, and typically, they outgrow it as they become adults,” Dr. Hausmann said. “I think this study and many other studies have shown that that’s actually not the case – that, in fact, it may be a majority of kids continue having active disease even through adulthood.”

If a rheumatologist knows JIA is likely to continue into adulthood, “that’s huge,” Dr. Hausmann said. “That means when we first diagnose patients with JIA as kids, we need to set expectations with the families that this may not just go away; this may be something that could be more lifelong.”

Education on the part of the patient, their parents, and their clinician on the expected trajectory of the disease is critical so that children can continue their own care as they transition to adulthood, Dr. Hausmann explained. “The earlier the kids develop the skills to discuss their medicines, their side effects, the better they’ll be able to transition to adult medicine,” he said.

For the patients who go into remission and stay in remission, the message is also important. “To have the reassurance that a lot of those kids won’t be having active joint symptoms or need to be on medication, that’s a huge positive message that can get out there, so I think that’s great,” Dr. Imundo said.
 

Time to move on from ILAR classification?

Another big takeaway from the study was how patients’ ILAR classification changed across the 18-year follow-up. First proposed in 1995, the JIA ILAR classification has been revised several times for clarification purposes. In its current form, the ILAR classification considers a patient’s history when categorizing JIA types but also includes factors such as immediate family history. This system of assessing JIA has been criticized and there are initiatives to create a new JIA classification system to replace it.

“The ILAR criteria were designed to classify patients 6 months after disease onset in an attempt to find some commonality in clinical phenotypes, prognosis, and suggested management,” Dr. Wahezi said. “While there continues to be debate as to whether we can improve our classification of JIA patients, it is not surprising that phenotypes may evolve over time as new clinical features develop. As pediatric rheumatologists, we are well accustomed to having to modify management plans as children manifest with new clinical features over time.”

Although the percentage of patients who switched ILAR classifications over the study period was “much higher” than she would have thought, Dr. Imundo said it was the reasons provided in the study that seemed odd to her. “The classification scheme relies on your family history, like someone else in your family now has psoriasis, so your arthritis classification changes,” she explained.

“We want to head toward a much more unified classification scheme, a simpler one. We now understand that some of the diseases that we see in pediatrics are really the equivalent or same disease in adults,” she said.

“Most of the pediatric categories of JIA have distinct adult correlates,” Dr. Hausmann agreed. RF-positive polyarthritis in children and rheumatoid arthritis in adults are correlated, as are systemic JIA and adult-onset Still’s disease, he explained. “That has been borne out also by genetic susceptibility studies that the genetic predispositions to systemic arthritis in children is the same as the genetic predisposition to adult-onset Still’s disease in adults. By and large, there are a lot of similarities between the two.

“I think we need to incorporate some of that knowledge in better classifying kids with JIA so that we can find the best treatments and the best outcomes, and we can provide information to families about the expected course of the disease over time so that can inform our discussions.”

Some pediatric rheumatologists accept the classification system is flawed, but not all concur with the degree to which these problems impact patient care. “While the ILAR classification criteria may be subject to criticism, it does provide general context and prognostic implications for patients and families,” Dr. Wahezi said.

“The medicines certainly are very similar across the JIA categories, so the implications are not as broad” when classification changes,” Dr. Hausmann said. “But it certainly shows that there are things that we still don’t know. I think classification is actually pretty important because it might give you a sense of how persistent the disease will be.”

Dr. Imundo said the ILAR classification’s “time is limited,” and rheumatologists may soon need to adopt a new way of classifying children with rheumatic disease – “a more data-driven, genetics-driven scheme.”

“These categories are so imperfect, and the patients are changing. I feel like that says to me, let’s find something that’s more predictive that really helps us a little better than what we have now,” she said.

The study had no specific funding. The authors of the study and the editorial have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Hausmann reports receiving salary support from CARRA. Dr. Imundo and Dr. Wahezi have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

“Children are not little adults” is a common refrain in pediatric medicine, but when it comes to a condition like juvenile idiopathic arthritis (JIA), rheumatologists might be better off treating pediatric and adult rheumatic disease more similarly.

A recent study published in Arthritis Care & Research followed children diagnosed with JIA for 18 years. Although not the first long-term study to examine children with JIA, it is unique in that it took place “during a time where biologic DMARDs [disease-modifying antirheumatic drugs] were emerging as a fundamental therapy in the management of children with JIA,” said Dawn M. Wahezi, MD, chief of the division of pediatric rheumatology at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore in New York, who was not involved with the study.

SrdjanPav/E+/Getty Images

Additionally, the study highlights the International League of Associations for Rheumatology (ILAR) consensus-based classification criteria as an imperfect method to categorize patients with JIA.

Mia Glerup, MD, PhD, of the department of pediatrics at Aarhus (Denmark) University Hospital and colleagues prospectively analyzed 373 patients from Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland with new-onset JIA between 1997 and 2000 and evaluated them at baseline, 8 years, and 18 years. At each visit, the researchers collected data on demographics, disease activity, ILAR category, treatment, and blood samples.

