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We are all experiencing collective loss and grief because of COVID-19, but that doesn’t mean that we are experiencing the same loss or grieving the same way.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Losses can be unique to individuals, such as the death of a loved one or divorce from a spouse. They can also be more universal, such as the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001. However, both of these types of losses are generally associated with a distinct event that has a known beginning and endpoint. What makes the losses related to the coronavirus so different is that there is not a known expiration date. This lack of certainty about when the losses caused by the pandemic will end makes it difficult to process and mourn appropriately.

The multitude of potential losses includes, of course, the death of thousands of people. Many of us have personally lost loved ones or know people who have had loss because of COVID-19-related illnesses. There have also been numerous illnesses caused by delayed medical care tied to fears of going to a hospital during the pandemic. Unfortunately, there is an anticipatory loss because of the invariable diseases that will be diagnosed because of the halt of routine and preventive medical care during this current restricted phase of social distancing. There has been a loss of how people can mourn the deceased, having to go without funerals, memorials, and shivas.

There are also losses that are not related to health. These more intangible losses may include the loss of employment and stable income; loss of our children’s completion of their academic year; loss of socialization; loss of travel and visits to friends and family; loss of normal childbirth where a pregnant mother is accompanied by her partner; loss of visiting sick relatives and newborns; loss of dating, weddings, graduations, and milestone birthday celebrations; loss of visits to nursing homes of your loved ones; loss of the needed services and support to help with your young child’s disabilities; and loss of intimacy, connection and touch.

Such losses may seem inconsequential, compared with the death of an acquaintance or loved one. But we do not know the back story behind these other losses. For example, could a family member who is unable to meet the newest addition to the family have a terminal disease and his or her own expiration date? Could the lack of dating exacerbate a new divorcée’s feeling of loneliness and despair?

When we know the details associated with the individual’s loss due to COVID-19, we can understand and better empathize. Continued collective loss without an expiration date will lead to collective grief without an endpoint.
 

Stages of grief

The five distinct stages of grief experienced after a loss were initially developed by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying” and again explored in her book “On Grief and Grieving” in 2005. The stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

The grief process is unique to each individual and not necessarily a predictable process, with some moving through the stages at a slower pace while others can get stuck in one or more of the stages. This non-linear pattern of grief is evident in our grief response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Some of us had experiences of denial back in early March, when initial thoughts crept up, such as “this can’t be as bad as what the medical officials are proposing” and “how is this any different from the flu?” Denial is used as a protective defense against feeling an abundance of emotions all at once, while allowing us time to adjust to the new situation.

Most of us have also had experiences with anger directed at our leaders for not adequately preparing us and intense rage at health care administrators for lack of proper protective gear for our first-line health care workers.

Bargaining tactics were noticeable with common thoughts such as “if we stay home and risk the demise of our economy, we will have the chance to protect our most vulnerable populations and therefore save lives.” Unfortunately, many of us have also experienced thoughts of despair and depression. Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness set in with many parents, who, overnight, were given dual roles as a parent and teacher. Many parents are attempting to simultaneously juggle a full-time workload.

Some of us already have begun to move to the last stage of grief, which is acceptance. Although most of us will experience all five of the stages of grief, we are not necessarily in the same stage at the same time. This can lead to contentious conversations among colleagues, friends, and family members. We might not necessarily be in the same mourning stage as our spouse, child, mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, cousins, or friend. The differences in how we mourn can result in your spouse remaining in the denial phase of grief and refusing to wear a mask to the grocery store. At the same time, you may have already entered the bargaining phase and are willing to forgo the niceties of grocery shopping to protect and promote the common good.

With loss inevitably comes change

This difference in these stages of loss can affect how we all return to a new sense of routine when we begin to reopen our communities.

Unfortunately, we will not have defined guidelines or cookbook steps and rules to abide by. The one thing we will have is our ability to accept each other’s differences, especially when it comes to grief.

Remember, we all will grieve in our way, and this isn’t a race to the finish line. What we do know is that none of us are coming out of this unscathed. This global loss will forever change us. Our new standard will take time for acclimation, but we will get there. With loss inevitably comes change, and this experience will allow us to redefine who we are and what we choose to prioritize and focus on post pandemic. There will be a post-pandemic period, whether it is 6 months, 1 year, or 2 years from now; we will eventually start to shake hands again, even hug and kiss hello. What we need to make sure of is that we don’t forget this time. Whatever meaning you find, and change for the better, will hopefully transcend to your post-pandemic life.
 

Dr. Abraham is a psychiatrist in private practice in Philadelphia. She has no disclosures.

We are all experiencing collective loss and grief because of COVID-19, but that doesn’t mean that we are experiencing the same loss or grieving the same way.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Losses can be unique to individuals, such as the death of a loved one or divorce from a spouse. They can also be more universal, such as the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001. However, both of these types of losses are generally associated with a distinct event that has a known beginning and endpoint. What makes the losses related to the coronavirus so different is that there is not a known expiration date. This lack of certainty about when the losses caused by the pandemic will end makes it difficult to process and mourn appropriately.

The multitude of potential losses includes, of course, the death of thousands of people. Many of us have personally lost loved ones or know people who have had loss because of COVID-19-related illnesses. There have also been numerous illnesses caused by delayed medical care tied to fears of going to a hospital during the pandemic. Unfortunately, there is an anticipatory loss because of the invariable diseases that will be diagnosed because of the halt of routine and preventive medical care during this current restricted phase of social distancing. There has been a loss of how people can mourn the deceased, having to go without funerals, memorials, and shivas.

There are also losses that are not related to health. These more intangible losses may include the loss of employment and stable income; loss of our children’s completion of their academic year; loss of socialization; loss of travel and visits to friends and family; loss of normal childbirth where a pregnant mother is accompanied by her partner; loss of visiting sick relatives and newborns; loss of dating, weddings, graduations, and milestone birthday celebrations; loss of visits to nursing homes of your loved ones; loss of the needed services and support to help with your young child’s disabilities; and loss of intimacy, connection and touch.

Such losses may seem inconsequential, compared with the death of an acquaintance or loved one. But we do not know the back story behind these other losses. For example, could a family member who is unable to meet the newest addition to the family have a terminal disease and his or her own expiration date? Could the lack of dating exacerbate a new divorcée’s feeling of loneliness and despair?

When we know the details associated with the individual’s loss due to COVID-19, we can understand and better empathize. Continued collective loss without an expiration date will lead to collective grief without an endpoint.
 

Stages of grief

The five distinct stages of grief experienced after a loss were initially developed by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying” and again explored in her book “On Grief and Grieving” in 2005. The stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

The grief process is unique to each individual and not necessarily a predictable process, with some moving through the stages at a slower pace while others can get stuck in one or more of the stages. This non-linear pattern of grief is evident in our grief response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Some of us had experiences of denial back in early March, when initial thoughts crept up, such as “this can’t be as bad as what the medical officials are proposing” and “how is this any different from the flu?” Denial is used as a protective defense against feeling an abundance of emotions all at once, while allowing us time to adjust to the new situation.

Most of us have also had experiences with anger directed at our leaders for not adequately preparing us and intense rage at health care administrators for lack of proper protective gear for our first-line health care workers.

Bargaining tactics were noticeable with common thoughts such as “if we stay home and risk the demise of our economy, we will have the chance to protect our most vulnerable populations and therefore save lives.” Unfortunately, many of us have also experienced thoughts of despair and depression. Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness set in with many parents, who, overnight, were given dual roles as a parent and teacher. Many parents are attempting to simultaneously juggle a full-time workload.

Some of us already have begun to move to the last stage of grief, which is acceptance. Although most of us will experience all five of the stages of grief, we are not necessarily in the same stage at the same time. This can lead to contentious conversations among colleagues, friends, and family members. We might not necessarily be in the same mourning stage as our spouse, child, mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, cousins, or friend. The differences in how we mourn can result in your spouse remaining in the denial phase of grief and refusing to wear a mask to the grocery store. At the same time, you may have already entered the bargaining phase and are willing to forgo the niceties of grocery shopping to protect and promote the common good.

With loss inevitably comes change

This difference in these stages of loss can affect how we all return to a new sense of routine when we begin to reopen our communities.

Unfortunately, we will not have defined guidelines or cookbook steps and rules to abide by. The one thing we will have is our ability to accept each other’s differences, especially when it comes to grief.

Remember, we all will grieve in our way, and this isn’t a race to the finish line. What we do know is that none of us are coming out of this unscathed. This global loss will forever change us. Our new standard will take time for acclimation, but we will get there. With loss inevitably comes change, and this experience will allow us to redefine who we are and what we choose to prioritize and focus on post pandemic. There will be a post-pandemic period, whether it is 6 months, 1 year, or 2 years from now; we will eventually start to shake hands again, even hug and kiss hello. What we need to make sure of is that we don’t forget this time. Whatever meaning you find, and change for the better, will hopefully transcend to your post-pandemic life.
 

Dr. Abraham is a psychiatrist in private practice in Philadelphia. She has no disclosures.

We are all experiencing collective loss and grief because of COVID-19, but that doesn’t mean that we are experiencing the same loss or grieving the same way.

PeopleImages/E+/Getty Images

Losses can be unique to individuals, such as the death of a loved one or divorce from a spouse. They can also be more universal, such as the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001. However, both of these types of losses are generally associated with a distinct event that has a known beginning and endpoint. What makes the losses related to the coronavirus so different is that there is not a known expiration date. This lack of certainty about when the losses caused by the pandemic will end makes it difficult to process and mourn appropriately.

The multitude of potential losses includes, of course, the death of thousands of people. Many of us have personally lost loved ones or know people who have had loss because of COVID-19-related illnesses. There have also been numerous illnesses caused by delayed medical care tied to fears of going to a hospital during the pandemic. Unfortunately, there is an anticipatory loss because of the invariable diseases that will be diagnosed because of the halt of routine and preventive medical care during this current restricted phase of social distancing. There has been a loss of how people can mourn the deceased, having to go without funerals, memorials, and shivas.

There are also losses that are not related to health. These more intangible losses may include the loss of employment and stable income; loss of our children’s completion of their academic year; loss of socialization; loss of travel and visits to friends and family; loss of normal childbirth where a pregnant mother is accompanied by her partner; loss of visiting sick relatives and newborns; loss of dating, weddings, graduations, and milestone birthday celebrations; loss of visits to nursing homes of your loved ones; loss of the needed services and support to help with your young child’s disabilities; and loss of intimacy, connection and touch.

Such losses may seem inconsequential, compared with the death of an acquaintance or loved one. But we do not know the back story behind these other losses. For example, could a family member who is unable to meet the newest addition to the family have a terminal disease and his or her own expiration date? Could the lack of dating exacerbate a new divorcée’s feeling of loneliness and despair?

When we know the details associated with the individual’s loss due to COVID-19, we can understand and better empathize. Continued collective loss without an expiration date will lead to collective grief without an endpoint.
 

Stages of grief

The five distinct stages of grief experienced after a loss were initially developed by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying” and again explored in her book “On Grief and Grieving” in 2005. The stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

The grief process is unique to each individual and not necessarily a predictable process, with some moving through the stages at a slower pace while others can get stuck in one or more of the stages. This non-linear pattern of grief is evident in our grief response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Some of us had experiences of denial back in early March, when initial thoughts crept up, such as “this can’t be as bad as what the medical officials are proposing” and “how is this any different from the flu?” Denial is used as a protective defense against feeling an abundance of emotions all at once, while allowing us time to adjust to the new situation.

Most of us have also had experiences with anger directed at our leaders for not adequately preparing us and intense rage at health care administrators for lack of proper protective gear for our first-line health care workers.

Bargaining tactics were noticeable with common thoughts such as “if we stay home and risk the demise of our economy, we will have the chance to protect our most vulnerable populations and therefore save lives.” Unfortunately, many of us have also experienced thoughts of despair and depression. Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness set in with many parents, who, overnight, were given dual roles as a parent and teacher. Many parents are attempting to simultaneously juggle a full-time workload.

Some of us already have begun to move to the last stage of grief, which is acceptance. Although most of us will experience all five of the stages of grief, we are not necessarily in the same stage at the same time. This can lead to contentious conversations among colleagues, friends, and family members. We might not necessarily be in the same mourning stage as our spouse, child, mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, cousins, or friend. The differences in how we mourn can result in your spouse remaining in the denial phase of grief and refusing to wear a mask to the grocery store. At the same time, you may have already entered the bargaining phase and are willing to forgo the niceties of grocery shopping to protect and promote the common good.

With loss inevitably comes change

This difference in these stages of loss can affect how we all return to a new sense of routine when we begin to reopen our communities.

Unfortunately, we will not have defined guidelines or cookbook steps and rules to abide by. The one thing we will have is our ability to accept each other’s differences, especially when it comes to grief.

Remember, we all will grieve in our way, and this isn’t a race to the finish line. What we do know is that none of us are coming out of this unscathed. This global loss will forever change us. Our new standard will take time for acclimation, but we will get there. With loss inevitably comes change, and this experience will allow us to redefine who we are and what we choose to prioritize and focus on post pandemic. There will be a post-pandemic period, whether it is 6 months, 1 year, or 2 years from now; we will eventually start to shake hands again, even hug and kiss hello. What we need to make sure of is that we don’t forget this time. Whatever meaning you find, and change for the better, will hopefully transcend to your post-pandemic life.
 

Dr. Abraham is a psychiatrist in private practice in Philadelphia. She has no disclosures.

In 1966 I was struggling with the decision of whether to become an art historian or go to medical school. I decided corporate ladder climbs and tenure chases were not for me. I wanted to be my own boss. I reckoned that medicine would offer me rock-solid job security and a comfortable income that I could adjust to my needs simply by working harder. In my Norman Rockwell–influenced view of the world, there would always be sick children. There would never be a quiet week or even a day when I would have to worry about not having an income.

Tomacco/iStock/Getty Images

So it was an idyllic existence for decades, tarnished only slightly when corporate entities began gobbling up owner-operator practices. But I never envisioned a pandemic that would turn the world – including its pediatricians – upside down. For the last several weeks as I pedal past my old office, I am dumbstruck by the empty parking lot. For the present I appear to be buffered by my retirement, but know that many of you are under serious financial pressure as a result of the pandemic.

We are all yearning to return to business as usual, but we know that it isn’t going to happen because everything has changed. The usual has yet to be defined. When you finally reopen your offices, you will be walking into a strange and eerie new normal. Initially you may struggle to make it feel like nothing has changed, but very quickly the full force of the postpandemic tsunami will hit us all broadside. In 2 years, the ship may still be rocking but what will clinical pediatrics look like in the late spring of 2022?

Will the patient mix have shifted even more toward behavioral and mental health complaints as a ripple effect of the pandemic’s emotional turmoil? Will more parents have begun to realize that they can manage minor complaints without an office visit? Will your waiting room have become a maze of plexiglass barriers to separate the sick from the well? Has the hospital invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in a ventilation system in hopes of minimizing contagion in your exam rooms? Maybe you will have instituted an appointment schedule with sick visits in the morning and well checks in the afternoon. Or you may no longer have a waiting room because patients are queuing in their cars in the parking lot. Your support staff may be rollerskating around like carhops at a drive-in recording histories and taking vital signs.

Telemedicine will hopefully have gone mainstream with more robust guidelines for billing and quality control. Medical schools may be devoting more attention to teaching student how to assess remotely. Parents may now be equipped with a tool kit of remote sensors so that you can assess their child’s tympanic membranes, pulse rate, oxygen saturation, and blood pressure on your office computer screen.

Will the EHR finally have begun to emerge from its awkward and at times painful adolescence into an easily accessible and transportable nationwide data bank that includes immunization records for all ages? Patients may have been asked or ordered to allow their cell phones to be used as tracking devices for serious communicable diseases. How many vaccine-resistant people will have responded to the pandemic by deciding that immunizations are worth the minimal risks? I fear not many.

How many of your colleagues will have left pediatrics and heeded the call for more epidemiologists? Will you be required to take a CME course in ventilation management? The good news may be that to keep the pediatric workforce robust the government has decided to forgive your student loans.

None of these changes may have come to pass because we have notoriously short memories. But I am sure that we will all still bear the deep scars of this world changing event.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In 1966 I was struggling with the decision of whether to become an art historian or go to medical school. I decided corporate ladder climbs and tenure chases were not for me. I wanted to be my own boss. I reckoned that medicine would offer me rock-solid job security and a comfortable income that I could adjust to my needs simply by working harder. In my Norman Rockwell–influenced view of the world, there would always be sick children. There would never be a quiet week or even a day when I would have to worry about not having an income.

Tomacco/iStock/Getty Images

So it was an idyllic existence for decades, tarnished only slightly when corporate entities began gobbling up owner-operator practices. But I never envisioned a pandemic that would turn the world – including its pediatricians – upside down. For the last several weeks as I pedal past my old office, I am dumbstruck by the empty parking lot. For the present I appear to be buffered by my retirement, but know that many of you are under serious financial pressure as a result of the pandemic.

We are all yearning to return to business as usual, but we know that it isn’t going to happen because everything has changed. The usual has yet to be defined. When you finally reopen your offices, you will be walking into a strange and eerie new normal. Initially you may struggle to make it feel like nothing has changed, but very quickly the full force of the postpandemic tsunami will hit us all broadside. In 2 years, the ship may still be rocking but what will clinical pediatrics look like in the late spring of 2022?

Will the patient mix have shifted even more toward behavioral and mental health complaints as a ripple effect of the pandemic’s emotional turmoil? Will more parents have begun to realize that they can manage minor complaints without an office visit? Will your waiting room have become a maze of plexiglass barriers to separate the sick from the well? Has the hospital invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in a ventilation system in hopes of minimizing contagion in your exam rooms? Maybe you will have instituted an appointment schedule with sick visits in the morning and well checks in the afternoon. Or you may no longer have a waiting room because patients are queuing in their cars in the parking lot. Your support staff may be rollerskating around like carhops at a drive-in recording histories and taking vital signs.

Telemedicine will hopefully have gone mainstream with more robust guidelines for billing and quality control. Medical schools may be devoting more attention to teaching student how to assess remotely. Parents may now be equipped with a tool kit of remote sensors so that you can assess their child’s tympanic membranes, pulse rate, oxygen saturation, and blood pressure on your office computer screen.

Will the EHR finally have begun to emerge from its awkward and at times painful adolescence into an easily accessible and transportable nationwide data bank that includes immunization records for all ages? Patients may have been asked or ordered to allow their cell phones to be used as tracking devices for serious communicable diseases. How many vaccine-resistant people will have responded to the pandemic by deciding that immunizations are worth the minimal risks? I fear not many.

How many of your colleagues will have left pediatrics and heeded the call for more epidemiologists? Will you be required to take a CME course in ventilation management? The good news may be that to keep the pediatric workforce robust the government has decided to forgive your student loans.

None of these changes may have come to pass because we have notoriously short memories. But I am sure that we will all still bear the deep scars of this world changing event.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In 1966 I was struggling with the decision of whether to become an art historian or go to medical school. I decided corporate ladder climbs and tenure chases were not for me. I wanted to be my own boss. I reckoned that medicine would offer me rock-solid job security and a comfortable income that I could adjust to my needs simply by working harder. In my Norman Rockwell–influenced view of the world, there would always be sick children. There would never be a quiet week or even a day when I would have to worry about not having an income.

Tomacco/iStock/Getty Images

So it was an idyllic existence for decades, tarnished only slightly when corporate entities began gobbling up owner-operator practices. But I never envisioned a pandemic that would turn the world – including its pediatricians – upside down. For the last several weeks as I pedal past my old office, I am dumbstruck by the empty parking lot. For the present I appear to be buffered by my retirement, but know that many of you are under serious financial pressure as a result of the pandemic.