Patients in the cohort were mostly girls (66.7%) with a median age of 5.9 years at onset. Approximately one-third (34.8%) of patients were antinuclear antibody (ANA) positive and 21.6% were HLA-B27 positive. The most common JIA categories at baseline were persistent oligoarthritis (53.9%), polyarticular rheumatoid factor (RF) negative (21.1%), and undifferentiated arthritis (10.2%).

Dr. Glerup and colleagues found that the proportion of patients not receiving DMARDs declined from 73.2% at baseline to 59.7% at 8 years, and then rose again to 70% at 18 years (risk ratio, 1.3; P = .003). The group of 103 patients who used conventional DMARDs (cDMARDs) either as monotherapy or in combination with a biologic DMARD (bDMARD) at 8 years dwindled to 44 (42.7%) at 18 years (RR, 0.4; P < .001), whereas 32 of 52 patients (61.5%) using bDMARDs at 8 years were still taking them at 18 years (RR, 0.6; P = .02). Across the whole study, 14.7% of patients never received any JIA treatment, and 33 of 85 patients (38.8%) on continuous DMARDs developed uveitis during the study period.

Overall, 62.7% of patients received DMARDs at least once, including 89.7% with polyarticular RF negative, 77.3% with oligoarticular extended, 76.9% with systemic, 75.7% with juvenile enthesitis-related arthritis (ERA), 66.7% with polyarticular RF-positive, 65.2% with juvenile psoriatic arthritis (JPsA), 58.9% with undifferentiated JIA, and 27.6% of patients with persistent oligoarticular disease.

The median number of active joints dropped from 3 (range, 1-30) at baseline to 0 at 8 years (range, 0-13), whereas the median cumulative number of affected joints rose from 3 at baseline (range, 1-30) to 6 at 8 years (range, 1-41). At last follow-up, the median number of active joints was 0 (range, 0-5) and median cumulative number of affected joints was 7 (range, 1-47). The percentage of patients in remission barely changed from 52% at 8 years to 51% at 18.

Some patients also changed ILAR categories during the study period, with 7% shifting between baseline and 8 years, and 11% shifting between 8-year and 18-year follow-up. Compared with baseline, by the 18-year follow-up time point there was a significant decrease in the number of patients categorized as oligoarticular (230 vs. 197 patients; P = .02), a significant increase in patients in the psoriatic ILAR category (8 vs. 28 patients; P < .001), and a nonsignificant increase in the number of patients in the undifferentiated category (45 vs. 63 patients; P = .06).

“Almost half of the changes in the distribution between the ILAR categories were caused by updated information on heredity in a first-degree relative obtained at the follow-up visits,” Dr. Glerup and colleagues write.

“That kind of weaves its way through the whole study, because then they show a lot of patients have come off their medication. Patients who had more severe disease in more joints would be less likely, I think, to just stop their medication and stop going to doctors,” Dr. Imundo explained.

Although the study is valuable for its long-term follow-up, there is also a question of generalizability across a more diverse ethnic and racial group. The authors do not elaborate on the racial breakdown of their patients, Dr. Imundo said, “so we’re going to have to assume that the vast majority are going to [have] Caucasian Nordic ethnic background, and that goes along with them having this high percentage of HLA-B27 positivity, which is a gene that’s more prevalent in northern European populations.”

Jonathan Hausmann, MD, a pediatric and adult rheumatologist at Boston Children’s Hospital, Boston,, told this news organization that he believes the overall conclusions from the study – that JIA persists over time and that ILAR classification is a somewhat imprecise measure of assessing JIA types in children – would be generalizable to other groups.

However, long-term registries evaluating JIA in more diverse populations, such as the Childhood Arthritis and Rheumatology Research Alliance (CARRA) registry, could confirm these results, said Dr. Hausmann, who is a registry informatics associate with CARRA and was not associated with the research.
 

Long-term management of JIA

In an accompanying editorial, Jaime Guzman, MD, MSc, and Ross E. Petty, MD, PhD, of British Columbia Children’s Hospital and the University of British Columbia, Vancouver, said a rheumatologist’s interpretation of the study would be tied to what they learned about children with arthritis in medical school. They would see the glass as “half full” if children who achieved remission stayed in remission if they learned that a child might end up outgrowing JIA but potentially develop lifelong disability, whereas others may focus on the outcome of approximately half of patients not achieving remission.

“When I was going through medical school, I remember learning that JIA is a disease of children, and typically, they outgrow it as they become adults,” Dr. Hausmann said. “I think this study and many other studies have shown that that’s actually not the case – that, in fact, it may be a majority of kids continue having active disease even through adulthood.”

If a rheumatologist knows JIA is likely to continue into adulthood, “that’s huge,” Dr. Hausmann said. “That means when we first diagnose patients with JIA as kids, we need to set expectations with the families that this may not just go away; this may be something that could be more lifelong.”

Education on the part of the patient, their parents, and their clinician on the expected trajectory of the disease is critical so that children can continue their own care as they transition to adulthood, Dr. Hausmann explained. “The earlier the kids develop the skills to discuss their medicines, their side effects, the better they’ll be able to transition to adult medicine,” he said.

For the patients who go into remission and stay in remission, the message is also important. “To have the reassurance that a lot of those kids won’t be having active joint symptoms or need to be on medication, that’s a huge positive message that can get out there, so I think that’s great,” Dr. Imundo said.
 

Time to move on from ILAR classification?

Another big takeaway from the study was how patients’ ILAR classification changed across the 18-year follow-up. First proposed in 1995, the JIA ILAR classification has been revised several times for clarification purposes. In its current form, the ILAR classification considers a patient’s history when categorizing JIA types but also includes factors such as immediate family history. This system of assessing JIA has been criticized and there are initiatives to create a new JIA classification system to replace it.

“The ILAR criteria were designed to classify patients 6 months after disease onset in an attempt to find some commonality in clinical phenotypes, prognosis, and suggested management,” Dr. Wahezi said. “While there continues to be debate as to whether we can improve our classification of JIA patients, it is not surprising that phenotypes may evolve over time as new clinical features develop. As pediatric rheumatologists, we are well accustomed to having to modify management plans as children manifest with new clinical features over time.”

Although the percentage of patients who switched ILAR classifications over the study period was “much higher” than she would have thought, Dr. Imundo said it was the reasons provided in the study that seemed odd to her. “The classification scheme relies on your family history, like someone else in your family now has psoriasis, so your arthritis classification changes,” she explained.

“We want to head toward a much more unified classification scheme, a simpler one. We now understand that some of the diseases that we see in pediatrics are really the equivalent or same disease in adults,” she said.

“Most of the pediatric categories of JIA have distinct adult correlates,” Dr. Hausmann agreed. RF-positive polyarthritis in children and rheumatoid arthritis in adults are correlated, as are systemic JIA and adult-onset Still’s disease, he explained. “That has been borne out also by genetic susceptibility studies that the genetic predispositions to systemic arthritis in children is the same as the genetic predisposition to adult-onset Still’s disease in adults. By and large, there are a lot of similarities between the two.

“I think we need to incorporate some of that knowledge in better classifying kids with JIA so that we can find the best treatments and the best outcomes, and we can provide information to families about the expected course of the disease over time so that can inform our discussions.”

Some pediatric rheumatologists accept the classification system is flawed, but not all concur with the degree to which these problems impact patient care. “While the ILAR classification criteria may be subject to criticism, it does provide general context and prognostic implications for patients and families,” Dr. Wahezi said.

“The medicines certainly are very similar across the JIA categories, so the implications are not as broad” when classification changes,” Dr. Hausmann said. “But it certainly shows that there are things that we still don’t know. I think classification is actually pretty important because it might give you a sense of how persistent the disease will be.”

Dr. Imundo said the ILAR classification’s “time is limited,” and rheumatologists may soon need to adopt a new way of classifying children with rheumatic disease – “a more data-driven, genetics-driven scheme.”

“These categories are so imperfect, and the patients are changing. I feel like that says to me, let’s find something that’s more predictive that really helps us a little better than what we have now,” she said.

The study had no specific funding. The authors of the study and the editorial have disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Hausmann reports receiving salary support from CARRA. Dr. Imundo and Dr. Wahezi have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

In mid-November, Kevin Billingsley, MD, MBA, chief medical officer at Yale Cancer Center, New Haven, Conn., was keeping a close eye on the new COVID variant sweeping across South Africa. Six weeks later, the Omicron variant had become the dominant strain in the U.S. – and the Yale health system was no exception.

“As we entered January, we had a breathtaking rate of infection in our hospital,” said Dr. Billingsley, who also leads clinical care at the Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Some of the newly authorized COVID agents were available but not widely enough to make a clinically meaningful impact to protect all high-risk individuals during this surge.”

That left the team at Yale with difficult decisions about who would receive these treatments and who wouldn’t.

The health system convened a COVID-19 immunocompromised working group to identify which patients should get priority access to one of the promising drugs authorized to treat the infection – the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab and antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir – or the sole available option to prevent it, Evusheld.

“Although clinically sound, none of these decisions have been easy,” Dr. Billingsley told this news organization. “We have done a lot of case-by-case reviewing and a lot of handwringing. Omicron has been a wild ride for us all, and we have been doing the best we can with limited resources.”
 

‘We’re seeing incredible variability’

The team at Yale is not alone. The restricted supply of COVID-19 treatments has led many oncologists and other experts across the U.S. to create carefully curated lists of their most vulnerable patients.

In late December, the National Institutes of Health published broad criteria to help clinicians prioritize patients most likely to benefit from these therapies. A handful of state health departments, including those in Michigan and Minnesota, established their own standards. Patients with cancer – specifically those with hematologic malignancies and receiving oncology therapies that compromise the immune system – appeared at the top of everyone’s list.

But ultimately individual decisions about who receives these drugs and how they’re allocated fell to institutions.

“Overall, what we’re seeing is incredible variability across the country, because there’s no uniform agreement on what comprises best practices on allocating scarce resources,” said Matthew Wynia, MD, MPH, professor of medicine and director of the Center for Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Colorado, Aurora. “There are so many people at the top of most lists, and the drugs are in such short supply, that there’s no guarantee even those in the top tier will get it.”

This news organization spoke to experts across the country about their experiences accessing these treatments during the Omicron surge and their strategies prioritizing patients with cancer.
 