We are all yearning to return to business as usual, but we know that it isn’t going to happen because everything has changed. The usual has yet to be defined. When you finally reopen your offices, you will be walking into a strange and eerie new normal. Initially you may struggle to make it feel like nothing has changed, but very quickly the full force of the postpandemic tsunami will hit us all broadside. In 2 years, the ship may still be rocking but what will clinical pediatrics look like in the late spring of 2022?

Will the patient mix have shifted even more toward behavioral and mental health complaints as a ripple effect of the pandemic’s emotional turmoil? Will more parents have begun to realize that they can manage minor complaints without an office visit? Will your waiting room have become a maze of plexiglass barriers to separate the sick from the well? Has the hospital invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in a ventilation system in hopes of minimizing contagion in your exam rooms? Maybe you will have instituted an appointment schedule with sick visits in the morning and well checks in the afternoon. Or you may no longer have a waiting room because patients are queuing in their cars in the parking lot. Your support staff may be rollerskating around like carhops at a drive-in recording histories and taking vital signs.

Telemedicine will hopefully have gone mainstream with more robust guidelines for billing and quality control. Medical schools may be devoting more attention to teaching student how to assess remotely. Parents may now be equipped with a tool kit of remote sensors so that you can assess their child’s tympanic membranes, pulse rate, oxygen saturation, and blood pressure on your office computer screen.

Will the EHR finally have begun to emerge from its awkward and at times painful adolescence into an easily accessible and transportable nationwide data bank that includes immunization records for all ages? Patients may have been asked or ordered to allow their cell phones to be used as tracking devices for serious communicable diseases. How many vaccine-resistant people will have responded to the pandemic by deciding that immunizations are worth the minimal risks? I fear not many.

How many of your colleagues will have left pediatrics and heeded the call for more epidemiologists? Will you be required to take a CME course in ventilation management? The good news may be that to keep the pediatric workforce robust the government has decided to forgive your student loans.

None of these changes may have come to pass because we have notoriously short memories. But I am sure that we will all still bear the deep scars of this world changing event.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Noninvasive ventilation with helmet continuous positive air pressure (CPAP) deserves to be embraced as an effective strategy in preventing self-induced lung injury, often a key factor in progression from the early milder expression of COVID-19 disease to classic severe acute respiratory distress syndrome, according to European physicians who have been through what they hope are the worst days of the pandemic in the Lombardy region of Northern Italy.

Courtesy Dr. Luciano Gattinoni

Helmet CPAP is a relatively inexpensive, convenient, well-tolerated intervention. It allows patients to remain conscious and responsive to commands such as “Time to roll over,” which in turn frees up nursing staff. The purpose of helmet CPAP is to curb the huge inspiratory drive that’s a defining feature of this disease and which, unchecked, can lead to self-induced lung injury (SILI), Luciano Gattinoni, MD, explained at a webinar hosted by the European Society of Anaesthesiology.

“Paranoid attention to inspiratory effort – checking it and correcting it – is something where we can make the difference between death and life. It’s extremely important,” said Dr. Gattinoni, guest professor of anesthesiology and intensive care at the University of Gottingen (Germany).

He and his fellow panelists were in accord regarding the merits of helmet CPAP as the premier method of noninvasive ventilatory assistance. They also addressed the importance of monitoring for hypercoagulation, as well as what they’ve come to see as the essential role of pronation in what they define as Type H disease, and the need to have detailed respiratory physiotherapy protocols in place.

“COVID-19 doesn’t like physiotherapy,” explained Paolo Pelosi, MD, professor of anesthesiology and intensive care medicine at the University of Genoa (Italy).

Dr. Gattinoni is credited for identification of two polar phenotypes of what he considers to be a single COVID-19 disease. Early on, many patients present with an atypical form of acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), distinguished by an often-unexpected degree of hypoxia accompanied by high pulmonary compliance and surprisingly little shortness of breath. Dr. Gattinoni and colleagues call this Type L disease, which stands for low elastane, low ventilation to perfusion ratio, low lung weight on CT, and low lung recruitability, which means the patient has a high proportion of aerated lung tissue. Over time, because of either the natural history of the disease or SILI, this may shift to Type H disease, marked by high elastane, high right-to-left shunt, high lung weight, and high recruitability.

“If the pulmonary compliance is above 60 [mL/cm H₂O], I’m pretty sure it’s Type L. If it’s 30 [mL/cm H₂O] or less, I’m pretty sure it’s Type H. Don’t ask me about 45-55 [mL/cm H₂O]; it’s a grey zone,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

Giuseppe Foti, MD, said helmet CPAP in patients with COVID-19 should be free flow, not attached to a ventilator, and the gas flow should be set high – at least 50 L/min – in order to prevent CO₂ rebreathing. Although noninvasive ventilation is well accepted for patients with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease or acute cardiogenic pulmonary edema, it hasn’t been extensively studied in the setting of ARDS. A notable exception is a single-center randomized trial in which 83 patients with ARDS at the University of Chicago were assigned to noninvasive ventilation delivered by helmet or face mask (JAMA. 2016 Jun 14;315[22]:2435-41). The endotracheal intubation rate was just 18% in the helmet group, compared with 62% in the face mask group. The 90-day mortality rate was significantly lower in the helmet group as well, noted Dr. Foti, director of the department of anesthesia and intensive care at Monza University Hospital in Milan.

Christian Putensen, MD, said he views intubation for mechanical ventilation as wise in moderate or severe ARDS with an arterial oxygen partial pressure/fraction of inspired oxygen (PaO₂/FiO₂) ratio below 150. But in milder, Type L COVID-19 disease, he also likes helmet CPAP. It spares the patient from the traumatic compressive stress to the lung induced by mechanical ventilation, which may cause alveolar edema and SILI.

There is, however, a caveat: “Watch carefully and do not delay intubation if you see helmet CPAP is not working; that is, if the blood gas analysis doesn’t improve, the respiratory rate increases, tidal volume increases, and there is still increased respiratory drive,” advised Dr. Putensen, an anesthesiologist at the University of Bonn (Germany).

There is no agreed-upon practical quantitative measure of respiratory drive. A clinical evaluation of the patient’s depth of inspiration is the best guide, he added.

Dr. Gattinoni said that, when helmet CPAP can’t control respiratory drive in a patient with early-stage disease, he feels the only way to interrupt this destructive process is through early intubation and what he termed “gentle mechanical ventilation,” not with a positive end expiratory pressure of 20 cm H₂O, but more like 4-5.
 

Watch for hypercoagulation

Thromboembolic complications are a common feature in COVID-19 disease.

“I’ve had occasion to see the autopsy results in more than 100 patients. It’s devastating to see the number of thromboses and microthromboses in the lungs, the liver, the kidney, and in the brain,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

“COVID-19 is a serial killer, no doubt,” Dr. Pelosi agreed. “He has no mercy for anyone. And he has two bullets: The first one is for the lung, the second is on the vascular side.”

Dr. Putensen is aggressive in utilizing prophylactic high-dose anticoagulation with heparin. He carefully monitors levels of fibrinogen, Factors V and VIII, and d-dimers. In the setting of COVID-19, he has found thromboelastography to be more reliable than partial thromboplastin time in guiding heparin titration.

Pronation

Panelists agreed that pronation is an especially valuable means of enhancing oxygenation in patients with Type H disease. Dr. Putensen tries for more than 16 hours per day. Dr. Foti is preparing a study of the impact of pronation in 50 awake, nonintubated patients, most of whom were on helmet CPAP. Seven of them couldn’t tolerate pronation for even an hour at a time; for the others, the median duration was 3.5 hours at a time.

“We saw a dramatic improvement, a nearly doubling in the PaO₂/FiO₂ ratio,” Dr. Foti said.

The helmet CPAP study was done outside of the ICU because, in March 2020, the Milan hospital was utterly overwhelmed by COVID-19. The university hospital ordinarily has 25 ICU beds. This was expanded to 100 ICU beds in an effort to meet the emergency, but that still wasn’t sufficient. Indeed, COVID-19 patients occupied 600 of the hospital’s 650 beds. Physicians were forced to do something formerly unthinkable: triage patients for intubation and mechanical ventilation based upon age, comorbidities, and survival prospects.

“We felt schizophrenic. I completely agree with Luciano’s idea to intubate early when we cannot control the respiratory drive that’s due to the disease. But we couldn’t do it because we had too many patients. So we had to triage,” Dr. Foti recalled, breaking off with a sob as other panelists wiped away their own tears during the webcast.
 

Respiratory physical therapy

Dr. Pelosi said he believes that optimal care of patients with COVID-19 disease requires a major commitment to physical therapy. He strongly recommends having thoughtfully designed separate written protocols in place for respiratory physiotherapy during mechanical ventilation, weaning, and postextubation. COVID-19 patients typically require 7-10 days of assisted ventilation before weaning, and weaning is a protracted process as well.

“I like to say COVID-19 always requires patience. You have to be very, very patient with this disease,” he emphasized. “These patients have a long and difficult weaning. If the patient isn’t improving during weaning, look at two issues: superinfection and thrombembolism, macro and micro.” The physical therapy measures routinely utilized at his hospital during mechanical ventilation include elevation of the bed head greater than 30 degrees, neuromuscular electrical stimulation, subglottic secretion suctioning, tracheal and oral aspiration, and cough assistance. Separate physical therapy menus are used during before and after extubation.

Dr. Gattinoni offered a final word: “We can do almost nothing with this disease. We try our best to keep the patient alive. What we can do is avoid excessive ventilation of the patient. Applying the typical treatment of ARDS in atypical [Type L] ARDS does not make sense and may be extremely harmful.”

bjancin@mdedge.com

Noninvasive ventilation with helmet continuous positive air pressure (CPAP) deserves to be embraced as an effective strategy in preventing self-induced lung injury, often a key factor in progression from the early milder expression of COVID-19 disease to classic severe acute respiratory distress syndrome, according to European physicians who have been through what they hope are the worst days of the pandemic in the Lombardy region of Northern Italy.

Courtesy Dr. Luciano Gattinoni

Helmet CPAP is a relatively inexpensive, convenient, well-tolerated intervention. It allows patients to remain conscious and responsive to commands such as “Time to roll over,” which in turn frees up nursing staff. The purpose of helmet CPAP is to curb the huge inspiratory drive that’s a defining feature of this disease and which, unchecked, can lead to self-induced lung injury (SILI), Luciano Gattinoni, MD, explained at a webinar hosted by the European Society of Anaesthesiology.

“Paranoid attention to inspiratory effort – checking it and correcting it – is something where we can make the difference between death and life. It’s extremely important,” said Dr. Gattinoni, guest professor of anesthesiology and intensive care at the University of Gottingen (Germany).

He and his fellow panelists were in accord regarding the merits of helmet CPAP as the premier method of noninvasive ventilatory assistance. They also addressed the importance of monitoring for hypercoagulation, as well as what they’ve come to see as the essential role of pronation in what they define as Type H disease, and the need to have detailed respiratory physiotherapy protocols in place.

“COVID-19 doesn’t like physiotherapy,” explained Paolo Pelosi, MD, professor of anesthesiology and intensive care medicine at the University of Genoa (Italy).

Dr. Gattinoni is credited for identification of two polar phenotypes of what he considers to be a single COVID-19 disease. Early on, many patients present with an atypical form of acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), distinguished by an often-unexpected degree of hypoxia accompanied by high pulmonary compliance and surprisingly little shortness of breath. Dr. Gattinoni and colleagues call this Type L disease, which stands for low elastane, low ventilation to perfusion ratio, low lung weight on CT, and low lung recruitability, which means the patient has a high proportion of aerated lung tissue. Over time, because of either the natural history of the disease or SILI, this may shift to Type H disease, marked by high elastane, high right-to-left shunt, high lung weight, and high recruitability.

“If the pulmonary compliance is above 60 [mL/cm H₂O], I’m pretty sure it’s Type L. If it’s 30 [mL/cm H₂O] or less, I’m pretty sure it’s Type H. Don’t ask me about 45-55 [mL/cm H₂O]; it’s a grey zone,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

Giuseppe Foti, MD, said helmet CPAP in patients with COVID-19 should be free flow, not attached to a ventilator, and the gas flow should be set high – at least 50 L/min – in order to prevent CO₂ rebreathing. Although noninvasive ventilation is well accepted for patients with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease or acute cardiogenic pulmonary edema, it hasn’t been extensively studied in the setting of ARDS. A notable exception is a single-center randomized trial in which 83 patients with ARDS at the University of Chicago were assigned to noninvasive ventilation delivered by helmet or face mask (JAMA. 2016 Jun 14;315[22]:2435-41). The endotracheal intubation rate was just 18% in the helmet group, compared with 62% in the face mask group. The 90-day mortality rate was significantly lower in the helmet group as well, noted Dr. Foti, director of the department of anesthesia and intensive care at Monza University Hospital in Milan.

Christian Putensen, MD, said he views intubation for mechanical ventilation as wise in moderate or severe ARDS with an arterial oxygen partial pressure/fraction of inspired oxygen (PaO₂/FiO₂) ratio below 150. But in milder, Type L COVID-19 disease, he also likes helmet CPAP. It spares the patient from the traumatic compressive stress to the lung induced by mechanical ventilation, which may cause alveolar edema and SILI.

There is, however, a caveat: “Watch carefully and do not delay intubation if you see helmet CPAP is not working; that is, if the blood gas analysis doesn’t improve, the respiratory rate increases, tidal volume increases, and there is still increased respiratory drive,” advised Dr. Putensen, an anesthesiologist at the University of Bonn (Germany).

There is no agreed-upon practical quantitative measure of respiratory drive. A clinical evaluation of the patient’s depth of inspiration is the best guide, he added.

Dr. Gattinoni said that, when helmet CPAP can’t control respiratory drive in a patient with early-stage disease, he feels the only way to interrupt this destructive process is through early intubation and what he termed “gentle mechanical ventilation,” not with a positive end expiratory pressure of 20 cm H₂O, but more like 4-5.
 

Watch for hypercoagulation

Thromboembolic complications are a common feature in COVID-19 disease.

“I’ve had occasion to see the autopsy results in more than 100 patients. It’s devastating to see the number of thromboses and microthromboses in the lungs, the liver, the kidney, and in the brain,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

“COVID-19 is a serial killer, no doubt,” Dr. Pelosi agreed. “He has no mercy for anyone. And he has two bullets: The first one is for the lung, the second is on the vascular side.”

Dr. Putensen is aggressive in utilizing prophylactic high-dose anticoagulation with heparin. He carefully monitors levels of fibrinogen, Factors V and VIII, and d-dimers. In the setting of COVID-19, he has found thromboelastography to be more reliable than partial thromboplastin time in guiding heparin titration.

Pronation

Panelists agreed that pronation is an especially valuable means of enhancing oxygenation in patients with Type H disease. Dr. Putensen tries for more than 16 hours per day. Dr. Foti is preparing a study of the impact of pronation in 50 awake, nonintubated patients, most of whom were on helmet CPAP. Seven of them couldn’t tolerate pronation for even an hour at a time; for the others, the median duration was 3.5 hours at a time.

“We saw a dramatic improvement, a nearly doubling in the PaO₂/FiO₂ ratio,” Dr. Foti said.

The helmet CPAP study was done outside of the ICU because, in March 2020, the Milan hospital was utterly overwhelmed by COVID-19. The university hospital ordinarily has 25 ICU beds. This was expanded to 100 ICU beds in an effort to meet the emergency, but that still wasn’t sufficient. Indeed, COVID-19 patients occupied 600 of the hospital’s 650 beds. Physicians were forced to do something formerly unthinkable: triage patients for intubation and mechanical ventilation based upon age, comorbidities, and survival prospects.

“We felt schizophrenic. I completely agree with Luciano’s idea to intubate early when we cannot control the respiratory drive that’s due to the disease. But we couldn’t do it because we had too many patients. So we had to triage,” Dr. Foti recalled, breaking off with a sob as other panelists wiped away their own tears during the webcast.
 

Respiratory physical therapy

Dr. Pelosi said he believes that optimal care of patients with COVID-19 disease requires a major commitment to physical therapy. He strongly recommends having thoughtfully designed separate written protocols in place for respiratory physiotherapy during mechanical ventilation, weaning, and postextubation. COVID-19 patients typically require 7-10 days of assisted ventilation before weaning, and weaning is a protracted process as well.

“I like to say COVID-19 always requires patience. You have to be very, very patient with this disease,” he emphasized. “These patients have a long and difficult weaning. If the patient isn’t improving during weaning, look at two issues: superinfection and thrombembolism, macro and micro.” The physical therapy measures routinely utilized at his hospital during mechanical ventilation include elevation of the bed head greater than 30 degrees, neuromuscular electrical stimulation, subglottic secretion suctioning, tracheal and oral aspiration, and cough assistance. Separate physical therapy menus are used during before and after extubation.

Dr. Gattinoni offered a final word: “We can do almost nothing with this disease. We try our best to keep the patient alive. What we can do is avoid excessive ventilation of the patient. Applying the typical treatment of ARDS in atypical [Type L] ARDS does not make sense and may be extremely harmful.”

bjancin@mdedge.com

Noninvasive ventilation with helmet continuous positive air pressure (CPAP) deserves to be embraced as an effective strategy in preventing self-induced lung injury, often a key factor in progression from the early milder expression of COVID-19 disease to classic severe acute respiratory distress syndrome, according to European physicians who have been through what they hope are the worst days of the pandemic in the Lombardy region of Northern Italy.

Courtesy Dr. Luciano Gattinoni

Helmet CPAP is a relatively inexpensive, convenient, well-tolerated intervention. It allows patients to remain conscious and responsive to commands such as “Time to roll over,” which in turn frees up nursing staff. The purpose of helmet CPAP is to curb the huge inspiratory drive that’s a defining feature of this disease and which, unchecked, can lead to self-induced lung injury (SILI), Luciano Gattinoni, MD, explained at a webinar hosted by the European Society of Anaesthesiology.

“Paranoid attention to inspiratory effort – checking it and correcting it – is something where we can make the difference between death and life. It’s extremely important,” said Dr. Gattinoni, guest professor of anesthesiology and intensive care at the University of Gottingen (Germany).

He and his fellow panelists were in accord regarding the merits of helmet CPAP as the premier method of noninvasive ventilatory assistance. They also addressed the importance of monitoring for hypercoagulation, as well as what they’ve come to see as the essential role of pronation in what they define as Type H disease, and the need to have detailed respiratory physiotherapy protocols in place.

“COVID-19 doesn’t like physiotherapy,” explained Paolo Pelosi, MD, professor of anesthesiology and intensive care medicine at the University of Genoa (Italy).

Dr. Gattinoni is credited for identification of two polar phenotypes of what he considers to be a single COVID-19 disease. Early on, many patients present with an atypical form of acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), distinguished by an often-unexpected degree of hypoxia accompanied by high pulmonary compliance and surprisingly little shortness of breath. Dr. Gattinoni and colleagues call this Type L disease, which stands for low elastane, low ventilation to perfusion ratio, low lung weight on CT, and low lung recruitability, which means the patient has a high proportion of aerated lung tissue. Over time, because of either the natural history of the disease or SILI, this may shift to Type H disease, marked by high elastane, high right-to-left shunt, high lung weight, and high recruitability.

“If the pulmonary compliance is above 60 [mL/cm H₂O], I’m pretty sure it’s Type L. If it’s 30 [mL/cm H₂O] or less, I’m pretty sure it’s Type H. Don’t ask me about 45-55 [mL/cm H₂O]; it’s a grey zone,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

Giuseppe Foti, MD, said helmet CPAP in patients with COVID-19 should be free flow, not attached to a ventilator, and the gas flow should be set high – at least 50 L/min – in order to prevent CO₂ rebreathing. Although noninvasive ventilation is well accepted for patients with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease or acute cardiogenic pulmonary edema, it hasn’t been extensively studied in the setting of ARDS. A notable exception is a single-center randomized trial in which 83 patients with ARDS at the University of Chicago were assigned to noninvasive ventilation delivered by helmet or face mask (JAMA. 2016 Jun 14;315[22]:2435-41). The endotracheal intubation rate was just 18% in the helmet group, compared with 62% in the face mask group. The 90-day mortality rate was significantly lower in the helmet group as well, noted Dr. Foti, director of the department of anesthesia and intensive care at Monza University Hospital in Milan.