Dealing with limited supply

Overall, the limited supply of COVID-19 drugs means not every patient who’s eligible to receive a treatment will get one.

A snapshot of the past 2 weeks, for instance, shows that the count of new infections hit almost 4.3 million, while distribution of the two antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir and the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab reached just over 600,000 courses.

Since receiving emergency use authorization in early December, almost 500,000 courses of the pre-exposure prophylactic agent Evusheld – which offers about 6 months of protection for immunocompromised individuals – have been distributed; however, about 7 million adults in the U.S. could potentially benefit from it.

In addition, the distribution of drugs is uneven. The federal government manages the overall distribution to states, but states then decide how to divvy up these allocations to hospitals, pharmacies, and medical centers. In Ohio, for instance, the antivirals go to providers who already receive monoclonal antibodies, while in Tennessee, the supply of antiviral agents only goes to Walmart pharmacies.

This strategy, Dr. Wynia explained, can leave clinicians at the mercy of where and how much states decide to allocate to each location. “I’ve heard of some hospitals and health systems in Colorado that aren’t using all they’ve got, but most don’t have nearly enough,” Dr. Wynia said. However, he noted, “some of that is inevitable. We will never get a perfect distribution of these drugs when there is such variable need and demand.”

And, according to Nicolette Louissaint, PhD, MBA, senior vice president of policy and strategic planning at the Healthcare Distribution Alliance in Arlington, Virginia, “we can take some comfort that the federal government is actively looking at cases from week to week and working with state and local health departments to see who needs these products, which means the process is constantly being reviewed and adjusted.”

Plus, not every positive COVID-19 case, even among immunocompromised individuals, necessarily warrants treatment. “If, for instance, an individual with cancer has a mild case of COVID-19, their provider may not deem it necessary for them to receive treatment,” Dr. Louissaint noted.

Still, given the limited and unpredictable supply, “we have had to be thoughtful about who gets these drugs,” said Derek Raghavan, MD, PhD, president of the Levine Cancer Institute, part of the 40-hospital Atrium Health system in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Dr. Raghavan said the highest priority goes to patients with hematologic malignancies, those receiving or coming off chemotherapy or experiencing myelosuppression and immune paresis, as well as those who have undergone organ transplants. Age and other comorbidities, such as diabetes or obesity, play into the lineup as well.

To further hone their priority list, the Levine Cancer Institute has implemented a cancer-centered Hospital at Home initiative. The program includes 40 oncology nurse navigators who routinely screen and score all cancer patients who test positive for COVID-19 by their symptoms and risk factors. For a time-sensitive treatment like Paxlovid, this close monitoring allows patients with COVID to access the pills within 5 days of symptom onset.

Ultimately, “the decision regarding who gets these drugs is [made] by a team to overcome any risk of personal bias, and some of it just comes down to the interface between clinical judgment and available data,” Dr. Raghavan told this news organization. “Although we’d like to have more COVID drugs available and fewer patients with COVID, we have been able to get adequate supplies for our most at-risk patients.”

Like Dr. Raghavan, Karen Bloch, MD, MPH, the medical director for the COVID Infusion Clinic at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (VUMC), said the clinic has had to be highly selective about which patients would benefit most from the COVID monoclonal antibodies. For patients with cancer, her team prioritizes individuals who would be least able to develop antibodies through vaccination or natural infection – which includes patients with B cell malignancies, acute myeloid leukemia, or multiple myeloma receiving active treatment, as well as those who recently received an allogeneic or autologous stem cell transplant.

“Since our criteria for treatment with therapies such as sotrovimab and Evusheld are pretty stringent, we have had sufficient supply to treat those who meet our internal ‘category 1’ predetermined criteria,” said Dr. Bloch, professor of medicine and associate division director for clinical affairs at VUMC, Nashville. “More recently, as the supply chain has begun to open up, we’ve been able to loosen our criteria for sotrovimab, though not for Evusheld yet.”

The Yale team described a similar evolution. “Initially, only a small subset of oncology patients could get these drugs,” said Osama (Sam) Abdelghany, PharmD, MHA, associate director of Oncology Pharmacy Services at Smilow Cancer Hospital. But as the caseload has diminished, Dr. Abdelghany noted, “we have been able to reach many more patients with COVID-19.”
 

An equitable system?

Dr. Wynia, who has written many reports on crisis standards of care, has spent thousands of hours delving into the ethics of allocating scarce resources during a disaster.

A core problem arises when there are too many people who need a scarce resource and no way of differentiating among them.

In response to the limited supply of COVID-19 treatments, some institutions, such as the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and Massachusetts General Hospital, have created a lottery system. Others, such as Johns Hopkins Medicine, have opted for first come, first served. Each strategy comes with caveats.

“First come, first served prioritization may be quicker, but it gives more well-resourced people an advantage and lends itself to people abusing the system or exacerbating existing disparities,” Dr. Wynia said.

While a lottery system may be more equitable, this strategy often comes at the price of efficiency. “The practicality of doing a lottery when you have to make a decision about whether or not to treat the patient sitting in front of you comes with its own challenges,” Dr. Wynia said.

At the University of Colorado, he explained, the health center constantly scans medical records for patients who have been diagnosed with COVID and fall into a high-risk group. That way clinicians can call or email those most likely to benefit from these drugs.