Christian Putensen, MD, said he views intubation for mechanical ventilation as wise in moderate or severe ARDS with an arterial oxygen partial pressure/fraction of inspired oxygen (PaO₂/FiO₂) ratio below 150. But in milder, Type L COVID-19 disease, he also likes helmet CPAP. It spares the patient from the traumatic compressive stress to the lung induced by mechanical ventilation, which may cause alveolar edema and SILI.

There is, however, a caveat: “Watch carefully and do not delay intubation if you see helmet CPAP is not working; that is, if the blood gas analysis doesn’t improve, the respiratory rate increases, tidal volume increases, and there is still increased respiratory drive,” advised Dr. Putensen, an anesthesiologist at the University of Bonn (Germany).

There is no agreed-upon practical quantitative measure of respiratory drive. A clinical evaluation of the patient’s depth of inspiration is the best guide, he added.

Dr. Gattinoni said that, when helmet CPAP can’t control respiratory drive in a patient with early-stage disease, he feels the only way to interrupt this destructive process is through early intubation and what he termed “gentle mechanical ventilation,” not with a positive end expiratory pressure of 20 cm H₂O, but more like 4-5.
 

Watch for hypercoagulation

Thromboembolic complications are a common feature in COVID-19 disease.

“I’ve had occasion to see the autopsy results in more than 100 patients. It’s devastating to see the number of thromboses and microthromboses in the lungs, the liver, the kidney, and in the brain,” Dr. Gattinoni said.

“COVID-19 is a serial killer, no doubt,” Dr. Pelosi agreed. “He has no mercy for anyone. And he has two bullets: The first one is for the lung, the second is on the vascular side.”

Dr. Putensen is aggressive in utilizing prophylactic high-dose anticoagulation with heparin. He carefully monitors levels of fibrinogen, Factors V and VIII, and d-dimers. In the setting of COVID-19, he has found thromboelastography to be more reliable than partial thromboplastin time in guiding heparin titration.

Pronation

Panelists agreed that pronation is an especially valuable means of enhancing oxygenation in patients with Type H disease. Dr. Putensen tries for more than 16 hours per day. Dr. Foti is preparing a study of the impact of pronation in 50 awake, nonintubated patients, most of whom were on helmet CPAP. Seven of them couldn’t tolerate pronation for even an hour at a time; for the others, the median duration was 3.5 hours at a time.

“We saw a dramatic improvement, a nearly doubling in the PaO₂/FiO₂ ratio,” Dr. Foti said.

The helmet CPAP study was done outside of the ICU because, in March 2020, the Milan hospital was utterly overwhelmed by COVID-19. The university hospital ordinarily has 25 ICU beds. This was expanded to 100 ICU beds in an effort to meet the emergency, but that still wasn’t sufficient. Indeed, COVID-19 patients occupied 600 of the hospital’s 650 beds. Physicians were forced to do something formerly unthinkable: triage patients for intubation and mechanical ventilation based upon age, comorbidities, and survival prospects.

“We felt schizophrenic. I completely agree with Luciano’s idea to intubate early when we cannot control the respiratory drive that’s due to the disease. But we couldn’t do it because we had too many patients. So we had to triage,” Dr. Foti recalled, breaking off with a sob as other panelists wiped away their own tears during the webcast.
 

Respiratory physical therapy

Dr. Pelosi said he believes that optimal care of patients with COVID-19 disease requires a major commitment to physical therapy. He strongly recommends having thoughtfully designed separate written protocols in place for respiratory physiotherapy during mechanical ventilation, weaning, and postextubation. COVID-19 patients typically require 7-10 days of assisted ventilation before weaning, and weaning is a protracted process as well.

“I like to say COVID-19 always requires patience. You have to be very, very patient with this disease,” he emphasized. “These patients have a long and difficult weaning. If the patient isn’t improving during weaning, look at two issues: superinfection and thrombembolism, macro and micro.” The physical therapy measures routinely utilized at his hospital during mechanical ventilation include elevation of the bed head greater than 30 degrees, neuromuscular electrical stimulation, subglottic secretion suctioning, tracheal and oral aspiration, and cough assistance. Separate physical therapy menus are used during before and after extubation.

Dr. Gattinoni offered a final word: “We can do almost nothing with this disease. We try our best to keep the patient alive. What we can do is avoid excessive ventilation of the patient. Applying the typical treatment of ARDS in atypical [Type L] ARDS does not make sense and may be extremely harmful.”

bjancin@mdedge.com

There was no hand sanitizer on the hospital’s psychiatric ward for fear patients would drink it; they slept together on futons in communal rooms and the windows were sealed shut to prevent suicide attempts — all conditions that created the perfect environment for the rapid spread of a potentially deadly virus.

This scenario may sound like a something out of a horror film, but as reported last month by the UK newspaper The Independent, it was the reality in the psychiatric ward of South Korea’s Daenam Hospital after COVID-19 struck. Eventually health officials put the ward on lockdown, but it wasn’t long before all but two of the unit’s 103 patients were positive for the virus.

To avoid a similar catastrophe, staff at an Israeli hospital have created what they describe as the “world’s first” dedicated COVID-19 unit for psychiatric inpatients.

Clinicians at Israel’s national hospital, Sheba Medical Center Tel HaShomer in Tel Aviv, believe the 16-bed unit, which officially opened on March 26, will stop psychiatric inpatients with the virus — who may have trouble with social distancing — from spreading it to others on the ward.

“Psychiatric patients are going to get sick from coronavirus just like anybody else,” Mark Weiser, MD, head of the psychiatric division at the institution told Medscape Medical News. “But we’re concerned that, on a psychiatric ward, a patient who is COVID-19 positive can also be psychotic, manic, cognitively impaired, or have poor judgment … making it difficult for that patient to keep social distancing, and very quickly you’ll have an entire ward of patients infected.

“So the basic public health issue is how to prevent a single psychiatric patient who is hospitalized and COVID-19-positive from making everybody else sick,” he added.
 

Unique Challenges, Rapid Response

Adapting an existing psychiatric ward to one exclusively used by inpatients with COVID-19 required significant planning, coordination, and modifications to ensure the well-being of patients and staff.

First, the ward’s air conditioning system was re-engineered to separate it from the hospital’s main system. A dedicated entrance for the exclusive use of infected psychiatric inpatients was also created.

In addition, two-way television cameras in patients’ rooms were installed to facilitate a constant flow of communication and enable therapeutic sessions and family visits. All of these modifications were completed in under a week.

“Under normal circumstances, we have cameras in the public areas of our wards, but in order to respect people’s privacy, we do not have cameras in their rooms.

“In this specific ward, on the other hand, we did put cameras in the rooms, so if a patient needs to be watched more closely, it could be done remotely without exposing staff to the virus. We have a person who’s watching the screens at all times, just to see what’s going on and see what patients are doing,” said Weiser.

Protective personal equipment (PPE) and clothing for staff was tailored to the unique challenges posed by the ward’s patient population.

“Of course, you need to wear clothes that are protective against the virus,” said Weiser. “But sometimes our patients can get agitated or even violent, so you’ve got protect against that as well.”

With this in mind, all personnel working on the ward must put on an extra layer of PPE as well as a tear-proof robe. The institution has also implemented a strict protocol that dictates the order in which PPE is donned and doffed.

“It’s got to be done in a very careful and very specific way,” said Weiser. “We have all of it organized with a poster that explains what should be taken off or put on, and in what order.”

For institutions considering setting up a similar unit, Weiser said close proximity to an active care hospital with the capacity to provide urgent care is key.

“We’re psychiatrists; we’re not great at treating acute respiratory problems. So patients with significant respiratory problems need a place to get appropriate care quickly,” he said.

In setting up the unit, there were still a few obstacles, Weiser noted. For instance, despite the many protective and safety measures undertaken by the institution, some of the hospital staff were concerned about their risk of contracting the virus.

To address these concerns, the hospital’s leadership brought in infectious disease experts to educate hospital personnel about the virus and transmission risk.

“They told our staff that given all the precautions we had taken, there was very little risk anyone else could become infected,” Weiser said.

Despite the many challenges, Weiser said he and his colleagues are thrilled with the dedicated ward and the positive reception it has received.

“My colleagues and the directors of psychiatric hospitals all around the country are very happy with this because now they’re not hospitalizing infected patients. They’re very happy for us to take care of this,” he said.
 

“No Easy Solutions”

Commenting on the initiative for Medscape Medical News, John M. Oldham, MD, chief of staff at Baylor College of Medicine’s Menninger Clinic in Houston, Texas, raised some questions.

“Is it really going to be the treatment unit or a quarantine unit? Because if you don’t have a comparable level of established, effective treatment for these patients, then you’re simply herding them off to a different place where they’re going to suffer both illnesses,” he cautioned.

Nevertheless, Oldham recognized that the issue of how to treat psychiatric patients who test positive for COVID-19 is complex.

“We’re still wrestling with that question here at Menninger. We have created an enclosed section of the inpatient area reserved for this possibility.

“If we have a patient who tests positive, we will immediately put that patient in one of these rooms in the quarantine section. Then we will use protective equipment for our staff to go and provide care for the patient,” he said.

However, he acknowledged that a psychiatric hospital is in no position to treat patients who develop severe illness from COVID-19.

“We’re certainly worried about it,” he said, “because how many inpatient general medical units are going to want to take a significantly symptomatic COVID-19 patient who was in the hospital for being acutely suicidal? There are no easy solutions.”
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There was no hand sanitizer on the hospital’s psychiatric ward for fear patients would drink it; they slept together on futons in communal rooms and the windows were sealed shut to prevent suicide attempts — all conditions that created the perfect environment for the rapid spread of a potentially deadly virus.

This scenario may sound like a something out of a horror film, but as reported last month by the UK newspaper The Independent, it was the reality in the psychiatric ward of South Korea’s Daenam Hospital after COVID-19 struck. Eventually health officials put the ward on lockdown, but it wasn’t long before all but two of the unit’s 103 patients were positive for the virus.

To avoid a similar catastrophe, staff at an Israeli hospital have created what they describe as the “world’s first” dedicated COVID-19 unit for psychiatric inpatients.

Clinicians at Israel’s national hospital, Sheba Medical Center Tel HaShomer in Tel Aviv, believe the 16-bed unit, which officially opened on March 26, will stop psychiatric inpatients with the virus — who may have trouble with social distancing — from spreading it to others on the ward.

“Psychiatric patients are going to get sick from coronavirus just like anybody else,” Mark Weiser, MD, head of the psychiatric division at the institution told Medscape Medical News. “But we’re concerned that, on a psychiatric ward, a patient who is COVID-19 positive can also be psychotic, manic, cognitively impaired, or have poor judgment … making it difficult for that patient to keep social distancing, and very quickly you’ll have an entire ward of patients infected.

“So the basic public health issue is how to prevent a single psychiatric patient who is hospitalized and COVID-19-positive from making everybody else sick,” he added.
 

Unique Challenges, Rapid Response

Adapting an existing psychiatric ward to one exclusively used by inpatients with COVID-19 required significant planning, coordination, and modifications to ensure the well-being of patients and staff.

First, the ward’s air conditioning system was re-engineered to separate it from the hospital’s main system. A dedicated entrance for the exclusive use of infected psychiatric inpatients was also created.

In addition, two-way television cameras in patients’ rooms were installed to facilitate a constant flow of communication and enable therapeutic sessions and family visits. All of these modifications were completed in under a week.

“Under normal circumstances, we have cameras in the public areas of our wards, but in order to respect people’s privacy, we do not have cameras in their rooms.

“In this specific ward, on the other hand, we did put cameras in the rooms, so if a patient needs to be watched more closely, it could be done remotely without exposing staff to the virus. We have a person who’s watching the screens at all times, just to see what’s going on and see what patients are doing,” said Weiser.

Protective personal equipment (PPE) and clothing for staff was tailored to the unique challenges posed by the ward’s patient population.

“Of course, you need to wear clothes that are protective against the virus,” said Weiser. “But sometimes our patients can get agitated or even violent, so you’ve got protect against that as well.”

With this in mind, all personnel working on the ward must put on an extra layer of PPE as well as a tear-proof robe. The institution has also implemented a strict protocol that dictates the order in which PPE is donned and doffed.

“It’s got to be done in a very careful and very specific way,” said Weiser. “We have all of it organized with a poster that explains what should be taken off or put on, and in what order.”

For institutions considering setting up a similar unit, Weiser said close proximity to an active care hospital with the capacity to provide urgent care is key.

“We’re psychiatrists; we’re not great at treating acute respiratory problems. So patients with significant respiratory problems need a place to get appropriate care quickly,” he said.

In setting up the unit, there were still a few obstacles, Weiser noted. For instance, despite the many protective and safety measures undertaken by the institution, some of the hospital staff were concerned about their risk of contracting the virus.

To address these concerns, the hospital’s leadership brought in infectious disease experts to educate hospital personnel about the virus and transmission risk.

“They told our staff that given all the precautions we had taken, there was very little risk anyone else could become infected,” Weiser said.

Despite the many challenges, Weiser said he and his colleagues are thrilled with the dedicated ward and the positive reception it has received.

“My colleagues and the directors of psychiatric hospitals all around the country are very happy with this because now they’re not hospitalizing infected patients. They’re very happy for us to take care of this,” he said.
 

“No Easy Solutions”

Commenting on the initiative for Medscape Medical News, John M. Oldham, MD, chief of staff at Baylor College of Medicine’s Menninger Clinic in Houston, Texas, raised some questions.

“Is it really going to be the treatment unit or a quarantine unit? Because if you don’t have a comparable level of established, effective treatment for these patients, then you’re simply herding them off to a different place where they’re going to suffer both illnesses,” he cautioned.

Nevertheless, Oldham recognized that the issue of how to treat psychiatric patients who test positive for COVID-19 is complex.

“We’re still wrestling with that question here at Menninger. We have created an enclosed section of the inpatient area reserved for this possibility.

“If we have a patient who tests positive, we will immediately put that patient in one of these rooms in the quarantine section. Then we will use protective equipment for our staff to go and provide care for the patient,” he said.

However, he acknowledged that a psychiatric hospital is in no position to treat patients who develop severe illness from COVID-19.

“We’re certainly worried about it,” he said, “because how many inpatient general medical units are going to want to take a significantly symptomatic COVID-19 patient who was in the hospital for being acutely suicidal? There are no easy solutions.”
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There was no hand sanitizer on the hospital’s psychiatric ward for fear patients would drink it; they slept together on futons in communal rooms and the windows were sealed shut to prevent suicide attempts — all conditions that created the perfect environment for the rapid spread of a potentially deadly virus.

This scenario may sound like a something out of a horror film, but as reported last month by the UK newspaper The Independent, it was the reality in the psychiatric ward of South Korea’s Daenam Hospital after COVID-19 struck. Eventually health officials put the ward on lockdown, but it wasn’t long before all but two of the unit’s 103 patients were positive for the virus.

To avoid a similar catastrophe, staff at an Israeli hospital have created what they describe as the “world’s first” dedicated COVID-19 unit for psychiatric inpatients.

Clinicians at Israel’s national hospital, Sheba Medical Center Tel HaShomer in Tel Aviv, believe the 16-bed unit, which officially opened on March 26, will stop psychiatric inpatients with the virus — who may have trouble with social distancing — from spreading it to others on the ward.

“Psychiatric patients are going to get sick from coronavirus just like anybody else,” Mark Weiser, MD, head of the psychiatric division at the institution told Medscape Medical News. “But we’re concerned that, on a psychiatric ward, a patient who is COVID-19 positive can also be psychotic, manic, cognitively impaired, or have poor judgment … making it difficult for that patient to keep social distancing, and very quickly you’ll have an entire ward of patients infected.

“So the basic public health issue is how to prevent a single psychiatric patient who is hospitalized and COVID-19-positive from making everybody else sick,” he added.
 

Unique Challenges, Rapid Response

Adapting an existing psychiatric ward to one exclusively used by inpatients with COVID-19 required significant planning, coordination, and modifications to ensure the well-being of patients and staff.

First, the ward’s air conditioning system was re-engineered to separate it from the hospital’s main system. A dedicated entrance for the exclusive use of infected psychiatric inpatients was also created.

In addition, two-way television cameras in patients’ rooms were installed to facilitate a constant flow of communication and enable therapeutic sessions and family visits. All of these modifications were completed in under a week.

“Under normal circumstances, we have cameras in the public areas of our wards, but in order to respect people’s privacy, we do not have cameras in their rooms.

“In this specific ward, on the other hand, we did put cameras in the rooms, so if a patient needs to be watched more closely, it could be done remotely without exposing staff to the virus. We have a person who’s watching the screens at all times, just to see what’s going on and see what patients are doing,” said Weiser.

Protective personal equipment (PPE) and clothing for staff was tailored to the unique challenges posed by the ward’s patient population.

“Of course, you need to wear clothes that are protective against the virus,” said Weiser. “But sometimes our patients can get agitated or even violent, so you’ve got protect against that as well.”

With this in mind, all personnel working on the ward must put on an extra layer of PPE as well as a tear-proof robe. The institution has also implemented a strict protocol that dictates the order in which PPE is donned and doffed.

“It’s got to be done in a very careful and very specific way,” said Weiser. “We have all of it organized with a poster that explains what should be taken off or put on, and in what order.”

For institutions considering setting up a similar unit, Weiser said close proximity to an active care hospital with the capacity to provide urgent care is key.

“We’re psychiatrists; we’re not great at treating acute respiratory problems. So patients with significant respiratory problems need a place to get appropriate care quickly,” he said.

In setting up the unit, there were still a few obstacles, Weiser noted. For instance, despite the many protective and safety measures undertaken by the institution, some of the hospital staff were concerned about their risk of contracting the virus.

To address these concerns, the hospital’s leadership brought in infectious disease experts to educate hospital personnel about the virus and transmission risk.

“They told our staff that given all the precautions we had taken, there was very little risk anyone else could become infected,” Weiser said.

Despite the many challenges, Weiser said he and his colleagues are thrilled with the dedicated ward and the positive reception it has received.

“My colleagues and the directors of psychiatric hospitals all around the country are very happy with this because now they’re not hospitalizing infected patients. They’re very happy for us to take care of this,” he said.
 

“No Easy Solutions”

Commenting on the initiative for Medscape Medical News, John M. Oldham, MD, chief of staff at Baylor College of Medicine’s Menninger Clinic in Houston, Texas, raised some questions.

“Is it really going to be the treatment unit or a quarantine unit? Because if you don’t have a comparable level of established, effective treatment for these patients, then you’re simply herding them off to a different place where they’re going to suffer both illnesses,” he cautioned.

Nevertheless, Oldham recognized that the issue of how to treat psychiatric patients who test positive for COVID-19 is complex.

“We’re still wrestling with that question here at Menninger. We have created an enclosed section of the inpatient area reserved for this possibility.

“If we have a patient who tests positive, we will immediately put that patient in one of these rooms in the quarantine section. Then we will use protective equipment for our staff to go and provide care for the patient,” he said.

However, he acknowledged that a psychiatric hospital is in no position to treat patients who develop severe illness from COVID-19.

“We’re certainly worried about it,” he said, “because how many inpatient general medical units are going to want to take a significantly symptomatic COVID-19 patient who was in the hospital for being acutely suicidal? There are no easy solutions.”
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

If you are anything like me, March 1 came and went as just another first day of the month. Few of us could have imagined that our day-to-day way of life would soon be upended, and our country would be in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. While there is considerable anxiety around protecting our individual health, social distancing and the physical isolation that comes from it have cut off a vital source of support for many of our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (or queer) (LGBTQ) youth. Shared experiences with other young people like themselves provide these youth with a sense of community that they may not find in their schools, towns, etc.