“It ends up being a bit of a first come, first served strategy,” Dr. Wynia said. “But we also do not have a huge supply coming in each week, so reaching out to the most eligible people when we have the drugs in hand means more privileged patients are less likely to game the system.”

To manage the supply of Evusheld, Timothy Kubal, MD, MBA, and colleagues also reach out to patients most likely to benefit – specifically, those who can’t mount an adequate antibody response after vaccination.

“We screen all of our patients who have been receiving anti-CD20 agents and other chemotherapy agents known to suppress antibody response,” Dr. Kubal, a medical oncologist/hematologist at the Moffitt Institute in Tampa, Florida, said in an interview. “We then test those patients for antibodies and deliver Evusheld if they have no evidence of antibodies.”

Fortunately, in the coming months, distribution of these drugs should improve significantly. Pfizer says it expects to deliver 10 million courses of Paxlovid by the end of June, and another 10 million by the end of September. More than 1 million courses of sotrovimab should be distributed by GlaxoSmithKline through the end of March. And, recently, the Biden administration announced it purchased 1.2 million courses of Evusheld from AstraZeneca.

“Every few weeks, because the COVID picture changes, the demand changes,” said Dr. Louissaint. “With vaccination rates going up and cases going down, fewer patients will need these products.”

Still, the constant barrage of supply shortages over the past 2 years – from COVID tests, ventilators, and personal protective equipment early on to COVID vaccines a year later and more recently health care staff and COVID tests once again – has taken its toll.

“We have faced supply challenge after challenge and have had to be creative in each situation,” said Lisa Barbarotta, MSN, APRN, program director of Oncology Education and Clinical Practice at Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Nothing has been easy about this.”

And, Dr. Bloch cautioned, even with broader access to COVID-19 drugs on the horizon, there is still no substitute for vaccination. “Getting vaccinated is the best and first line of defense for most people,” she said.

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

In mid-November, Kevin Billingsley, MD, MBA, chief medical officer at Yale Cancer Center, New Haven, Conn., was keeping a close eye on the new COVID variant sweeping across South Africa. Six weeks later, the Omicron variant had become the dominant strain in the U.S. – and the Yale health system was no exception.

“As we entered January, we had a breathtaking rate of infection in our hospital,” said Dr. Billingsley, who also leads clinical care at the Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Some of the newly authorized COVID agents were available but not widely enough to make a clinically meaningful impact to protect all high-risk individuals during this surge.”

That left the team at Yale with difficult decisions about who would receive these treatments and who wouldn’t.

The health system convened a COVID-19 immunocompromised working group to identify which patients should get priority access to one of the promising drugs authorized to treat the infection – the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab and antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir – or the sole available option to prevent it, Evusheld.

“Although clinically sound, none of these decisions have been easy,” Dr. Billingsley told this news organization. “We have done a lot of case-by-case reviewing and a lot of handwringing. Omicron has been a wild ride for us all, and we have been doing the best we can with limited resources.”
 

‘We’re seeing incredible variability’

The team at Yale is not alone. The restricted supply of COVID-19 treatments has led many oncologists and other experts across the U.S. to create carefully curated lists of their most vulnerable patients.

In late December, the National Institutes of Health published broad criteria to help clinicians prioritize patients most likely to benefit from these therapies. A handful of state health departments, including those in Michigan and Minnesota, established their own standards. Patients with cancer – specifically those with hematologic malignancies and receiving oncology therapies that compromise the immune system – appeared at the top of everyone’s list.

But ultimately individual decisions about who receives these drugs and how they’re allocated fell to institutions.

“Overall, what we’re seeing is incredible variability across the country, because there’s no uniform agreement on what comprises best practices on allocating scarce resources,” said Matthew Wynia, MD, MPH, professor of medicine and director of the Center for Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Colorado, Aurora. “There are so many people at the top of most lists, and the drugs are in such short supply, that there’s no guarantee even those in the top tier will get it.”

This news organization spoke to experts across the country about their experiences accessing these treatments during the Omicron surge and their strategies prioritizing patients with cancer.
 

Dealing with limited supply

Overall, the limited supply of COVID-19 drugs means not every patient who’s eligible to receive a treatment will get one.

A snapshot of the past 2 weeks, for instance, shows that the count of new infections hit almost 4.3 million, while distribution of the two antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir and the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab reached just over 600,000 courses.

Since receiving emergency use authorization in early December, almost 500,000 courses of the pre-exposure prophylactic agent Evusheld – which offers about 6 months of protection for immunocompromised individuals – have been distributed; however, about 7 million adults in the U.S. could potentially benefit from it.

In addition, the distribution of drugs is uneven. The federal government manages the overall distribution to states, but states then decide how to divvy up these allocations to hospitals, pharmacies, and medical centers. In Ohio, for instance, the antivirals go to providers who already receive monoclonal antibodies, while in Tennessee, the supply of antiviral agents only goes to Walmart pharmacies.