LGBTQ youth already face increased rates of anxiety and depression compared with their heterosexual and cisgender peers. According to the 2017 Youth Risk Behavior Survey, 63% of LGB youth nationwide reported feeling sad or hopeless compared with 28% of their heterosexual peers. While quarantined at home, many of these youth now are stuck for many more hours per day with families who may not accept them for who they are. Previous research by Ryan et al. shows that LGB adolescents who have higher rates of family rejection are nearly six times more likely to have higher rates of depression and more than eight times more likely to attempt suicide than their peers who come from families with low or no levels of rejection (Pediatrics. 2009 Jan;123[1]:346-52). Going to school for roughly 8 hours a day allows some of these youth an escape from what is otherwise an unpleasant home situation. In addition, educators and other school staff may be among the only allies that a student has in his/her life, and school cancellations remove students from access to these important people.

AJ_Watt/E+

Due to stay-at-home orders and physical distancing measures, lack of in-person access to medical and psychological care can be distressing for many LGBTQ youth. While many practices have been able to convert to audiovisual telemedicine visits, not all of them have the resources or capability to do so. Consequently, LGBTQ youth may have reduced access to support services that help to bolster their social and emotional health. In addition, many trans youth suffer from physical dysphoria that can make it distressing to see themselves on camera doing teletherapy and so they wish to avoid it for this reason.

This is not to say that everything is bleak. LGBTQ youth can also be resilient in times of stress and worry. “The LGBTQ community has a long history of overcoming adversity and utilizing challenges to build an even stronger sense of community. This pandemic will create yet another opportunity for us to highlight existing health disparities and to support our LGBTQ young people in finding creative responses,” said Heather Newby, LCSW, clinical social worker for the GENECIS (GENder Education and Care Interdisciplinary Support) Program at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. In addition, she reported that many LGBTQ advocacy groups have created excellent online support networks and resources to provide nationwide, regional, and local help. By leveraging these youths’ capability for resilience, we are best able to support them during a time of crisis.

During these challenging times, there are a number of resources that LGBTQ youth can turn to while trying to maintain their connection to their peers. First, many local LGBTQ service organizations have moved their in-person support groups to a virtual or online platform. Check with your local service organization to see what they are offering during these times. National organizations, such as Gender Spectrum, continue to have online groups as well that youth can participate in. Second, many virtual mental health helplines, such as those through the Trevor Project, remain staffed should LGBTQ youth need to access their services (1-866-488-7386, plus text and chat). They can be reached 24/7 to help those whose mental health has been affected during this pandemic. Third, youth can continue to stay connected to their friends through means such as Zoom, FaceTime, or other virtual audiovisual tools. Lastly, some youth have taken to meeting in school parking lots, mall parking lots, etc., and staying at least 6 feet apart so that they can still see their friends in person.

While the current times may be challenging, they will pass and we will be able to return to those activities that bring us joy. Do not hesitate to reach out if you need help. As Rainer Maria Rilke once said, “In the difficult, we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: There against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.”
 

Dr. Cooper is assistant professor of pediatrics at University of Texas Southwestern, Dallas, and an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. He has no relevant financial disclosures. Dr. Cooper is on Twitter @teendocmbc. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

If you are anything like me, March 1 came and went as just another first day of the month. Few of us could have imagined that our day-to-day way of life would soon be upended, and our country would be in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. While there is considerable anxiety around protecting our individual health, social distancing and the physical isolation that comes from it have cut off a vital source of support for many of our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (or queer) (LGBTQ) youth. Shared experiences with other young people like themselves provide these youth with a sense of community that they may not find in their schools, towns, etc.

LGBTQ youth already face increased rates of anxiety and depression compared with their heterosexual and cisgender peers. According to the 2017 Youth Risk Behavior Survey, 63% of LGB youth nationwide reported feeling sad or hopeless compared with 28% of their heterosexual peers. While quarantined at home, many of these youth now are stuck for many more hours per day with families who may not accept them for who they are. Previous research by Ryan et al. shows that LGB adolescents who have higher rates of family rejection are nearly six times more likely to have higher rates of depression and more than eight times more likely to attempt suicide than their peers who come from families with low or no levels of rejection (Pediatrics. 2009 Jan;123[1]:346-52). Going to school for roughly 8 hours a day allows some of these youth an escape from what is otherwise an unpleasant home situation. In addition, educators and other school staff may be among the only allies that a student has in his/her life, and school cancellations remove students from access to these important people.

AJ_Watt/E+

Due to stay-at-home orders and physical distancing measures, lack of in-person access to medical and psychological care can be distressing for many LGBTQ youth. While many practices have been able to convert to audiovisual telemedicine visits, not all of them have the resources or capability to do so. Consequently, LGBTQ youth may have reduced access to support services that help to bolster their social and emotional health. In addition, many trans youth suffer from physical dysphoria that can make it distressing to see themselves on camera doing teletherapy and so they wish to avoid it for this reason.

This is not to say that everything is bleak. LGBTQ youth can also be resilient in times of stress and worry. “The LGBTQ community has a long history of overcoming adversity and utilizing challenges to build an even stronger sense of community. This pandemic will create yet another opportunity for us to highlight existing health disparities and to support our LGBTQ young people in finding creative responses,” said Heather Newby, LCSW, clinical social worker for the GENECIS (GENder Education and Care Interdisciplinary Support) Program at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. In addition, she reported that many LGBTQ advocacy groups have created excellent online support networks and resources to provide nationwide, regional, and local help. By leveraging these youths’ capability for resilience, we are best able to support them during a time of crisis.

During these challenging times, there are a number of resources that LGBTQ youth can turn to while trying to maintain their connection to their peers. First, many local LGBTQ service organizations have moved their in-person support groups to a virtual or online platform. Check with your local service organization to see what they are offering during these times. National organizations, such as Gender Spectrum, continue to have online groups as well that youth can participate in. Second, many virtual mental health helplines, such as those through the Trevor Project, remain staffed should LGBTQ youth need to access their services (1-866-488-7386, plus text and chat). They can be reached 24/7 to help those whose mental health has been affected during this pandemic. Third, youth can continue to stay connected to their friends through means such as Zoom, FaceTime, or other virtual audiovisual tools. Lastly, some youth have taken to meeting in school parking lots, mall parking lots, etc., and staying at least 6 feet apart so that they can still see their friends in person.

While the current times may be challenging, they will pass and we will be able to return to those activities that bring us joy. Do not hesitate to reach out if you need help. As Rainer Maria Rilke once said, “In the difficult, we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: There against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.”
 

Dr. Cooper is assistant professor of pediatrics at University of Texas Southwestern, Dallas, and an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. He has no relevant financial disclosures. Dr. Cooper is on Twitter @teendocmbc. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

If you are anything like me, March 1 came and went as just another first day of the month. Few of us could have imagined that our day-to-day way of life would soon be upended, and our country would be in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. While there is considerable anxiety around protecting our individual health, social distancing and the physical isolation that comes from it have cut off a vital source of support for many of our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and questioning (or queer) (LGBTQ) youth. Shared experiences with other young people like themselves provide these youth with a sense of community that they may not find in their schools, towns, etc.

LGBTQ youth already face increased rates of anxiety and depression compared with their heterosexual and cisgender peers. According to the 2017 Youth Risk Behavior Survey, 63% of LGB youth nationwide reported feeling sad or hopeless compared with 28% of their heterosexual peers. While quarantined at home, many of these youth now are stuck for many more hours per day with families who may not accept them for who they are. Previous research by Ryan et al. shows that LGB adolescents who have higher rates of family rejection are nearly six times more likely to have higher rates of depression and more than eight times more likely to attempt suicide than their peers who come from families with low or no levels of rejection (Pediatrics. 2009 Jan;123[1]:346-52). Going to school for roughly 8 hours a day allows some of these youth an escape from what is otherwise an unpleasant home situation. In addition, educators and other school staff may be among the only allies that a student has in his/her life, and school cancellations remove students from access to these important people.

AJ_Watt/E+

Due to stay-at-home orders and physical distancing measures, lack of in-person access to medical and psychological care can be distressing for many LGBTQ youth. While many practices have been able to convert to audiovisual telemedicine visits, not all of them have the resources or capability to do so. Consequently, LGBTQ youth may have reduced access to support services that help to bolster their social and emotional health. In addition, many trans youth suffer from physical dysphoria that can make it distressing to see themselves on camera doing teletherapy and so they wish to avoid it for this reason.

This is not to say that everything is bleak. LGBTQ youth can also be resilient in times of stress and worry. “The LGBTQ community has a long history of overcoming adversity and utilizing challenges to build an even stronger sense of community. This pandemic will create yet another opportunity for us to highlight existing health disparities and to support our LGBTQ young people in finding creative responses,” said Heather Newby, LCSW, clinical social worker for the GENECIS (GENder Education and Care Interdisciplinary Support) Program at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. In addition, she reported that many LGBTQ advocacy groups have created excellent online support networks and resources to provide nationwide, regional, and local help. By leveraging these youths’ capability for resilience, we are best able to support them during a time of crisis.

During these challenging times, there are a number of resources that LGBTQ youth can turn to while trying to maintain their connection to their peers. First, many local LGBTQ service organizations have moved their in-person support groups to a virtual or online platform. Check with your local service organization to see what they are offering during these times. National organizations, such as Gender Spectrum, continue to have online groups as well that youth can participate in. Second, many virtual mental health helplines, such as those through the Trevor Project, remain staffed should LGBTQ youth need to access their services (1-866-488-7386, plus text and chat). They can be reached 24/7 to help those whose mental health has been affected during this pandemic. Third, youth can continue to stay connected to their friends through means such as Zoom, FaceTime, or other virtual audiovisual tools. Lastly, some youth have taken to meeting in school parking lots, mall parking lots, etc., and staying at least 6 feet apart so that they can still see their friends in person.

While the current times may be challenging, they will pass and we will be able to return to those activities that bring us joy. Do not hesitate to reach out if you need help. As Rainer Maria Rilke once said, “In the difficult, we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: There against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.”
 

Dr. Cooper is assistant professor of pediatrics at University of Texas Southwestern, Dallas, and an adolescent medicine specialist at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. He has no relevant financial disclosures. Dr. Cooper is on Twitter @teendocmbc. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It seems that some glitches would be inevitable. With a sudden shift to videoconferencing in private psychiatric practices, there were bound to be issues with both technology and privacy. One friend told me of such a glitch on the very first day she started telemental health: She was meeting with a patient who was sitting at her kitchen table. Unbeknownst to the patient, her husband walked into the kitchen behind her, fully naked, to get something from the refrigerator. “There was a full moon shot!” my friend said, initially quite shocked, and then eventually amused. As we all cope with a national tragedy and the total upheaval to our personal and professional lives, the stories just keep coming.

verbaska_studio/Getty Images

I left work on Friday, March 13, with plans to return on the following Monday to see patients. I had no idea that, by Sunday evening, I would be persuaded that for the safety of all I would need to shut down my real-life psychiatric practice and switch to a videoconferencing venue. I, along with many psychiatrists in Maryland, made this decision after Amy Huberman, MD, posted the following on the Maryland Psychiatric Society (MPS) listserv on Sunday, March 15:

“I want to make a case for starting video sessions with all your patients NOW. There is increasing evidence that the spread of coronavirus is driven primarily by asymptomatic or mildly ill people infected with the virus. Because of this, it’s not good enough to tell your patients not to come in if they have symptoms, or for you not to come into work if you have no symptoms. Even after I sent out a letter two weeks ago warning people not to come in if they had symptoms or had potentially come in contact with someone with COVID-19, several patients with coughs still came to my office, as well as several people who had just been on trips to New York City.

If we want to help slow the spread of this illness so that our health system has a better chance of being able to offer ventilators to the people who need them, we must limit all contacts as much as possible – even of asymptomatic people, given the emerging data.

I am planning to send out a message to all my patients today that they should do the same. Without the president or the media giving clear advice to people about what to do, it’s our job as physicians to do it.”

By that night, I had set up a home office with a blank wall behind me, windows in front of me, and books propping my computer at a height that would not have my patients looking up my nose. For the first time in over 20 years, I dusted my son’s Little League trophies, moved them and a 40,000 baseball card collection against the wall, carried a desk, chair, rug, houseplant, and a small Buddha into a room in which I would have some privacy, and my telepsychiatry practice found a home.

After some research, I registered for a free site called Doxy.me because it was HIPAA compliant and did not require patients to download an application; anyone with a camera on any Internet-enabled phone, computer, or tablet, could click on a link and enter my virtual waiting room. I soon discovered that images on the Doxy.me site are sometimes grainy and sometimes freeze up; in some sessions, we ended up switching to FaceTime, and as government mandates for HIPAA compliance relaxed, I offered to meet on any site that my patients might be comfortable with: if not Doxy.me (which remains my starting place for most sessions), Facetime, Skype, Zoom, or Whatsapp. I have not offered Bluejeans, Google Hangouts, or WebEx, and no one has requested those applications. I keep the phone next to the computer, and some sessions include a few minutes of tech support as I help patients (or they help me) navigate the various sites. In a few sessions, we could not get the audio to work and we used video on one venue while we talked on the phone. I haven’t figured out if the variations in the quality of the connection has to do with my Comcast connection, the fact that these websites are overloaded with users, or that my household now consists of three people, two large monitors, three laptops, two tablets, three cell phone lines (not to mention one dog and a transplanted cat), all going at the same time. The pets do not require any bandwidth, but all the people are talking to screens throughout the workday.

As my colleagues embarked on the same journey, the listserv questions and comments came quickly. What were the best platforms? Was it a good thing or a bad thing to suddenly be in people’s homes? Some felt the extraneous background to be helpful, others found it distracting and intrusive.

How do these sessions get coded for the purpose of billing? There was a tremendous amount of confusion over that, with the initial verdict being that Medicare wanted the place of service changed to “02” and that private insurers want one of two modifiers, and it was anyone’s guess which company wanted which modifier. Then there was the concern that Medicare was paying 25% less, until the MPS staff clarified that full fees would be paid, but the place of service should be filled in as “11” – not “02” – as with regular office visits, and the modifier “95” should be added on the Health Care Finance Administration claim form. We were left to wait and see what gets reimbursed and for what fees.

Could new patients be seen by videoconferencing? Could patients from other states be seen this way if the psychiatrist was not licensed in the state where the patient was calling from? One psychiatrist reported he had a patient in an adjacent state drive over the border into Maryland, but the patient brought her mother and the evaluation included unwanted input from the mom as the session consisted of the patient and her mother yelling at both each other in the car and at the psychiatrist on the screen!

Psychiatrists on the listserv began to comment that treatment sessions were intense and exhausting. I feel the literal face-to-face contact of another person’s head just inches from my own, with full eye contact, often gets to be a lot. No one asks why I’ve moved a trinket (ah, there are no trinkets) or gazes off around the room. I sometimes sit for long periods of time as I don’t even stand to see the patients to the door. Other patients move about or bounce their devices on their laps, and my stomach starts to feel queasy until I ask to have the device adjusted. In some sessions, I find I’m talking to partial heads, or that computer icons cover the patient’s mouth.

Being in people’s lives via screen has been interesting. Unlike my colleague, I have not had any streaking spouses, but I’ve greeted a few family members – often those serving as technical support – and I’ve toured part of a farm, met dogs, guinea pigs, and even a goat. I’ve made brief daily “visits” to a frightened patient in isolation on a COVID hospital unit and had the joy of celebrating the discharge to home. It’s odd to be in a bedroom with a patient, even virtually, and it is interesting to note where they choose to hold their sessions; I’ve had several patients hold sessions from their cars. Seeing my own image in the corner of the screen is also a bit distracting, and in one session, as I saw my own reaction, my patient said, “I knew you were going to make that face!”

The pandemic has usurped most of the activities of all of our lives, and without social interactions, travel, and work in the usual way, life does not hold its usual richness. Many patients have less to say fewer interpersonal strains, and I find myself asking more questions, working harder to fill sessions that used to fill themselves. In a few cases, I have ended the session after half the time as the patient insisted there was nothing to talk about. Many talk about the medical problems they can’t be seen for, what they are doing to keep safe (or not), how they are washing down their groceries, and who they are meeting with by Zoom. Of those who were terribly anxious before, some feel oddly calmer – the world has ramped up to meet their level of anxiety and they feel vindicated. No one thinks they are odd for worrying about germs on door knobs or elevator buttons. What were once neurotic fears are now our real-life reality. Others have been triggered by a paralyzing fear, often with panic attacks, and these sessions are certainly challenging as I figure out which medications will best help, while responding to requests for reassurance. And there is the troublesome aspect of trying to care for others who are fearful while living with the reality that these fears are not extraneous to our own lives: We, too, are scared for ourselves and our families.

For some people, stay-at-home mandates have been easier than for others. People who are naturally introverted, or those with social anxiety, have told me they find this time at home to be a relief. They no longer feel pressured to go out; there is permission to be alone, to read, or watch Netflix. No one is pressuring them to go to parties or look for a Tinder date. For others, the isolation and loneliness have been devastating, causing a range of emotions from being “stir crazy,” to triggering episodes of major depression and severe anxiety.

Health care workers in therapy talk about their fears of being contaminated with coronavirus, about the exposures they’ve had, their fears of bringing the virus home to family, and about the anger – sometimes rage – that their employers are not doing more to protect them.

Few people these past weeks are looking for insight into their patterns of behavior and emotion. Most of life has come to be about survival and not about personal striving. Students who are driven to excel are disappointed to have their scholastic worlds have switched to pass/fail. And for those struggling with milder forms of depression and anxiety, both the patients and I have all been a bit perplexed by losing the usual measures of what feelings are normal in a tragic world and we no longer use socializing as the hallmark that heralds a return to normalcy after a period of withdrawal.

In some aspects, it is not all been bad. I’ve enjoyed watching my neighbors walk by with their dogs through the window behind my computer screen and I’ve felt part of the daily evolution as the cherry tree outside that same window turns from dead brown wood to vibrant pink blossoms. I like the flexibility of my schedule and the sensation I always carry of being rushed has quelled. I take more walks and spend more time with the family members who are held captive with me. The dog, who no longer is left alone for hours each day, is certainly a winner.

Some of my colleagues tell me they are overwhelmed – patients they have not seen for years have returned, people are asking for more frequent sessions, and they are suddenly trying to work at home while homeschooling children. I have had only a few of those requests for crisis care, while new referrals are much quieter than normal. Some of my patients have even said that they simply aren’t comfortable meeting this way and they will see me at the other end of the pandemic. A few people I would have expected to hear from I have not, and I fear that those who have lost their jobs may avoiding the cost of treatment – this group I will reach out to in the coming weeks. A little extra time, however, has given me the opportunity to join the Johns Hopkins COVID-19 Mental Health team. And my first attempt at teaching a resident seminar by Zoom has gone well.

For some in the medical field, this has been a horrible and traumatic time; they are worked to exhaustion, and surrounded by distress, death, and personal fear with every shift. For others, life has come to a standstill as the elective procedures that fill their days have virtually stopped. For outpatient psychiatry, it’s been a bit of an in-between, we may feel an odd mix of relevant and useless all at the same time, as our services are appreciated by our patients, but as actual soldiers caring for the ill COVID patients, we are leaving that to our colleagues in the EDs, COVID units, and ICUs. As a physician who has not treated a patient in an ICU for decades, I wish I had something more concrete to contribute to the effort, and at the same time, I’m relieved that I don’t.

And what about the patients? How are they doing with remote psychiatry? Some are clearly flustered or frustrated by the technology issues. Other times sessions go smoothly, and the fact that we are talking through screens gets forgotten. Some like the convenience of not having to drive a far distance and no one misses my crowded parking lot.