This strategy, Dr. Wynia explained, can leave clinicians at the mercy of where and how much states decide to allocate to each location. “I’ve heard of some hospitals and health systems in Colorado that aren’t using all they’ve got, but most don’t have nearly enough,” Dr. Wynia said. However, he noted, “some of that is inevitable. We will never get a perfect distribution of these drugs when there is such variable need and demand.”

And, according to Nicolette Louissaint, PhD, MBA, senior vice president of policy and strategic planning at the Healthcare Distribution Alliance in Arlington, Virginia, “we can take some comfort that the federal government is actively looking at cases from week to week and working with state and local health departments to see who needs these products, which means the process is constantly being reviewed and adjusted.”

Plus, not every positive COVID-19 case, even among immunocompromised individuals, necessarily warrants treatment. “If, for instance, an individual with cancer has a mild case of COVID-19, their provider may not deem it necessary for them to receive treatment,” Dr. Louissaint noted.

Still, given the limited and unpredictable supply, “we have had to be thoughtful about who gets these drugs,” said Derek Raghavan, MD, PhD, president of the Levine Cancer Institute, part of the 40-hospital Atrium Health system in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Dr. Raghavan said the highest priority goes to patients with hematologic malignancies, those receiving or coming off chemotherapy or experiencing myelosuppression and immune paresis, as well as those who have undergone organ transplants. Age and other comorbidities, such as diabetes or obesity, play into the lineup as well.

To further hone their priority list, the Levine Cancer Institute has implemented a cancer-centered Hospital at Home initiative. The program includes 40 oncology nurse navigators who routinely screen and score all cancer patients who test positive for COVID-19 by their symptoms and risk factors. For a time-sensitive treatment like Paxlovid, this close monitoring allows patients with COVID to access the pills within 5 days of symptom onset.

Ultimately, “the decision regarding who gets these drugs is [made] by a team to overcome any risk of personal bias, and some of it just comes down to the interface between clinical judgment and available data,” Dr. Raghavan told this news organization. “Although we’d like to have more COVID drugs available and fewer patients with COVID, we have been able to get adequate supplies for our most at-risk patients.”

Like Dr. Raghavan, Karen Bloch, MD, MPH, the medical director for the COVID Infusion Clinic at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (VUMC), said the clinic has had to be highly selective about which patients would benefit most from the COVID monoclonal antibodies. For patients with cancer, her team prioritizes individuals who would be least able to develop antibodies through vaccination or natural infection – which includes patients with B cell malignancies, acute myeloid leukemia, or multiple myeloma receiving active treatment, as well as those who recently received an allogeneic or autologous stem cell transplant.

“Since our criteria for treatment with therapies such as sotrovimab and Evusheld are pretty stringent, we have had sufficient supply to treat those who meet our internal ‘category 1’ predetermined criteria,” said Dr. Bloch, professor of medicine and associate division director for clinical affairs at VUMC, Nashville. “More recently, as the supply chain has begun to open up, we’ve been able to loosen our criteria for sotrovimab, though not for Evusheld yet.”

The Yale team described a similar evolution. “Initially, only a small subset of oncology patients could get these drugs,” said Osama (Sam) Abdelghany, PharmD, MHA, associate director of Oncology Pharmacy Services at Smilow Cancer Hospital. But as the caseload has diminished, Dr. Abdelghany noted, “we have been able to reach many more patients with COVID-19.”
 

An equitable system?

Dr. Wynia, who has written many reports on crisis standards of care, has spent thousands of hours delving into the ethics of allocating scarce resources during a disaster.

A core problem arises when there are too many people who need a scarce resource and no way of differentiating among them.

In response to the limited supply of COVID-19 treatments, some institutions, such as the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and Massachusetts General Hospital, have created a lottery system. Others, such as Johns Hopkins Medicine, have opted for first come, first served. Each strategy comes with caveats.

“First come, first served prioritization may be quicker, but it gives more well-resourced people an advantage and lends itself to people abusing the system or exacerbating existing disparities,” Dr. Wynia said.

While a lottery system may be more equitable, this strategy often comes at the price of efficiency. “The practicality of doing a lottery when you have to make a decision about whether or not to treat the patient sitting in front of you comes with its own challenges,” Dr. Wynia said.

At the University of Colorado, he explained, the health center constantly scans medical records for patients who have been diagnosed with COVID and fall into a high-risk group. That way clinicians can call or email those most likely to benefit from these drugs.

“It ends up being a bit of a first come, first served strategy,” Dr. Wynia said. “But we also do not have a huge supply coming in each week, so reaching out to the most eligible people when we have the drugs in hand means more privileged patients are less likely to game the system.”

To manage the supply of Evusheld, Timothy Kubal, MD, MBA, and colleagues also reach out to patients most likely to benefit – specifically, those who can’t mount an adequate antibody response after vaccination.

“We screen all of our patients who have been receiving anti-CD20 agents and other chemotherapy agents known to suppress antibody response,” Dr. Kubal, a medical oncologist/hematologist at the Moffitt Institute in Tampa, Florida, said in an interview. “We then test those patients for antibodies and deliver Evusheld if they have no evidence of antibodies.”

Fortunately, in the coming months, distribution of these drugs should improve significantly. Pfizer says it expects to deliver 10 million courses of Paxlovid by the end of June, and another 10 million by the end of September. More than 1 million courses of sotrovimab should be distributed by GlaxoSmithKline through the end of March. And, recently, the Biden administration announced it purchased 1.2 million courses of Evusheld from AstraZeneca.