Kristen, another doctor’s patient in Illinois, commented: “I appreciate the continuity in care, especially if the alternative is delaying appointments. I think that’s most important. The interaction helps manage added anxiety from isolating as well. I don’t think it diminishes the care I receive; it makes me feel that my doctor is still accessible. One other point, since I have had both telemedicine and in-person appointments with my current psychiatrist, is that during in-person meetings, he is usually on his computer and rarely looks at me or makes eye contact. In virtual meetings, I feel he is much more engaged with me.”

In normal times, I spend a good deal of time encouraging patients to work on building their relationships and community – these connections lead people to healthy and fulfilling lives – and now we talk about how to best be socially distant. We see each other as vectors of disease and to greet a friend with a handshake, much less a hug, would be unthinkable. Will our collective psyches ever recover? For those of us who will survive, that remains to be seen. In the meantime, perhaps we are all being forced to be more flexible and innovative.

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

It seems that some glitches would be inevitable. With a sudden shift to videoconferencing in private psychiatric practices, there were bound to be issues with both technology and privacy. One friend told me of such a glitch on the very first day she started telemental health: She was meeting with a patient who was sitting at her kitchen table. Unbeknownst to the patient, her husband walked into the kitchen behind her, fully naked, to get something from the refrigerator. “There was a full moon shot!” my friend said, initially quite shocked, and then eventually amused. As we all cope with a national tragedy and the total upheaval to our personal and professional lives, the stories just keep coming.

verbaska_studio/Getty Images

I left work on Friday, March 13, with plans to return on the following Monday to see patients. I had no idea that, by Sunday evening, I would be persuaded that for the safety of all I would need to shut down my real-life psychiatric practice and switch to a videoconferencing venue. I, along with many psychiatrists in Maryland, made this decision after Amy Huberman, MD, posted the following on the Maryland Psychiatric Society (MPS) listserv on Sunday, March 15:

“I want to make a case for starting video sessions with all your patients NOW. There is increasing evidence that the spread of coronavirus is driven primarily by asymptomatic or mildly ill people infected with the virus. Because of this, it’s not good enough to tell your patients not to come in if they have symptoms, or for you not to come into work if you have no symptoms. Even after I sent out a letter two weeks ago warning people not to come in if they had symptoms or had potentially come in contact with someone with COVID-19, several patients with coughs still came to my office, as well as several people who had just been on trips to New York City.

If we want to help slow the spread of this illness so that our health system has a better chance of being able to offer ventilators to the people who need them, we must limit all contacts as much as possible – even of asymptomatic people, given the emerging data.

I am planning to send out a message to all my patients today that they should do the same. Without the president or the media giving clear advice to people about what to do, it’s our job as physicians to do it.”

By that night, I had set up a home office with a blank wall behind me, windows in front of me, and books propping my computer at a height that would not have my patients looking up my nose. For the first time in over 20 years, I dusted my son’s Little League trophies, moved them and a 40,000 baseball card collection against the wall, carried a desk, chair, rug, houseplant, and a small Buddha into a room in which I would have some privacy, and my telepsychiatry practice found a home.

After some research, I registered for a free site called Doxy.me because it was HIPAA compliant and did not require patients to download an application; anyone with a camera on any Internet-enabled phone, computer, or tablet, could click on a link and enter my virtual waiting room. I soon discovered that images on the Doxy.me site are sometimes grainy and sometimes freeze up; in some sessions, we ended up switching to FaceTime, and as government mandates for HIPAA compliance relaxed, I offered to meet on any site that my patients might be comfortable with: if not Doxy.me (which remains my starting place for most sessions), Facetime, Skype, Zoom, or Whatsapp. I have not offered Bluejeans, Google Hangouts, or WebEx, and no one has requested those applications. I keep the phone next to the computer, and some sessions include a few minutes of tech support as I help patients (or they help me) navigate the various sites. In a few sessions, we could not get the audio to work and we used video on one venue while we talked on the phone. I haven’t figured out if the variations in the quality of the connection has to do with my Comcast connection, the fact that these websites are overloaded with users, or that my household now consists of three people, two large monitors, three laptops, two tablets, three cell phone lines (not to mention one dog and a transplanted cat), all going at the same time. The pets do not require any bandwidth, but all the people are talking to screens throughout the workday.

As my colleagues embarked on the same journey, the listserv questions and comments came quickly. What were the best platforms? Was it a good thing or a bad thing to suddenly be in people’s homes? Some felt the extraneous background to be helpful, others found it distracting and intrusive.

How do these sessions get coded for the purpose of billing? There was a tremendous amount of confusion over that, with the initial verdict being that Medicare wanted the place of service changed to “02” and that private insurers want one of two modifiers, and it was anyone’s guess which company wanted which modifier. Then there was the concern that Medicare was paying 25% less, until the MPS staff clarified that full fees would be paid, but the place of service should be filled in as “11” – not “02” – as with regular office visits, and the modifier “95” should be added on the Health Care Finance Administration claim form. We were left to wait and see what gets reimbursed and for what fees.

Could new patients be seen by videoconferencing? Could patients from other states be seen this way if the psychiatrist was not licensed in the state where the patient was calling from? One psychiatrist reported he had a patient in an adjacent state drive over the border into Maryland, but the patient brought her mother and the evaluation included unwanted input from the mom as the session consisted of the patient and her mother yelling at both each other in the car and at the psychiatrist on the screen!

Psychiatrists on the listserv began to comment that treatment sessions were intense and exhausting. I feel the literal face-to-face contact of another person’s head just inches from my own, with full eye contact, often gets to be a lot. No one asks why I’ve moved a trinket (ah, there are no trinkets) or gazes off around the room. I sometimes sit for long periods of time as I don’t even stand to see the patients to the door. Other patients move about or bounce their devices on their laps, and my stomach starts to feel queasy until I ask to have the device adjusted. In some sessions, I find I’m talking to partial heads, or that computer icons cover the patient’s mouth.

Being in people’s lives via screen has been interesting. Unlike my colleague, I have not had any streaking spouses, but I’ve greeted a few family members – often those serving as technical support – and I’ve toured part of a farm, met dogs, guinea pigs, and even a goat. I’ve made brief daily “visits” to a frightened patient in isolation on a COVID hospital unit and had the joy of celebrating the discharge to home. It’s odd to be in a bedroom with a patient, even virtually, and it is interesting to note where they choose to hold their sessions; I’ve had several patients hold sessions from their cars. Seeing my own image in the corner of the screen is also a bit distracting, and in one session, as I saw my own reaction, my patient said, “I knew you were going to make that face!”

The pandemic has usurped most of the activities of all of our lives, and without social interactions, travel, and work in the usual way, life does not hold its usual richness. Many patients have less to say fewer interpersonal strains, and I find myself asking more questions, working harder to fill sessions that used to fill themselves. In a few cases, I have ended the session after half the time as the patient insisted there was nothing to talk about. Many talk about the medical problems they can’t be seen for, what they are doing to keep safe (or not), how they are washing down their groceries, and who they are meeting with by Zoom. Of those who were terribly anxious before, some feel oddly calmer – the world has ramped up to meet their level of anxiety and they feel vindicated. No one thinks they are odd for worrying about germs on door knobs or elevator buttons. What were once neurotic fears are now our real-life reality. Others have been triggered by a paralyzing fear, often with panic attacks, and these sessions are certainly challenging as I figure out which medications will best help, while responding to requests for reassurance. And there is the troublesome aspect of trying to care for others who are fearful while living with the reality that these fears are not extraneous to our own lives: We, too, are scared for ourselves and our families.

For some people, stay-at-home mandates have been easier than for others. People who are naturally introverted, or those with social anxiety, have told me they find this time at home to be a relief. They no longer feel pressured to go out; there is permission to be alone, to read, or watch Netflix. No one is pressuring them to go to parties or look for a Tinder date. For others, the isolation and loneliness have been devastating, causing a range of emotions from being “stir crazy,” to triggering episodes of major depression and severe anxiety.

Health care workers in therapy talk about their fears of being contaminated with coronavirus, about the exposures they’ve had, their fears of bringing the virus home to family, and about the anger – sometimes rage – that their employers are not doing more to protect them.

Few people these past weeks are looking for insight into their patterns of behavior and emotion. Most of life has come to be about survival and not about personal striving. Students who are driven to excel are disappointed to have their scholastic worlds have switched to pass/fail. And for those struggling with milder forms of depression and anxiety, both the patients and I have all been a bit perplexed by losing the usual measures of what feelings are normal in a tragic world and we no longer use socializing as the hallmark that heralds a return to normalcy after a period of withdrawal.

In some aspects, it is not all been bad. I’ve enjoyed watching my neighbors walk by with their dogs through the window behind my computer screen and I’ve felt part of the daily evolution as the cherry tree outside that same window turns from dead brown wood to vibrant pink blossoms. I like the flexibility of my schedule and the sensation I always carry of being rushed has quelled. I take more walks and spend more time with the family members who are held captive with me. The dog, who no longer is left alone for hours each day, is certainly a winner.

Some of my colleagues tell me they are overwhelmed – patients they have not seen for years have returned, people are asking for more frequent sessions, and they are suddenly trying to work at home while homeschooling children. I have had only a few of those requests for crisis care, while new referrals are much quieter than normal. Some of my patients have even said that they simply aren’t comfortable meeting this way and they will see me at the other end of the pandemic. A few people I would have expected to hear from I have not, and I fear that those who have lost their jobs may avoiding the cost of treatment – this group I will reach out to in the coming weeks. A little extra time, however, has given me the opportunity to join the Johns Hopkins COVID-19 Mental Health team. And my first attempt at teaching a resident seminar by Zoom has gone well.

For some in the medical field, this has been a horrible and traumatic time; they are worked to exhaustion, and surrounded by distress, death, and personal fear with every shift. For others, life has come to a standstill as the elective procedures that fill their days have virtually stopped. For outpatient psychiatry, it’s been a bit of an in-between, we may feel an odd mix of relevant and useless all at the same time, as our services are appreciated by our patients, but as actual soldiers caring for the ill COVID patients, we are leaving that to our colleagues in the EDs, COVID units, and ICUs. As a physician who has not treated a patient in an ICU for decades, I wish I had something more concrete to contribute to the effort, and at the same time, I’m relieved that I don’t.

And what about the patients? How are they doing with remote psychiatry? Some are clearly flustered or frustrated by the technology issues. Other times sessions go smoothly, and the fact that we are talking through screens gets forgotten. Some like the convenience of not having to drive a far distance and no one misses my crowded parking lot.

Kristen, another doctor’s patient in Illinois, commented: “I appreciate the continuity in care, especially if the alternative is delaying appointments. I think that’s most important. The interaction helps manage added anxiety from isolating as well. I don’t think it diminishes the care I receive; it makes me feel that my doctor is still accessible. One other point, since I have had both telemedicine and in-person appointments with my current psychiatrist, is that during in-person meetings, he is usually on his computer and rarely looks at me or makes eye contact. In virtual meetings, I feel he is much more engaged with me.”

In normal times, I spend a good deal of time encouraging patients to work on building their relationships and community – these connections lead people to healthy and fulfilling lives – and now we talk about how to best be socially distant. We see each other as vectors of disease and to greet a friend with a handshake, much less a hug, would be unthinkable. Will our collective psyches ever recover? For those of us who will survive, that remains to be seen. In the meantime, perhaps we are all being forced to be more flexible and innovative.

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

It seems that some glitches would be inevitable. With a sudden shift to videoconferencing in private psychiatric practices, there were bound to be issues with both technology and privacy. One friend told me of such a glitch on the very first day she started telemental health: She was meeting with a patient who was sitting at her kitchen table. Unbeknownst to the patient, her husband walked into the kitchen behind her, fully naked, to get something from the refrigerator. “There was a full moon shot!” my friend said, initially quite shocked, and then eventually amused. As we all cope with a national tragedy and the total upheaval to our personal and professional lives, the stories just keep coming.

verbaska_studio/Getty Images

I left work on Friday, March 13, with plans to return on the following Monday to see patients. I had no idea that, by Sunday evening, I would be persuaded that for the safety of all I would need to shut down my real-life psychiatric practice and switch to a videoconferencing venue. I, along with many psychiatrists in Maryland, made this decision after Amy Huberman, MD, posted the following on the Maryland Psychiatric Society (MPS) listserv on Sunday, March 15:

“I want to make a case for starting video sessions with all your patients NOW. There is increasing evidence that the spread of coronavirus is driven primarily by asymptomatic or mildly ill people infected with the virus. Because of this, it’s not good enough to tell your patients not to come in if they have symptoms, or for you not to come into work if you have no symptoms. Even after I sent out a letter two weeks ago warning people not to come in if they had symptoms or had potentially come in contact with someone with COVID-19, several patients with coughs still came to my office, as well as several people who had just been on trips to New York City.

If we want to help slow the spread of this illness so that our health system has a better chance of being able to offer ventilators to the people who need them, we must limit all contacts as much as possible – even of asymptomatic people, given the emerging data.

I am planning to send out a message to all my patients today that they should do the same. Without the president or the media giving clear advice to people about what to do, it’s our job as physicians to do it.”

By that night, I had set up a home office with a blank wall behind me, windows in front of me, and books propping my computer at a height that would not have my patients looking up my nose. For the first time in over 20 years, I dusted my son’s Little League trophies, moved them and a 40,000 baseball card collection against the wall, carried a desk, chair, rug, houseplant, and a small Buddha into a room in which I would have some privacy, and my telepsychiatry practice found a home.

After some research, I registered for a free site called Doxy.me because it was HIPAA compliant and did not require patients to download an application; anyone with a camera on any Internet-enabled phone, computer, or tablet, could click on a link and enter my virtual waiting room. I soon discovered that images on the Doxy.me site are sometimes grainy and sometimes freeze up; in some sessions, we ended up switching to FaceTime, and as government mandates for HIPAA compliance relaxed, I offered to meet on any site that my patients might be comfortable with: if not Doxy.me (which remains my starting place for most sessions), Facetime, Skype, Zoom, or Whatsapp. I have not offered Bluejeans, Google Hangouts, or WebEx, and no one has requested those applications. I keep the phone next to the computer, and some sessions include a few minutes of tech support as I help patients (or they help me) navigate the various sites. In a few sessions, we could not get the audio to work and we used video on one venue while we talked on the phone. I haven’t figured out if the variations in the quality of the connection has to do with my Comcast connection, the fact that these websites are overloaded with users, or that my household now consists of three people, two large monitors, three laptops, two tablets, three cell phone lines (not to mention one dog and a transplanted cat), all going at the same time. The pets do not require any bandwidth, but all the people are talking to screens throughout the workday.

As my colleagues embarked on the same journey, the listserv questions and comments came quickly. What were the best platforms? Was it a good thing or a bad thing to suddenly be in people’s homes? Some felt the extraneous background to be helpful, others found it distracting and intrusive.

How do these sessions get coded for the purpose of billing? There was a tremendous amount of confusion over that, with the initial verdict being that Medicare wanted the place of service changed to “02” and that private insurers want one of two modifiers, and it was anyone’s guess which company wanted which modifier. Then there was the concern that Medicare was paying 25% less, until the MPS staff clarified that full fees would be paid, but the place of service should be filled in as “11” – not “02” – as with regular office visits, and the modifier “95” should be added on the Health Care Finance Administration claim form. We were left to wait and see what gets reimbursed and for what fees.

Could new patients be seen by videoconferencing? Could patients from other states be seen this way if the psychiatrist was not licensed in the state where the patient was calling from? One psychiatrist reported he had a patient in an adjacent state drive over the border into Maryland, but the patient brought her mother and the evaluation included unwanted input from the mom as the session consisted of the patient and her mother yelling at both each other in the car and at the psychiatrist on the screen!

Psychiatrists on the listserv began to comment that treatment sessions were intense and exhausting. I feel the literal face-to-face contact of another person’s head just inches from my own, with full eye contact, often gets to be a lot. No one asks why I’ve moved a trinket (ah, there are no trinkets) or gazes off around the room. I sometimes sit for long periods of time as I don’t even stand to see the patients to the door. Other patients move about or bounce their devices on their laps, and my stomach starts to feel queasy until I ask to have the device adjusted. In some sessions, I find I’m talking to partial heads, or that computer icons cover the patient’s mouth.

Being in people’s lives via screen has been interesting. Unlike my colleague, I have not had any streaking spouses, but I’ve greeted a few family members – often those serving as technical support – and I’ve toured part of a farm, met dogs, guinea pigs, and even a goat. I’ve made brief daily “visits” to a frightened patient in isolation on a COVID hospital unit and had the joy of celebrating the discharge to home. It’s odd to be in a bedroom with a patient, even virtually, and it is interesting to note where they choose to hold their sessions; I’ve had several patients hold sessions from their cars. Seeing my own image in the corner of the screen is also a bit distracting, and in one session, as I saw my own reaction, my patient said, “I knew you were going to make that face!”

The pandemic has usurped most of the activities of all of our lives, and without social interactions, travel, and work in the usual way, life does not hold its usual richness. Many patients have less to say fewer interpersonal strains, and I find myself asking more questions, working harder to fill sessions that used to fill themselves. In a few cases, I have ended the session after half the time as the patient insisted there was nothing to talk about. Many talk about the medical problems they can’t be seen for, what they are doing to keep safe (or not), how they are washing down their groceries, and who they are meeting with by Zoom. Of those who were terribly anxious before, some feel oddly calmer – the world has ramped up to meet their level of anxiety and they feel vindicated. No one thinks they are odd for worrying about germs on door knobs or elevator buttons. What were once neurotic fears are now our real-life reality. Others have been triggered by a paralyzing fear, often with panic attacks, and these sessions are certainly challenging as I figure out which medications will best help, while responding to requests for reassurance. And there is the troublesome aspect of trying to care for others who are fearful while living with the reality that these fears are not extraneous to our own lives: We, too, are scared for ourselves and our families.

For some people, stay-at-home mandates have been easier than for others. People who are naturally introverted, or those with social anxiety, have told me they find this time at home to be a relief. They no longer feel pressured to go out; there is permission to be alone, to read, or watch Netflix. No one is pressuring them to go to parties or look for a Tinder date. For others, the isolation and loneliness have been devastating, causing a range of emotions from being “stir crazy,” to triggering episodes of major depression and severe anxiety.

Health care workers in therapy talk about their fears of being contaminated with coronavirus, about the exposures they’ve had, their fears of bringing the virus home to family, and about the anger – sometimes rage – that their employers are not doing more to protect them.

Few people these past weeks are looking for insight into their patterns of behavior and emotion. Most of life has come to be about survival and not about personal striving. Students who are driven to excel are disappointed to have their scholastic worlds have switched to pass/fail. And for those struggling with milder forms of depression and anxiety, both the patients and I have all been a bit perplexed by losing the usual measures of what feelings are normal in a tragic world and we no longer use socializing as the hallmark that heralds a return to normalcy after a period of withdrawal.

In some aspects, it is not all been bad. I’ve enjoyed watching my neighbors walk by with their dogs through the window behind my computer screen and I’ve felt part of the daily evolution as the cherry tree outside that same window turns from dead brown wood to vibrant pink blossoms. I like the flexibility of my schedule and the sensation I always carry of being rushed has quelled. I take more walks and spend more time with the family members who are held captive with me. The dog, who no longer is left alone for hours each day, is certainly a winner.

Some of my colleagues tell me they are overwhelmed – patients they have not seen for years have returned, people are asking for more frequent sessions, and they are suddenly trying to work at home while homeschooling children. I have had only a few of those requests for crisis care, while new referrals are much quieter than normal. Some of my patients have even said that they simply aren’t comfortable meeting this way and they will see me at the other end of the pandemic. A few people I would have expected to hear from I have not, and I fear that those who have lost their jobs may avoiding the cost of treatment – this group I will reach out to in the coming weeks. A little extra time, however, has given me the opportunity to join the Johns Hopkins COVID-19 Mental Health team. And my first attempt at teaching a resident seminar by Zoom has gone well.