“Every few weeks, because the COVID picture changes, the demand changes,” said Dr. Louissaint. “With vaccination rates going up and cases going down, fewer patients will need these products.”

Still, the constant barrage of supply shortages over the past 2 years – from COVID tests, ventilators, and personal protective equipment early on to COVID vaccines a year later and more recently health care staff and COVID tests once again – has taken its toll.

“We have faced supply challenge after challenge and have had to be creative in each situation,” said Lisa Barbarotta, MSN, APRN, program director of Oncology Education and Clinical Practice at Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Nothing has been easy about this.”

And, Dr. Bloch cautioned, even with broader access to COVID-19 drugs on the horizon, there is still no substitute for vaccination. “Getting vaccinated is the best and first line of defense for most people,” she said.

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

In mid-November, Kevin Billingsley, MD, MBA, chief medical officer at Yale Cancer Center, New Haven, Conn., was keeping a close eye on the new COVID variant sweeping across South Africa. Six weeks later, the Omicron variant had become the dominant strain in the U.S. – and the Yale health system was no exception.

“As we entered January, we had a breathtaking rate of infection in our hospital,” said Dr. Billingsley, who also leads clinical care at the Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Some of the newly authorized COVID agents were available but not widely enough to make a clinically meaningful impact to protect all high-risk individuals during this surge.”

That left the team at Yale with difficult decisions about who would receive these treatments and who wouldn’t.

The health system convened a COVID-19 immunocompromised working group to identify which patients should get priority access to one of the promising drugs authorized to treat the infection – the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab and antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir – or the sole available option to prevent it, Evusheld.

“Although clinically sound, none of these decisions have been easy,” Dr. Billingsley told this news organization. “We have done a lot of case-by-case reviewing and a lot of handwringing. Omicron has been a wild ride for us all, and we have been doing the best we can with limited resources.”
 

‘We’re seeing incredible variability’

The team at Yale is not alone. The restricted supply of COVID-19 treatments has led many oncologists and other experts across the U.S. to create carefully curated lists of their most vulnerable patients.

In late December, the National Institutes of Health published broad criteria to help clinicians prioritize patients most likely to benefit from these therapies. A handful of state health departments, including those in Michigan and Minnesota, established their own standards. Patients with cancer – specifically those with hematologic malignancies and receiving oncology therapies that compromise the immune system – appeared at the top of everyone’s list.

But ultimately individual decisions about who receives these drugs and how they’re allocated fell to institutions.

“Overall, what we’re seeing is incredible variability across the country, because there’s no uniform agreement on what comprises best practices on allocating scarce resources,” said Matthew Wynia, MD, MPH, professor of medicine and director of the Center for Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Colorado, Aurora. “There are so many people at the top of most lists, and the drugs are in such short supply, that there’s no guarantee even those in the top tier will get it.”

This news organization spoke to experts across the country about their experiences accessing these treatments during the Omicron surge and their strategies prioritizing patients with cancer.
 

Dealing with limited supply

Overall, the limited supply of COVID-19 drugs means not every patient who’s eligible to receive a treatment will get one.

A snapshot of the past 2 weeks, for instance, shows that the count of new infections hit almost 4.3 million, while distribution of the two antiviral pills Paxlovid and molnupiravir and the monoclonal antibody sotrovimab reached just over 600,000 courses.

Since receiving emergency use authorization in early December, almost 500,000 courses of the pre-exposure prophylactic agent Evusheld – which offers about 6 months of protection for immunocompromised individuals – have been distributed; however, about 7 million adults in the U.S. could potentially benefit from it.

In addition, the distribution of drugs is uneven. The federal government manages the overall distribution to states, but states then decide how to divvy up these allocations to hospitals, pharmacies, and medical centers. In Ohio, for instance, the antivirals go to providers who already receive monoclonal antibodies, while in Tennessee, the supply of antiviral agents only goes to Walmart pharmacies.

This strategy, Dr. Wynia explained, can leave clinicians at the mercy of where and how much states decide to allocate to each location. “I’ve heard of some hospitals and health systems in Colorado that aren’t using all they’ve got, but most don’t have nearly enough,” Dr. Wynia said. However, he noted, “some of that is inevitable. We will never get a perfect distribution of these drugs when there is such variable need and demand.”

And, according to Nicolette Louissaint, PhD, MBA, senior vice president of policy and strategic planning at the Healthcare Distribution Alliance in Arlington, Virginia, “we can take some comfort that the federal government is actively looking at cases from week to week and working with state and local health departments to see who needs these products, which means the process is constantly being reviewed and adjusted.”

Plus, not every positive COVID-19 case, even among immunocompromised individuals, necessarily warrants treatment. “If, for instance, an individual with cancer has a mild case of COVID-19, their provider may not deem it necessary for them to receive treatment,” Dr. Louissaint noted.