For some in the medical field, this has been a horrible and traumatic time; they are worked to exhaustion, and surrounded by distress, death, and personal fear with every shift. For others, life has come to a standstill as the elective procedures that fill their days have virtually stopped. For outpatient psychiatry, it’s been a bit of an in-between, we may feel an odd mix of relevant and useless all at the same time, as our services are appreciated by our patients, but as actual soldiers caring for the ill COVID patients, we are leaving that to our colleagues in the EDs, COVID units, and ICUs. As a physician who has not treated a patient in an ICU for decades, I wish I had something more concrete to contribute to the effort, and at the same time, I’m relieved that I don’t.

And what about the patients? How are they doing with remote psychiatry? Some are clearly flustered or frustrated by the technology issues. Other times sessions go smoothly, and the fact that we are talking through screens gets forgotten. Some like the convenience of not having to drive a far distance and no one misses my crowded parking lot.

Kristen, another doctor’s patient in Illinois, commented: “I appreciate the continuity in care, especially if the alternative is delaying appointments. I think that’s most important. The interaction helps manage added anxiety from isolating as well. I don’t think it diminishes the care I receive; it makes me feel that my doctor is still accessible. One other point, since I have had both telemedicine and in-person appointments with my current psychiatrist, is that during in-person meetings, he is usually on his computer and rarely looks at me or makes eye contact. In virtual meetings, I feel he is much more engaged with me.”

In normal times, I spend a good deal of time encouraging patients to work on building their relationships and community – these connections lead people to healthy and fulfilling lives – and now we talk about how to best be socially distant. We see each other as vectors of disease and to greet a friend with a handshake, much less a hug, would be unthinkable. Will our collective psyches ever recover? For those of us who will survive, that remains to be seen. In the meantime, perhaps we are all being forced to be more flexible and innovative.

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

A few weeks ago, I saw more than 60 responses to a post on Nextdoor.com entitled, “Toilet paper strategies?”

Asking for help is a great coping mechanism when one is struggling to find a strategy, even if it’s for toilet paper. What other kinds of coping strategies can help us through this historic and unprecedented time?

The late Stephen R. Covey, PhD, wrote about the coping strategies of highly effective people in his book, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.”¹ For, no matter how smart, perfect, or careful you may be, life will never be trouble free. When trouble comes, it’s important to have coping strategies that help you navigate through choppy waters. Whether you are a practitioner trying to help your patients or someone who wants to maximize their personal resilience during a worldwide pandemic, here are my conceptualizations of the seven top strategies highly effective people use when facing challenges.
 

Strategy #1: Begin with the end in mind

In 2007, this strategy helped me not only survive but thrive when I battled for my right to practice as a holistic psychiatrist against the Maryland Board of Physicians.² From the first moment when I read the letter from the board, to the last when I read the administrative law judge’s dismissal, I turned to this strategy to help me cope with unrelenting stress.

I imagined myself remembering being the kind of person I wanted to be, wrote that script for myself, and created those memories for my future self. I wanted to remember myself as being brave, calm, strong, and grounded, so I behaved each day as if I were all of those things.

As Dr. Covey wrote, “ ‘Begin with the end in mind’ is based on the principle that all things are created twice. There’s a mental or first creation, and a physical or second creation to all things.” Imagine who you would like to remember yourself being a year or two down the road. Do you want to remember yourself showing good judgment and being positive and compassionate during this pandemic? Then, follow the script you’ve created in your mind and be that person now, knowing that you are forming memories for your future self. Your future self will look back at who you are right now with appreciation and satisfaction. Of course, this is a habit that you can apply to your entire life.
 

Strategy #2: Be proactive

Between the event and the outcome is you. You are the interpreter and transformer of the event, with the freedom to apply your will and intention on the event. Whether it is living through a pandemic or dealing with misplaced keys, every day you are revealing your nature through how you deal with life. To be proactive is different from being reactive. Within each of us there is a will, the drive, to rise above our difficult environments.

Dr. Covey wrote, “the ability to subordinate an impulse to a value is the essence of the proactive person.” A woman shared with me that she created an Excel spreadsheet with some of the things she plans to do with her free time while she stays in her NYC apartment. She doesn’t want to slip into a passive state and waste her time. That’s being proactive.
 

Strategy #3: Set proper priorities

Or, as Dr. Covey would say, “Put first things first.” During a pandemic, when the world seems to be precariously tilting at an angle, it’s easy to cling to outdated standards, expectations, and behavioral patterns. Doing so heightens our sense of regret, fear, and scarcity. If you are value-centered, you can adapt to rapid changes and shift your expectations to reflect the current reality more easily. Valuing gratitude will empower you to deal with financial loss differently because you can still remain grateful despite uncontrollable losses. We can choose “to have or to be” as psychoanalyst, Erich Fromm, PhD, would say.³ If your happiness is measured by how much money you have, then it would make sense that, when the amount shrinks, so does your happiness. However, if your happiness is a side effect of who you are, you will remain a mountain before the winds and tides of circumstance.

Strategy #4: Create a win/win mentality

This state of mind is built on character. Dr. Covey separates character into three categories: integrity, maturity, and abundance mentality. A lack of character resulted in the hoarding of toilet paper in many communities and the cry for help from Nextdoor.com. I noticed that, in the 60+ responses that included advice about using bidets, old towels, and even leaves, no one offered to share a bag of toilet paper. That’s because people experienced the fear of scarcity, in turn, causing the scarcity they feared.

During a pandemic, a highly effective person or company thinks beyond themselves to create a win/win scenario. At a grocery store in my neighborhood, a man stands at its entrance with a bottle of disinfectant spray in one hand for the shoppers and a sign on the sidewalk with guidelines for purchasing products to avoid hoarding. He tells you where the wipes are for the carts as you enter the store. People line up 6 feet apart, waiting to enter, to limit the number of shoppers inside the store, facilitating proper physical distancing. Instead of maximizing profits at the expense of everyone’s health and safety, the process is a win/win for everyone, from shoppers to employees.
 

Strategy #5: Develop empathy and understanding

Seeking to first understand and then be understood is one of the most powerful tools of effective people. In my holistic practice, every patient comes in with their own unique needs that evolve and transform over time. I must remain open, or I fail to deliver appropriately.

Learning to listen and then to clearly communicate ideas is essential to effective health care. During this time, it is critical that health care providers and political leaders first listen/understand and then communicate clearly to serve everyone in the best way possible.

In our brains, the frontal lobes (the adult in the room) manages our amygdala (the child in the room) when we get enough sleep, meditate, spend time in nature, exercise, and eat healthy food.⁴ Stress can interfere with the frontal lobe’s ability to maintain empathy, inhibit unhealthy impulses, and delay gratification. During the pandemic, we can help to shift from the stress response, or “fight-or-flight” response, driven by the sympathetic nervous system to a “rest-and-digest” response driven by the parasympathetic system through coherent breathing, taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths (6 seconds on inhalation and 6 seconds on exhalation). The vagus nerve connected to our diaphragm will help the heart return to a healthy rhythm.⁵

Strategy #6: Synergize and integrate

All of life is interdependent, each part no more or less important than any other. Is oxygen more important than hydrogen? Is H₂O different from the oxygen and hydrogen atoms that make it?

During a pandemic, it’s important for us to appreciate each other’s contributions and work synergistically for the good of the whole. Our survival depends on valuing each other and our planet. This perspective informs the practice of physical distancing and staying home to minimize the spread of the virus and its impact on the health care system, regardless of whether an individual belongs in the high-risk group or not.

Many high-achieving people train in extremely competitive settings in which survival depends on individual performance rather than mutual cooperation. This training process encourages a disregard for others. Good leaders, however, understand that cooperation and mutual respect are essential to personal well-being.
 

Strategy #7: Practice self-care

There are five aspects of our lives that depend on our self-care: spiritual, mental, emotional, physical, and social. Unfortunately, many kind-hearted people are kinder to others than to themselves. There is really only one person who can truly take care of you properly, and that is yourself. In Seattle, where many suffered early in the pandemic, holistic psychiatrist David Kopacz, MD, is reminding people to nurture themselves in his post, “Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes!”⁶ Indeed, that is what many must do since eating out is not an option now. If you find yourself stuck at home with more time on your hands, take the opportunity to care for yourself. Ask yourself what you really need during this time, and make the effort to provide it to yourself.

After the pandemic is over, will you have grown from the experiences and become a better person from it? Despite our current circumstances, we can continue to grow as individuals and as a community, armed with strategies that can benefit all of us.

References

1. Covey SR. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. New York: Simon & Schuster; 1989.

2. Lee AW. Townsend Letter. 2009 Jun;311:22-3.

3. Fromm E. To Have or To Be? New York: Continuum International Publishing; 2005.

4. Rushlau K. Integrative Healthcare Symposium. 2020 Feb 21.

5. Gerbarg PL. Mind Body Practices for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Presentation at Integrative Medicine for Mental Health Conference. 2016 Sep.

6. Kopacz D. Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes! Being Fully Human. 2020 Mar 22.

Dr. Lee specializes in integrative and holistic psychiatry and has a private practice in Gaithersburg, Md. She has no disclosures.




 

A few weeks ago, I saw more than 60 responses to a post on Nextdoor.com entitled, “Toilet paper strategies?”

Asking for help is a great coping mechanism when one is struggling to find a strategy, even if it’s for toilet paper. What other kinds of coping strategies can help us through this historic and unprecedented time?

The late Stephen R. Covey, PhD, wrote about the coping strategies of highly effective people in his book, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.”¹ For, no matter how smart, perfect, or careful you may be, life will never be trouble free. When trouble comes, it’s important to have coping strategies that help you navigate through choppy waters. Whether you are a practitioner trying to help your patients or someone who wants to maximize their personal resilience during a worldwide pandemic, here are my conceptualizations of the seven top strategies highly effective people use when facing challenges.
 

Strategy #1: Begin with the end in mind

In 2007, this strategy helped me not only survive but thrive when I battled for my right to practice as a holistic psychiatrist against the Maryland Board of Physicians.² From the first moment when I read the letter from the board, to the last when I read the administrative law judge’s dismissal, I turned to this strategy to help me cope with unrelenting stress.

I imagined myself remembering being the kind of person I wanted to be, wrote that script for myself, and created those memories for my future self. I wanted to remember myself as being brave, calm, strong, and grounded, so I behaved each day as if I were all of those things.

As Dr. Covey wrote, “ ‘Begin with the end in mind’ is based on the principle that all things are created twice. There’s a mental or first creation, and a physical or second creation to all things.” Imagine who you would like to remember yourself being a year or two down the road. Do you want to remember yourself showing good judgment and being positive and compassionate during this pandemic? Then, follow the script you’ve created in your mind and be that person now, knowing that you are forming memories for your future self. Your future self will look back at who you are right now with appreciation and satisfaction. Of course, this is a habit that you can apply to your entire life.
 

Strategy #2: Be proactive

Between the event and the outcome is you. You are the interpreter and transformer of the event, with the freedom to apply your will and intention on the event. Whether it is living through a pandemic or dealing with misplaced keys, every day you are revealing your nature through how you deal with life. To be proactive is different from being reactive. Within each of us there is a will, the drive, to rise above our difficult environments.

Dr. Covey wrote, “the ability to subordinate an impulse to a value is the essence of the proactive person.” A woman shared with me that she created an Excel spreadsheet with some of the things she plans to do with her free time while she stays in her NYC apartment. She doesn’t want to slip into a passive state and waste her time. That’s being proactive.
 

Strategy #3: Set proper priorities

Or, as Dr. Covey would say, “Put first things first.” During a pandemic, when the world seems to be precariously tilting at an angle, it’s easy to cling to outdated standards, expectations, and behavioral patterns. Doing so heightens our sense of regret, fear, and scarcity. If you are value-centered, you can adapt to rapid changes and shift your expectations to reflect the current reality more easily. Valuing gratitude will empower you to deal with financial loss differently because you can still remain grateful despite uncontrollable losses. We can choose “to have or to be” as psychoanalyst, Erich Fromm, PhD, would say.³ If your happiness is measured by how much money you have, then it would make sense that, when the amount shrinks, so does your happiness. However, if your happiness is a side effect of who you are, you will remain a mountain before the winds and tides of circumstance.

Strategy #4: Create a win/win mentality

This state of mind is built on character. Dr. Covey separates character into three categories: integrity, maturity, and abundance mentality. A lack of character resulted in the hoarding of toilet paper in many communities and the cry for help from Nextdoor.com. I noticed that, in the 60+ responses that included advice about using bidets, old towels, and even leaves, no one offered to share a bag of toilet paper. That’s because people experienced the fear of scarcity, in turn, causing the scarcity they feared.

During a pandemic, a highly effective person or company thinks beyond themselves to create a win/win scenario. At a grocery store in my neighborhood, a man stands at its entrance with a bottle of disinfectant spray in one hand for the shoppers and a sign on the sidewalk with guidelines for purchasing products to avoid hoarding. He tells you where the wipes are for the carts as you enter the store. People line up 6 feet apart, waiting to enter, to limit the number of shoppers inside the store, facilitating proper physical distancing. Instead of maximizing profits at the expense of everyone’s health and safety, the process is a win/win for everyone, from shoppers to employees.
 

Strategy #5: Develop empathy and understanding

Seeking to first understand and then be understood is one of the most powerful tools of effective people. In my holistic practice, every patient comes in with their own unique needs that evolve and transform over time. I must remain open, or I fail to deliver appropriately.

Learning to listen and then to clearly communicate ideas is essential to effective health care. During this time, it is critical that health care providers and political leaders first listen/understand and then communicate clearly to serve everyone in the best way possible.

In our brains, the frontal lobes (the adult in the room) manages our amygdala (the child in the room) when we get enough sleep, meditate, spend time in nature, exercise, and eat healthy food.⁴ Stress can interfere with the frontal lobe’s ability to maintain empathy, inhibit unhealthy impulses, and delay gratification. During the pandemic, we can help to shift from the stress response, or “fight-or-flight” response, driven by the sympathetic nervous system to a “rest-and-digest” response driven by the parasympathetic system through coherent breathing, taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths (6 seconds on inhalation and 6 seconds on exhalation). The vagus nerve connected to our diaphragm will help the heart return to a healthy rhythm.⁵

Strategy #6: Synergize and integrate

All of life is interdependent, each part no more or less important than any other. Is oxygen more important than hydrogen? Is H₂O different from the oxygen and hydrogen atoms that make it?

During a pandemic, it’s important for us to appreciate each other’s contributions and work synergistically for the good of the whole. Our survival depends on valuing each other and our planet. This perspective informs the practice of physical distancing and staying home to minimize the spread of the virus and its impact on the health care system, regardless of whether an individual belongs in the high-risk group or not.

Many high-achieving people train in extremely competitive settings in which survival depends on individual performance rather than mutual cooperation. This training process encourages a disregard for others. Good leaders, however, understand that cooperation and mutual respect are essential to personal well-being.
 

Strategy #7: Practice self-care

There are five aspects of our lives that depend on our self-care: spiritual, mental, emotional, physical, and social. Unfortunately, many kind-hearted people are kinder to others than to themselves. There is really only one person who can truly take care of you properly, and that is yourself. In Seattle, where many suffered early in the pandemic, holistic psychiatrist David Kopacz, MD, is reminding people to nurture themselves in his post, “Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes!”⁶ Indeed, that is what many must do since eating out is not an option now. If you find yourself stuck at home with more time on your hands, take the opportunity to care for yourself. Ask yourself what you really need during this time, and make the effort to provide it to yourself.

After the pandemic is over, will you have grown from the experiences and become a better person from it? Despite our current circumstances, we can continue to grow as individuals and as a community, armed with strategies that can benefit all of us.

References

1. Covey SR. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. New York: Simon & Schuster; 1989.

2. Lee AW. Townsend Letter. 2009 Jun;311:22-3.

3. Fromm E. To Have or To Be? New York: Continuum International Publishing; 2005.

4. Rushlau K. Integrative Healthcare Symposium. 2020 Feb 21.

5. Gerbarg PL. Mind Body Practices for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Presentation at Integrative Medicine for Mental Health Conference. 2016 Sep.

6. Kopacz D. Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes! Being Fully Human. 2020 Mar 22.

Dr. Lee specializes in integrative and holistic psychiatry and has a private practice in Gaithersburg, Md. She has no disclosures.




 

A few weeks ago, I saw more than 60 responses to a post on Nextdoor.com entitled, “Toilet paper strategies?”

Asking for help is a great coping mechanism when one is struggling to find a strategy, even if it’s for toilet paper. What other kinds of coping strategies can help us through this historic and unprecedented time?

The late Stephen R. Covey, PhD, wrote about the coping strategies of highly effective people in his book, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.”¹ For, no matter how smart, perfect, or careful you may be, life will never be trouble free. When trouble comes, it’s important to have coping strategies that help you navigate through choppy waters. Whether you are a practitioner trying to help your patients or someone who wants to maximize their personal resilience during a worldwide pandemic, here are my conceptualizations of the seven top strategies highly effective people use when facing challenges.
 

Strategy #1: Begin with the end in mind

In 2007, this strategy helped me not only survive but thrive when I battled for my right to practice as a holistic psychiatrist against the Maryland Board of Physicians.² From the first moment when I read the letter from the board, to the last when I read the administrative law judge’s dismissal, I turned to this strategy to help me cope with unrelenting stress.

I imagined myself remembering being the kind of person I wanted to be, wrote that script for myself, and created those memories for my future self. I wanted to remember myself as being brave, calm, strong, and grounded, so I behaved each day as if I were all of those things.

As Dr. Covey wrote, “ ‘Begin with the end in mind’ is based on the principle that all things are created twice. There’s a mental or first creation, and a physical or second creation to all things.” Imagine who you would like to remember yourself being a year or two down the road. Do you want to remember yourself showing good judgment and being positive and compassionate during this pandemic? Then, follow the script you’ve created in your mind and be that person now, knowing that you are forming memories for your future self. Your future self will look back at who you are right now with appreciation and satisfaction. Of course, this is a habit that you can apply to your entire life.
 

Strategy #2: Be proactive

Between the event and the outcome is you. You are the interpreter and transformer of the event, with the freedom to apply your will and intention on the event. Whether it is living through a pandemic or dealing with misplaced keys, every day you are revealing your nature through how you deal with life. To be proactive is different from being reactive. Within each of us there is a will, the drive, to rise above our difficult environments.

Dr. Covey wrote, “the ability to subordinate an impulse to a value is the essence of the proactive person.” A woman shared with me that she created an Excel spreadsheet with some of the things she plans to do with her free time while she stays in her NYC apartment. She doesn’t want to slip into a passive state and waste her time. That’s being proactive.
 

Strategy #3: Set proper priorities

Or, as Dr. Covey would say, “Put first things first.” During a pandemic, when the world seems to be precariously tilting at an angle, it’s easy to cling to outdated standards, expectations, and behavioral patterns. Doing so heightens our sense of regret, fear, and scarcity. If you are value-centered, you can adapt to rapid changes and shift your expectations to reflect the current reality more easily. Valuing gratitude will empower you to deal with financial loss differently because you can still remain grateful despite uncontrollable losses. We can choose “to have or to be” as psychoanalyst, Erich Fromm, PhD, would say.³ If your happiness is measured by how much money you have, then it would make sense that, when the amount shrinks, so does your happiness. However, if your happiness is a side effect of who you are, you will remain a mountain before the winds and tides of circumstance.

Strategy #4: Create a win/win mentality

This state of mind is built on character. Dr. Covey separates character into three categories: integrity, maturity, and abundance mentality. A lack of character resulted in the hoarding of toilet paper in many communities and the cry for help from Nextdoor.com. I noticed that, in the 60+ responses that included advice about using bidets, old towels, and even leaves, no one offered to share a bag of toilet paper. That’s because people experienced the fear of scarcity, in turn, causing the scarcity they feared.

During a pandemic, a highly effective person or company thinks beyond themselves to create a win/win scenario. At a grocery store in my neighborhood, a man stands at its entrance with a bottle of disinfectant spray in one hand for the shoppers and a sign on the sidewalk with guidelines for purchasing products to avoid hoarding. He tells you where the wipes are for the carts as you enter the store. People line up 6 feet apart, waiting to enter, to limit the number of shoppers inside the store, facilitating proper physical distancing. Instead of maximizing profits at the expense of everyone’s health and safety, the process is a win/win for everyone, from shoppers to employees.
 

Strategy #5: Develop empathy and understanding

Seeking to first understand and then be understood is one of the most powerful tools of effective people. In my holistic practice, every patient comes in with their own unique needs that evolve and transform over time. I must remain open, or I fail to deliver appropriately.

Learning to listen and then to clearly communicate ideas is essential to effective health care. During this time, it is critical that health care providers and political leaders first listen/understand and then communicate clearly to serve everyone in the best way possible.

In our brains, the frontal lobes (the adult in the room) manages our amygdala (the child in the room) when we get enough sleep, meditate, spend time in nature, exercise, and eat healthy food.⁴ Stress can interfere with the frontal lobe’s ability to maintain empathy, inhibit unhealthy impulses, and delay gratification. During the pandemic, we can help to shift from the stress response, or “fight-or-flight” response, driven by the sympathetic nervous system to a “rest-and-digest” response driven by the parasympathetic system through coherent breathing, taking slow, deep, relaxed breaths (6 seconds on inhalation and 6 seconds on exhalation). The vagus nerve connected to our diaphragm will help the heart return to a healthy rhythm.⁵

Strategy #6: Synergize and integrate

All of life is interdependent, each part no more or less important than any other. Is oxygen more important than hydrogen? Is H₂O different from the oxygen and hydrogen atoms that make it?

During a pandemic, it’s important for us to appreciate each other’s contributions and work synergistically for the good of the whole. Our survival depends on valuing each other and our planet. This perspective informs the practice of physical distancing and staying home to minimize the spread of the virus and its impact on the health care system, regardless of whether an individual belongs in the high-risk group or not.

Many high-achieving people train in extremely competitive settings in which survival depends on individual performance rather than mutual cooperation. This training process encourages a disregard for others. Good leaders, however, understand that cooperation and mutual respect are essential to personal well-being.
 

Strategy #7: Practice self-care

There are five aspects of our lives that depend on our self-care: spiritual, mental, emotional, physical, and social. Unfortunately, many kind-hearted people are kinder to others than to themselves. There is really only one person who can truly take care of you properly, and that is yourself. In Seattle, where many suffered early in the pandemic, holistic psychiatrist David Kopacz, MD, is reminding people to nurture themselves in his post, “Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes!”⁶ Indeed, that is what many must do since eating out is not an option now. If you find yourself stuck at home with more time on your hands, take the opportunity to care for yourself. Ask yourself what you really need during this time, and make the effort to provide it to yourself.

After the pandemic is over, will you have grown from the experiences and become a better person from it? Despite our current circumstances, we can continue to grow as individuals and as a community, armed with strategies that can benefit all of us.

References

1. Covey SR. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. New York: Simon & Schuster; 1989.

2. Lee AW. Townsend Letter. 2009 Jun;311:22-3.

3. Fromm E. To Have or To Be? New York: Continuum International Publishing; 2005.

4. Rushlau K. Integrative Healthcare Symposium. 2020 Feb 21.

5. Gerbarg PL. Mind Body Practices for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Presentation at Integrative Medicine for Mental Health Conference. 2016 Sep.

6. Kopacz D. Nurture Yourself During the Pandemic: Try New Recipes! Being Fully Human. 2020 Mar 22.

Dr. Lee specializes in integrative and holistic psychiatry and has a private practice in Gaithersburg, Md. She has no disclosures.




 

In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center, the public mental health system in the New York City area mounted the largest mental health disaster response in history. I was New York City’s mental health commissioner at the time. We called the initiative Project Liberty and over 3 years obtained $137 million in funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to support it.

Through Project Liberty, New York established the Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training Program (CCP). And it didn’t take us long to realize that what affected people need following a disaster is not necessarily psychotherapy, as might be expected, but in fact crisis counseling, or helping impacted individuals and their families regain control of their anxieties and effectively respond to an immediate disaster. This proved true not only after 9/11 but also after other recent disasters, including hurricanes Katrina and Sandy. The mental health system must now step up again to assuage fears and anxieties—both individual and collective—around the rapidly spreading COVID-19 pandemic.
 

So, what is crisis counseling?

A person’s usual adaptive, problem-solving capabilities are often compromised after a disaster, but they are there, and if accessed, they can help those afflicted with mental symptoms following a crisis to mentally endure. Ensuring safety and promoting return to functioning, as well as being informed about immediately available resources, are the central objectives of crisis counseling, thereby making it a different approach from traditional psychotherapy.

The five key concepts in crisis counseling are:

• It is strength-based, which means its foundation is rooted in the assumption that resilience and competence are innate human qualities.
• Crisis counseling also employs anonymity. Impacted individuals should not be diagnosed or labeled. As a result, there are no resulting medical records.
• The approach is outreach-oriented, in which counselors provide services out in the community rather than in traditional mental health settings. This occurs primarily in homes, community centers, and settings, as well as in disaster shelters.
• It is culturally attuned, whereby all staff appreciate and respect a community’s cultural beliefs, values, and primary language.
• It is aimed at supporting, not replacing, existing community support systems (eg, a crisis counselor supports but does not organize, deliver, or manage community recovery activities).

Crisis counselors are required to be licensed psychologists or have obtained a bachelor’s degree or higher in psychology, human services, or another health-related field. In other words, crisis counseling draws on a broad, though related, group of individuals. Before deployment into a disaster area, an applicant must complete the FEMA Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training, which is offered in the disaster area by the FEMA-funded CCP.

Crisis counselors provide trustworthy and actionable information about the disaster at hand and where to turn for resources and assistance. They assist with emotional support. And they aim to educate individuals, families, and communities about how to be resilient.

Crisis counseling, however, may not suffice for everyone impacted. We know that a person’s severity of response to a crisis is highly associated with the intensity and duration of exposure to the disaster (especially when it is life-threatening) and/or the degree of a person’s serious loss (of a loved one, home, job, health). We also know that previous trauma (eg, from childhood, domestic violence, or forced immigration) also predicts the gravity of the response to a current crisis. Which is why crisis counselors also are taught to identify those experiencing significant and persistent mental health and addiction problems because they need to be assisted, literally, in obtaining professional treatment.

Only in recent years has trauma been a recognized driver of stress, distress, and mental and addictive disorders. Until relatively recently, skill with, and access to, crisis counseling—and trauma-informed care—was rare among New York’s large and talented mental health professional community. Few had been trained in it in graduate school or practiced it because New York had been spared a disaster on par with 9/11. Following the attacks, Project Liberty’s programs served nearly 1.5 million affected individuals of very diverse ages, races, cultural backgrounds, and socioeconomic status. Their levels of “psychological distress,” the term we used and measured, ranged from low to very high.

The coronavirus pandemic now presents us with a tragically similar, catastrophic moment. The human consequences we face—psychologically, economically, and socially—are just beginning. But this time, the need is not just in New York but throughout our country.

We humans are resilient. We can bend the arc of crisis toward the light, to recovering our existing but overwhelmed capabilities. We can achieve this in a variety of ways. We can practice self-care. This isn’t an act of selfishness but is rather like putting on your own oxygen mask before trying to help your friend or loved one do the same. We can stay connected to the people we care about. We can eat well, get sufficient sleep, take a walk.

Identifying and pursuing practical goals is also important, like obtaining food, housing that is safe and reliable, transportation to where you need to go, and drawing upon financial and other resources that are issued in a disaster area. We can practice positive thinking and recall how we’ve mastered our troubles in the past; we can remind ourselves that “this too will pass.” Crises create an unusually opportune time for change and self-discovery. As Churchill said to the British people in the darkest moments of the start of World War II, “Never give up.”

Worthy of its own itemization are spiritual beliefs, faith—that however we think about a higher power (religious or secular), that power is on our side. Faith can comfort and sustain hope, particularly at a time when doubt about ourselves and humanity is triggered by disaster.

Maya Angelou’s words remind us at this moment of disaster: “...let us try to help before we have to offer therapy. That is to say, let’s see if we can’t prevent being ill by trying to offer a love of prevention before illness.”

Dr. Sederer is the former chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health and an adjunct professor in the Department of Epidemiology at the Columbia University School of Public Health. His latest book is The Addiction Solution: Treating Our Dependence on Opioids and Other Drugs.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center, the public mental health system in the New York City area mounted the largest mental health disaster response in history. I was New York City’s mental health commissioner at the time. We called the initiative Project Liberty and over 3 years obtained $137 million in funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to support it.

Through Project Liberty, New York established the Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training Program (CCP). And it didn’t take us long to realize that what affected people need following a disaster is not necessarily psychotherapy, as might be expected, but in fact crisis counseling, or helping impacted individuals and their families regain control of their anxieties and effectively respond to an immediate disaster. This proved true not only after 9/11 but also after other recent disasters, including hurricanes Katrina and Sandy. The mental health system must now step up again to assuage fears and anxieties—both individual and collective—around the rapidly spreading COVID-19 pandemic.
 

So, what is crisis counseling?

A person’s usual adaptive, problem-solving capabilities are often compromised after a disaster, but they are there, and if accessed, they can help those afflicted with mental symptoms following a crisis to mentally endure. Ensuring safety and promoting return to functioning, as well as being informed about immediately available resources, are the central objectives of crisis counseling, thereby making it a different approach from traditional psychotherapy.

The five key concepts in crisis counseling are:

• It is strength-based, which means its foundation is rooted in the assumption that resilience and competence are innate human qualities.
• Crisis counseling also employs anonymity. Impacted individuals should not be diagnosed or labeled. As a result, there are no resulting medical records.
• The approach is outreach-oriented, in which counselors provide services out in the community rather than in traditional mental health settings. This occurs primarily in homes, community centers, and settings, as well as in disaster shelters.
• It is culturally attuned, whereby all staff appreciate and respect a community’s cultural beliefs, values, and primary language.
• It is aimed at supporting, not replacing, existing community support systems (eg, a crisis counselor supports but does not organize, deliver, or manage community recovery activities).

Crisis counselors are required to be licensed psychologists or have obtained a bachelor’s degree or higher in psychology, human services, or another health-related field. In other words, crisis counseling draws on a broad, though related, group of individuals. Before deployment into a disaster area, an applicant must complete the FEMA Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training, which is offered in the disaster area by the FEMA-funded CCP.

Crisis counselors provide trustworthy and actionable information about the disaster at hand and where to turn for resources and assistance. They assist with emotional support. And they aim to educate individuals, families, and communities about how to be resilient.

Crisis counseling, however, may not suffice for everyone impacted. We know that a person’s severity of response to a crisis is highly associated with the intensity and duration of exposure to the disaster (especially when it is life-threatening) and/or the degree of a person’s serious loss (of a loved one, home, job, health). We also know that previous trauma (eg, from childhood, domestic violence, or forced immigration) also predicts the gravity of the response to a current crisis. Which is why crisis counselors also are taught to identify those experiencing significant and persistent mental health and addiction problems because they need to be assisted, literally, in obtaining professional treatment.

Only in recent years has trauma been a recognized driver of stress, distress, and mental and addictive disorders. Until relatively recently, skill with, and access to, crisis counseling—and trauma-informed care—was rare among New York’s large and talented mental health professional community. Few had been trained in it in graduate school or practiced it because New York had been spared a disaster on par with 9/11. Following the attacks, Project Liberty’s programs served nearly 1.5 million affected individuals of very diverse ages, races, cultural backgrounds, and socioeconomic status. Their levels of “psychological distress,” the term we used and measured, ranged from low to very high.

The coronavirus pandemic now presents us with a tragically similar, catastrophic moment. The human consequences we face—psychologically, economically, and socially—are just beginning. But this time, the need is not just in New York but throughout our country.

We humans are resilient. We can bend the arc of crisis toward the light, to recovering our existing but overwhelmed capabilities. We can achieve this in a variety of ways. We can practice self-care. This isn’t an act of selfishness but is rather like putting on your own oxygen mask before trying to help your friend or loved one do the same. We can stay connected to the people we care about. We can eat well, get sufficient sleep, take a walk.

Identifying and pursuing practical goals is also important, like obtaining food, housing that is safe and reliable, transportation to where you need to go, and drawing upon financial and other resources that are issued in a disaster area. We can practice positive thinking and recall how we’ve mastered our troubles in the past; we can remind ourselves that “this too will pass.” Crises create an unusually opportune time for change and self-discovery. As Churchill said to the British people in the darkest moments of the start of World War II, “Never give up.”

Worthy of its own itemization are spiritual beliefs, faith—that however we think about a higher power (religious or secular), that power is on our side. Faith can comfort and sustain hope, particularly at a time when doubt about ourselves and humanity is triggered by disaster.

Maya Angelou’s words remind us at this moment of disaster: “...let us try to help before we have to offer therapy. That is to say, let’s see if we can’t prevent being ill by trying to offer a love of prevention before illness.”

Dr. Sederer is the former chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health and an adjunct professor in the Department of Epidemiology at the Columbia University School of Public Health. His latest book is The Addiction Solution: Treating Our Dependence on Opioids and Other Drugs.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In the wake of the attacks on the World Trade Center, the public mental health system in the New York City area mounted the largest mental health disaster response in history. I was New York City’s mental health commissioner at the time. We called the initiative Project Liberty and over 3 years obtained $137 million in funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to support it.

Through Project Liberty, New York established the Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training Program (CCP). And it didn’t take us long to realize that what affected people need following a disaster is not necessarily psychotherapy, as might be expected, but in fact crisis counseling, or helping impacted individuals and their families regain control of their anxieties and effectively respond to an immediate disaster. This proved true not only after 9/11 but also after other recent disasters, including hurricanes Katrina and Sandy. The mental health system must now step up again to assuage fears and anxieties—both individual and collective—around the rapidly spreading COVID-19 pandemic.
 

So, what is crisis counseling?

A person’s usual adaptive, problem-solving capabilities are often compromised after a disaster, but they are there, and if accessed, they can help those afflicted with mental symptoms following a crisis to mentally endure. Ensuring safety and promoting return to functioning, as well as being informed about immediately available resources, are the central objectives of crisis counseling, thereby making it a different approach from traditional psychotherapy.

The five key concepts in crisis counseling are:

• It is strength-based, which means its foundation is rooted in the assumption that resilience and competence are innate human qualities.
• Crisis counseling also employs anonymity. Impacted individuals should not be diagnosed or labeled. As a result, there are no resulting medical records.
• The approach is outreach-oriented, in which counselors provide services out in the community rather than in traditional mental health settings. This occurs primarily in homes, community centers, and settings, as well as in disaster shelters.
• It is culturally attuned, whereby all staff appreciate and respect a community’s cultural beliefs, values, and primary language.
• It is aimed at supporting, not replacing, existing community support systems (eg, a crisis counselor supports but does not organize, deliver, or manage community recovery activities).

Crisis counselors are required to be licensed psychologists or have obtained a bachelor’s degree or higher in psychology, human services, or another health-related field. In other words, crisis counseling draws on a broad, though related, group of individuals. Before deployment into a disaster area, an applicant must complete the FEMA Crisis Counseling Assistance and Training, which is offered in the disaster area by the FEMA-funded CCP.

Crisis counselors provide trustworthy and actionable information about the disaster at hand and where to turn for resources and assistance. They assist with emotional support. And they aim to educate individuals, families, and communities about how to be resilient.

Crisis counseling, however, may not suffice for everyone impacted. We know that a person’s severity of response to a crisis is highly associated with the intensity and duration of exposure to the disaster (especially when it is life-threatening) and/or the degree of a person’s serious loss (of a loved one, home, job, health). We also know that previous trauma (eg, from childhood, domestic violence, or forced immigration) also predicts the gravity of the response to a current crisis. Which is why crisis counselors also are taught to identify those experiencing significant and persistent mental health and addiction problems because they need to be assisted, literally, in obtaining professional treatment.

Only in recent years has trauma been a recognized driver of stress, distress, and mental and addictive disorders. Until relatively recently, skill with, and access to, crisis counseling—and trauma-informed care—was rare among New York’s large and talented mental health professional community. Few had been trained in it in graduate school or practiced it because New York had been spared a disaster on par with 9/11. Following the attacks, Project Liberty’s programs served nearly 1.5 million affected individuals of very diverse ages, races, cultural backgrounds, and socioeconomic status. Their levels of “psychological distress,” the term we used and measured, ranged from low to very high.

The coronavirus pandemic now presents us with a tragically similar, catastrophic moment. The human consequences we face—psychologically, economically, and socially—are just beginning. But this time, the need is not just in New York but throughout our country.

We humans are resilient. We can bend the arc of crisis toward the light, to recovering our existing but overwhelmed capabilities. We can achieve this in a variety of ways. We can practice self-care. This isn’t an act of selfishness but is rather like putting on your own oxygen mask before trying to help your friend or loved one do the same. We can stay connected to the people we care about. We can eat well, get sufficient sleep, take a walk.

Identifying and pursuing practical goals is also important, like obtaining food, housing that is safe and reliable, transportation to where you need to go, and drawing upon financial and other resources that are issued in a disaster area. We can practice positive thinking and recall how we’ve mastered our troubles in the past; we can remind ourselves that “this too will pass.” Crises create an unusually opportune time for change and self-discovery. As Churchill said to the British people in the darkest moments of the start of World War II, “Never give up.”

Worthy of its own itemization are spiritual beliefs, faith—that however we think about a higher power (religious or secular), that power is on our side. Faith can comfort and sustain hope, particularly at a time when doubt about ourselves and humanity is triggered by disaster.

Maya Angelou’s words remind us at this moment of disaster: “...let us try to help before we have to offer therapy. That is to say, let’s see if we can’t prevent being ill by trying to offer a love of prevention before illness.”

Dr. Sederer is the former chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health and an adjunct professor in the Department of Epidemiology at the Columbia University School of Public Health. His latest book is The Addiction Solution: Treating Our Dependence on Opioids and Other Drugs.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

When Judith Salerno, MD, heard that New York was calling for volunteer clinicians to assist with the COVID-19 response, she didn’t hesitate to sign up.

Although Dr. Salerno, 68, has held administrative, research, and policy roles for 25 years, she has kept her medical license active and always found ways to squeeze some clinical work into her busy schedule.

“I have what I could consider ‘rusty’ clinical skills, but pretty good clinical judgment,” said Dr. Salerno, president of the New York Academy of Medicine. “I thought in this situation that I could resurrect and hone those skills, even if it was just taking care of routine patients and working on a team, there was a lot of good I can do.”

Dr. Salerno is among 80,000 health care professionals who have volunteered to work temporarily in New York during the COVID-19 pandemic as of March 31, 2020, according to New York state officials. In mid-March, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo (D) issued a plea for retired physicians and nurses to help the state by signing up for on-call work. Other states have made similar appeals for retired health care professionals to return to medicine in an effort to relieve overwhelmed hospital staffs and aid capacity if health care workers become ill. Such redeployments, however, are raising concerns about exposing senior physicians to a virus that causes more severe illness in individuals aged over 65 years and kills them at a higher rate.

At the same time, a significant portion of the current health care workforce is aged 55 years and older, placing them at higher risk for serious illness, hospitalization, and death from COVID-19, said Douglas O. Staiger, PhD, a researcher and economics professor at Dartmouth College, Hanover, N.H. Dr. Staiger recently coauthored a viewpoint in JAMA called “Older clinicians and the surge in novel coronavirus disease 2019,” which outlines the risks and mortality rates from the novel coronavirus among patients aged 55 years and older.