Still, given the limited and unpredictable supply, “we have had to be thoughtful about who gets these drugs,” said Derek Raghavan, MD, PhD, president of the Levine Cancer Institute, part of the 40-hospital Atrium Health system in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Dr. Raghavan said the highest priority goes to patients with hematologic malignancies, those receiving or coming off chemotherapy or experiencing myelosuppression and immune paresis, as well as those who have undergone organ transplants. Age and other comorbidities, such as diabetes or obesity, play into the lineup as well.

To further hone their priority list, the Levine Cancer Institute has implemented a cancer-centered Hospital at Home initiative. The program includes 40 oncology nurse navigators who routinely screen and score all cancer patients who test positive for COVID-19 by their symptoms and risk factors. For a time-sensitive treatment like Paxlovid, this close monitoring allows patients with COVID to access the pills within 5 days of symptom onset.

Ultimately, “the decision regarding who gets these drugs is [made] by a team to overcome any risk of personal bias, and some of it just comes down to the interface between clinical judgment and available data,” Dr. Raghavan told this news organization. “Although we’d like to have more COVID drugs available and fewer patients with COVID, we have been able to get adequate supplies for our most at-risk patients.”

Like Dr. Raghavan, Karen Bloch, MD, MPH, the medical director for the COVID Infusion Clinic at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (VUMC), said the clinic has had to be highly selective about which patients would benefit most from the COVID monoclonal antibodies. For patients with cancer, her team prioritizes individuals who would be least able to develop antibodies through vaccination or natural infection – which includes patients with B cell malignancies, acute myeloid leukemia, or multiple myeloma receiving active treatment, as well as those who recently received an allogeneic or autologous stem cell transplant.

“Since our criteria for treatment with therapies such as sotrovimab and Evusheld are pretty stringent, we have had sufficient supply to treat those who meet our internal ‘category 1’ predetermined criteria,” said Dr. Bloch, professor of medicine and associate division director for clinical affairs at VUMC, Nashville. “More recently, as the supply chain has begun to open up, we’ve been able to loosen our criteria for sotrovimab, though not for Evusheld yet.”

The Yale team described a similar evolution. “Initially, only a small subset of oncology patients could get these drugs,” said Osama (Sam) Abdelghany, PharmD, MHA, associate director of Oncology Pharmacy Services at Smilow Cancer Hospital. But as the caseload has diminished, Dr. Abdelghany noted, “we have been able to reach many more patients with COVID-19.”
 

An equitable system?

Dr. Wynia, who has written many reports on crisis standards of care, has spent thousands of hours delving into the ethics of allocating scarce resources during a disaster.

A core problem arises when there are too many people who need a scarce resource and no way of differentiating among them.

In response to the limited supply of COVID-19 treatments, some institutions, such as the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and Massachusetts General Hospital, have created a lottery system. Others, such as Johns Hopkins Medicine, have opted for first come, first served. Each strategy comes with caveats.

“First come, first served prioritization may be quicker, but it gives more well-resourced people an advantage and lends itself to people abusing the system or exacerbating existing disparities,” Dr. Wynia said.

While a lottery system may be more equitable, this strategy often comes at the price of efficiency. “The practicality of doing a lottery when you have to make a decision about whether or not to treat the patient sitting in front of you comes with its own challenges,” Dr. Wynia said.

At the University of Colorado, he explained, the health center constantly scans medical records for patients who have been diagnosed with COVID and fall into a high-risk group. That way clinicians can call or email those most likely to benefit from these drugs.

“It ends up being a bit of a first come, first served strategy,” Dr. Wynia said. “But we also do not have a huge supply coming in each week, so reaching out to the most eligible people when we have the drugs in hand means more privileged patients are less likely to game the system.”

To manage the supply of Evusheld, Timothy Kubal, MD, MBA, and colleagues also reach out to patients most likely to benefit – specifically, those who can’t mount an adequate antibody response after vaccination.

“We screen all of our patients who have been receiving anti-CD20 agents and other chemotherapy agents known to suppress antibody response,” Dr. Kubal, a medical oncologist/hematologist at the Moffitt Institute in Tampa, Florida, said in an interview. “We then test those patients for antibodies and deliver Evusheld if they have no evidence of antibodies.”

Fortunately, in the coming months, distribution of these drugs should improve significantly. Pfizer says it expects to deliver 10 million courses of Paxlovid by the end of June, and another 10 million by the end of September. More than 1 million courses of sotrovimab should be distributed by GlaxoSmithKline through the end of March. And, recently, the Biden administration announced it purchased 1.2 million courses of Evusheld from AstraZeneca.

“Every few weeks, because the COVID picture changes, the demand changes,” said Dr. Louissaint. “With vaccination rates going up and cases going down, fewer patients will need these products.”

Still, the constant barrage of supply shortages over the past 2 years – from COVID tests, ventilators, and personal protective equipment early on to COVID vaccines a year later and more recently health care staff and COVID tests once again – has taken its toll.

“We have faced supply challenge after challenge and have had to be creative in each situation,” said Lisa Barbarotta, MSN, APRN, program director of Oncology Education and Clinical Practice at Smilow Cancer Hospital. “Nothing has been easy about this.”

And, Dr. Bloch cautioned, even with broader access to COVID-19 drugs on the horizon, there is still no substitute for vaccination. “Getting vaccinated is the best and first line of defense for most people,” she said.

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