Protecting staff, screening volunteers

Hematologist-oncologist David H. Henry, MD, said his eight-physician group practice at Pennsylvania Hospital, Philadelphia, has already taken steps to protect him from COVID exposure.

At the request of his younger colleagues, Dr. Henry, 69, said he is no longer seeing patients in the hospital where there is increased exposure risk to the virus. He and the staff also limit their time in the office to 2-3 days a week and practice telemedicine the rest of the week, Dr. Henry said in an interview.

“Whether you’re a person trying to stay at home because you’re quote ‘nonessential,’ or you’re a health care worker and you have to keep seeing patients to some extent, the less we’re face to face with others the better,” said Dr. Henry, who hosts the Blood & Cancer podcast for MDedge News. “There’s an extreme and a middle ground. If they told me just to stay home that wouldn’t help anybody. If they said, ‘business as usual,’ that would be wrong. This is a middle strategy, which is reasonable, rational, and will help dial this dangerous time down as fast as possible.”

On a recent weekend when Dr. Henry would normally have been on call in the hospital, he took phone calls for his colleagues at home while they saw patients in the hospital. This included calls with patients who had questions and consultation calls with other physicians.

“They are helping me and I am helping them,” Dr. Henry said. “Taking those calls makes it easier for my partners to see all those patients. We all want to help and be there, within reason. You want to step up an do your job, but you want to be safe.”

Peter D. Quinn, DMD, MD, chief executive physician of the Penn Medicine Medical Group, said safeguarding the health of its workforce is a top priority as Penn Medicine works to fight the COVID-19 pandemic.

“This includes ensuring that all employees adhere to Centers for Disease Control and Penn Medicine infection prevention guidance as they continue their normal clinical work,” Dr. Quinn said in an interview. “Though age alone is not a criterion to remove frontline staff from direct clinical care during the COVID-19 outbreak, certain conditions such as cardiac or lung disease may be, and clinicians who have concerns are urged to speak with their leadership about options to fill clinical or support roles remotely.”

Meanwhile, for states calling on retired health professionals to assist during the pandemic, thorough screenings that identify high-risk volunteers are essential to protect vulnerable clinicians, said Nathaniel Hibbs, DO, president of the Colorado chapter of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

After Colorado issued a statewide request for retired clinicians to help, Dr. Hibbs became concerned that the state’s website initially included only a basic set of questions for interested volunteers.

“It didn’t have screening questions for prior health problems, comorbidities, or things like high blood pressure, heart disease, lung disease – the high-risk factors that we associate with bad outcomes if people get infected with COVID,” Dr. Hibbs said in an interview.

Tapping talent, sharing knowledge

When Barbara L. Schuster, MD, 69, filled out paperwork to join the Georgia Medical Reserve Corps, she answered a range of questions, including inquiries about her age, specialty, licensing, and whether she had any major medical conditions.

“They sent out instructions that said, if you are over the age of 60, we really don’t want you to be doing inpatient or ambulatory with active patients,” said Dr. Schuster, a retired medical school dean in the Athens, Ga., area. “Unless they get to a point where it’s going to be you or nobody, I think that they try to protect us for both our sake and also theirs.”

Dr. Schuster opted for telehealth or administrative duties, but has not yet been called upon to help. The Athens area has not seen high numbers of COVID-19 patients, compared with other parts of the country, and there have not been many volunteer opportunities for physicians thus far, she said. In the meantime, Dr. Schuster has found other ways to give her time, such as answering questions from community members on both COVID-19 and non–COVID-19 topics, and offering guidance to medical students.

“I’ve spent an increasing number of hours on Zoom, Skype, or FaceTime meeting with them to talk about various issues,” Dr. Schuster said.

“It’s important for hospitals that are anticipating a surge of critically ill patients to assess their workforce’s capability, including the proportion of older clinicians,” he said. “Is there something organizations can do differently to lessen older physicians’ and nurses’ direct patient contact and reduce their risk of infection?”

Dr. Buerhaus’ JAMA piece offers a range of ideas and assignments for older clinicians during the pandemic, including consulting with younger staff, advising on resources, assisting with clinical and organizational problem solving, aiding clinicians and managers with challenging decisions, consulting with patient families, advising managers and executives, being public spokespersons, and working with public and community health organizations.

“Older clinicians are at increased risk of becoming seriously ill if infected, but yet they’re also the ones who perhaps some of the best minds and experiences to help organizations combat the pandemic,” Dr. Buerhaus said. “These clinicians have great backgrounds and skills and 20, 30, 40 years of experience to draw on, including dealing with prior medical emergencies. I would hope that organizations, if they can, use the time before becoming a hotspot as an opportunity where the younger workforce could be teamed up with some of the older clinicians and learn as much as possible. It’s a great opportunity to share this wealth of knowledge with the workforce that will carry on after the pandemic.”

Since responding to New York’s call for volunteers, Dr. Salerno has been assigned to a palliative care inpatient team at a Manhattan hospital where she is working with large numbers of ICU patients and their families.

“My experience as a geriatrician helps me in talking with anxious and concerned families, especially when they are unable to see or communicate with their critically ill loved ones,” she said.

Before she was assigned the post, Dr. Salerno said she heard concerns from her adult children, who would prefer their mom take on a volunteer telehealth role. At the time, Dr. Salerno said she was not opposed to a telehealth assignment, but stressed to her family that she would go where she was needed.

“I’m healthy enough to run an organization, work long hours, long weeks; I have the stamina. The only thing working against me is age,” she said. “To say I’m not concerned is not honest. Of course I’m concerned. Am I afraid? No. I’m hoping that we can all be kept safe.”
 

agallegos@mdedge.com

When Judith Salerno, MD, heard that New York was calling for volunteer clinicians to assist with the COVID-19 response, she didn’t hesitate to sign up.

Although Dr. Salerno, 68, has held administrative, research, and policy roles for 25 years, she has kept her medical license active and always found ways to squeeze some clinical work into her busy schedule.

“I have what I could consider ‘rusty’ clinical skills, but pretty good clinical judgment,” said Dr. Salerno, president of the New York Academy of Medicine. “I thought in this situation that I could resurrect and hone those skills, even if it was just taking care of routine patients and working on a team, there was a lot of good I can do.”

Dr. Salerno is among 80,000 health care professionals who have volunteered to work temporarily in New York during the COVID-19 pandemic as of March 31, 2020, according to New York state officials. In mid-March, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo (D) issued a plea for retired physicians and nurses to help the state by signing up for on-call work. Other states have made similar appeals for retired health care professionals to return to medicine in an effort to relieve overwhelmed hospital staffs and aid capacity if health care workers become ill. Such redeployments, however, are raising concerns about exposing senior physicians to a virus that causes more severe illness in individuals aged over 65 years and kills them at a higher rate.

At the same time, a significant portion of the current health care workforce is aged 55 years and older, placing them at higher risk for serious illness, hospitalization, and death from COVID-19, said Douglas O. Staiger, PhD, a researcher and economics professor at Dartmouth College, Hanover, N.H. Dr. Staiger recently coauthored a viewpoint in JAMA called “Older clinicians and the surge in novel coronavirus disease 2019,” which outlines the risks and mortality rates from the novel coronavirus among patients aged 55 years and older.

Protecting staff, screening volunteers

Hematologist-oncologist David H. Henry, MD, said his eight-physician group practice at Pennsylvania Hospital, Philadelphia, has already taken steps to protect him from COVID exposure.

At the request of his younger colleagues, Dr. Henry, 69, said he is no longer seeing patients in the hospital where there is increased exposure risk to the virus. He and the staff also limit their time in the office to 2-3 days a week and practice telemedicine the rest of the week, Dr. Henry said in an interview.

“Whether you’re a person trying to stay at home because you’re quote ‘nonessential,’ or you’re a health care worker and you have to keep seeing patients to some extent, the less we’re face to face with others the better,” said Dr. Henry, who hosts the Blood & Cancer podcast for MDedge News. “There’s an extreme and a middle ground. If they told me just to stay home that wouldn’t help anybody. If they said, ‘business as usual,’ that would be wrong. This is a middle strategy, which is reasonable, rational, and will help dial this dangerous time down as fast as possible.”

On a recent weekend when Dr. Henry would normally have been on call in the hospital, he took phone calls for his colleagues at home while they saw patients in the hospital. This included calls with patients who had questions and consultation calls with other physicians.

“They are helping me and I am helping them,” Dr. Henry said. “Taking those calls makes it easier for my partners to see all those patients. We all want to help and be there, within reason. You want to step up an do your job, but you want to be safe.”

Peter D. Quinn, DMD, MD, chief executive physician of the Penn Medicine Medical Group, said safeguarding the health of its workforce is a top priority as Penn Medicine works to fight the COVID-19 pandemic.

“This includes ensuring that all employees adhere to Centers for Disease Control and Penn Medicine infection prevention guidance as they continue their normal clinical work,” Dr. Quinn said in an interview. “Though age alone is not a criterion to remove frontline staff from direct clinical care during the COVID-19 outbreak, certain conditions such as cardiac or lung disease may be, and clinicians who have concerns are urged to speak with their leadership about options to fill clinical or support roles remotely.”

Meanwhile, for states calling on retired health professionals to assist during the pandemic, thorough screenings that identify high-risk volunteers are essential to protect vulnerable clinicians, said Nathaniel Hibbs, DO, president of the Colorado chapter of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

After Colorado issued a statewide request for retired clinicians to help, Dr. Hibbs became concerned that the state’s website initially included only a basic set of questions for interested volunteers.

“It didn’t have screening questions for prior health problems, comorbidities, or things like high blood pressure, heart disease, lung disease – the high-risk factors that we associate with bad outcomes if people get infected with COVID,” Dr. Hibbs said in an interview.

Tapping talent, sharing knowledge

When Barbara L. Schuster, MD, 69, filled out paperwork to join the Georgia Medical Reserve Corps, she answered a range of questions, including inquiries about her age, specialty, licensing, and whether she had any major medical conditions.

“They sent out instructions that said, if you are over the age of 60, we really don’t want you to be doing inpatient or ambulatory with active patients,” said Dr. Schuster, a retired medical school dean in the Athens, Ga., area. “Unless they get to a point where it’s going to be you or nobody, I think that they try to protect us for both our sake and also theirs.”

Dr. Schuster opted for telehealth or administrative duties, but has not yet been called upon to help. The Athens area has not seen high numbers of COVID-19 patients, compared with other parts of the country, and there have not been many volunteer opportunities for physicians thus far, she said. In the meantime, Dr. Schuster has found other ways to give her time, such as answering questions from community members on both COVID-19 and non–COVID-19 topics, and offering guidance to medical students.

“I’ve spent an increasing number of hours on Zoom, Skype, or FaceTime meeting with them to talk about various issues,” Dr. Schuster said.

“It’s important for hospitals that are anticipating a surge of critically ill patients to assess their workforce’s capability, including the proportion of older clinicians,” he said. “Is there something organizations can do differently to lessen older physicians’ and nurses’ direct patient contact and reduce their risk of infection?”

Dr. Buerhaus’ JAMA piece offers a range of ideas and assignments for older clinicians during the pandemic, including consulting with younger staff, advising on resources, assisting with clinical and organizational problem solving, aiding clinicians and managers with challenging decisions, consulting with patient families, advising managers and executives, being public spokespersons, and working with public and community health organizations.

“Older clinicians are at increased risk of becoming seriously ill if infected, but yet they’re also the ones who perhaps some of the best minds and experiences to help organizations combat the pandemic,” Dr. Buerhaus said. “These clinicians have great backgrounds and skills and 20, 30, 40 years of experience to draw on, including dealing with prior medical emergencies. I would hope that organizations, if they can, use the time before becoming a hotspot as an opportunity where the younger workforce could be teamed up with some of the older clinicians and learn as much as possible. It’s a great opportunity to share this wealth of knowledge with the workforce that will carry on after the pandemic.”

Since responding to New York’s call for volunteers, Dr. Salerno has been assigned to a palliative care inpatient team at a Manhattan hospital where she is working with large numbers of ICU patients and their families.

“My experience as a geriatrician helps me in talking with anxious and concerned families, especially when they are unable to see or communicate with their critically ill loved ones,” she said.

Before she was assigned the post, Dr. Salerno said she heard concerns from her adult children, who would prefer their mom take on a volunteer telehealth role. At the time, Dr. Salerno said she was not opposed to a telehealth assignment, but stressed to her family that she would go where she was needed.

“I’m healthy enough to run an organization, work long hours, long weeks; I have the stamina. The only thing working against me is age,” she said. “To say I’m not concerned is not honest. Of course I’m concerned. Am I afraid? No. I’m hoping that we can all be kept safe.”
 

agallegos@mdedge.com

When Judith Salerno, MD, heard that New York was calling for volunteer clinicians to assist with the COVID-19 response, she didn’t hesitate to sign up.

Although Dr. Salerno, 68, has held administrative, research, and policy roles for 25 years, she has kept her medical license active and always found ways to squeeze some clinical work into her busy schedule.

“I have what I could consider ‘rusty’ clinical skills, but pretty good clinical judgment,” said Dr. Salerno, president of the New York Academy of Medicine. “I thought in this situation that I could resurrect and hone those skills, even if it was just taking care of routine patients and working on a team, there was a lot of good I can do.”

Dr. Salerno is among 80,000 health care professionals who have volunteered to work temporarily in New York during the COVID-19 pandemic as of March 31, 2020, according to New York state officials. In mid-March, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo (D) issued a plea for retired physicians and nurses to help the state by signing up for on-call work. Other states have made similar appeals for retired health care professionals to return to medicine in an effort to relieve overwhelmed hospital staffs and aid capacity if health care workers become ill. Such redeployments, however, are raising concerns about exposing senior physicians to a virus that causes more severe illness in individuals aged over 65 years and kills them at a higher rate.

At the same time, a significant portion of the current health care workforce is aged 55 years and older, placing them at higher risk for serious illness, hospitalization, and death from COVID-19, said Douglas O. Staiger, PhD, a researcher and economics professor at Dartmouth College, Hanover, N.H. Dr. Staiger recently coauthored a viewpoint in JAMA called “Older clinicians and the surge in novel coronavirus disease 2019,” which outlines the risks and mortality rates from the novel coronavirus among patients aged 55 years and older.

Protecting staff, screening volunteers

Hematologist-oncologist David H. Henry, MD, said his eight-physician group practice at Pennsylvania Hospital, Philadelphia, has already taken steps to protect him from COVID exposure.

At the request of his younger colleagues, Dr. Henry, 69, said he is no longer seeing patients in the hospital where there is increased exposure risk to the virus. He and the staff also limit their time in the office to 2-3 days a week and practice telemedicine the rest of the week, Dr. Henry said in an interview.

“Whether you’re a person trying to stay at home because you’re quote ‘nonessential,’ or you’re a health care worker and you have to keep seeing patients to some extent, the less we’re face to face with others the better,” said Dr. Henry, who hosts the Blood & Cancer podcast for MDedge News. “There’s an extreme and a middle ground. If they told me just to stay home that wouldn’t help anybody. If they said, ‘business as usual,’ that would be wrong. This is a middle strategy, which is reasonable, rational, and will help dial this dangerous time down as fast as possible.”

On a recent weekend when Dr. Henry would normally have been on call in the hospital, he took phone calls for his colleagues at home while they saw patients in the hospital. This included calls with patients who had questions and consultation calls with other physicians.

“They are helping me and I am helping them,” Dr. Henry said. “Taking those calls makes it easier for my partners to see all those patients. We all want to help and be there, within reason. You want to step up an do your job, but you want to be safe.”

Peter D. Quinn, DMD, MD, chief executive physician of the Penn Medicine Medical Group, said safeguarding the health of its workforce is a top priority as Penn Medicine works to fight the COVID-19 pandemic.

“This includes ensuring that all employees adhere to Centers for Disease Control and Penn Medicine infection prevention guidance as they continue their normal clinical work,” Dr. Quinn said in an interview. “Though age alone is not a criterion to remove frontline staff from direct clinical care during the COVID-19 outbreak, certain conditions such as cardiac or lung disease may be, and clinicians who have concerns are urged to speak with their leadership about options to fill clinical or support roles remotely.”

Meanwhile, for states calling on retired health professionals to assist during the pandemic, thorough screenings that identify high-risk volunteers are essential to protect vulnerable clinicians, said Nathaniel Hibbs, DO, president of the Colorado chapter of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

After Colorado issued a statewide request for retired clinicians to help, Dr. Hibbs became concerned that the state’s website initially included only a basic set of questions for interested volunteers.

“It didn’t have screening questions for prior health problems, comorbidities, or things like high blood pressure, heart disease, lung disease – the high-risk factors that we associate with bad outcomes if people get infected with COVID,” Dr. Hibbs said in an interview.

Tapping talent, sharing knowledge

When Barbara L. Schuster, MD, 69, filled out paperwork to join the Georgia Medical Reserve Corps, she answered a range of questions, including inquiries about her age, specialty, licensing, and whether she had any major medical conditions.

“They sent out instructions that said, if you are over the age of 60, we really don’t want you to be doing inpatient or ambulatory with active patients,” said Dr. Schuster, a retired medical school dean in the Athens, Ga., area. “Unless they get to a point where it’s going to be you or nobody, I think that they try to protect us for both our sake and also theirs.”

Dr. Schuster opted for telehealth or administrative duties, but has not yet been called upon to help. The Athens area has not seen high numbers of COVID-19 patients, compared with other parts of the country, and there have not been many volunteer opportunities for physicians thus far, she said. In the meantime, Dr. Schuster has found other ways to give her time, such as answering questions from community members on both COVID-19 and non–COVID-19 topics, and offering guidance to medical students.

“I’ve spent an increasing number of hours on Zoom, Skype, or FaceTime meeting with them to talk about various issues,” Dr. Schuster said.

“It’s important for hospitals that are anticipating a surge of critically ill patients to assess their workforce’s capability, including the proportion of older clinicians,” he said. “Is there something organizations can do differently to lessen older physicians’ and nurses’ direct patient contact and reduce their risk of infection?”

Dr. Buerhaus’ JAMA piece offers a range of ideas and assignments for older clinicians during the pandemic, including consulting with younger staff, advising on resources, assisting with clinical and organizational problem solving, aiding clinicians and managers with challenging decisions, consulting with patient families, advising managers and executives, being public spokespersons, and working with public and community health organizations.

“Older clinicians are at increased risk of becoming seriously ill if infected, but yet they’re also the ones who perhaps some of the best minds and experiences to help organizations combat the pandemic,” Dr. Buerhaus said. “These clinicians have great backgrounds and skills and 20, 30, 40 years of experience to draw on, including dealing with prior medical emergencies. I would hope that organizations, if they can, use the time before becoming a hotspot as an opportunity where the younger workforce could be teamed up with some of the older clinicians and learn as much as possible. It’s a great opportunity to share this wealth of knowledge with the workforce that will carry on after the pandemic.”

Since responding to New York’s call for volunteers, Dr. Salerno has been assigned to a palliative care inpatient team at a Manhattan hospital where she is working with large numbers of ICU patients and their families.

“My experience as a geriatrician helps me in talking with anxious and concerned families, especially when they are unable to see or communicate with their critically ill loved ones,” she said.

Before she was assigned the post, Dr. Salerno said she heard concerns from her adult children, who would prefer their mom take on a volunteer telehealth role. At the time, Dr. Salerno said she was not opposed to a telehealth assignment, but stressed to her family that she would go where she was needed.

“I’m healthy enough to run an organization, work long hours, long weeks; I have the stamina. The only thing working against me is age,” she said. “To say I’m not concerned is not honest. Of course I’m concerned. Am I afraid? No. I’m hoping that we can all be kept safe.”
 

agallegos@mdedge.com