Commentary

Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) is a chronic autoimmune inflammatory disease that can have devastating effects on many organs. Despite the considerable morbidity and mortality associated with SLE, treatment options have been largely unchanged since the 1950s.¹ It was not until the last decade that a new biologic medication was approved, and several other promising treatments currently are being evaluated in clinical trials. Dermatologists are most likely to encounter cutaneous lupus erythematosus (CLE) with or without SLE, which can present with a variety of skin manifestations. Cutaneous lupus erythematosus can have devastating effects on quality of life and can be a visible sign of the internal activity and damage of SLE.^2,3 Although many trials have been completed evaluating SLE treatments, few medications have been evaluated specifically for CLE despite the availability of validated measures of CLE skin activity.⁴ There is a recent shortage of antimalarial medications, the current first-line therapy for CLE, due to both an import alert in the United States on quinacrine placed in 2019 as well as the use of hydroxychloroquine and chloroquine in treating coronavirus disease 2019.^5,6 Due to this shortage, the need for new and effective treatments is more critical than ever, as alternatives to first-line therapy frequently require immunosuppression. We review recent drug approvals for SLE and their efficacy in CLE. We also provide an update on new agents currently being studied to treat this disease.

Belimumab

Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor that was first approved for treatment of SLE in 2011. It was the first monoclonal antibody approved to treat SLE.⁷ B-lymphocyte stimulator plays a critical role in B-cell survival; thus, its inhibition increases apoptosis of autoreactive B cells involved in the pathogenesis of SLE. More recently, belimumab was approved for pediatric SLE in April 2019 based on the PLUTO study, a phase 2 randomized, double-blind study of 93 patients.⁸ Although patients with cutaneous manifestations of lupus were included in trials for belimumab, they lacked CLE-specific outcome measurements to truly evaluate the efficacy in treating skin disease.⁹ This medication currently is not approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for CLE; however, it is used off label in some cases for recalcitrant disease.¹⁰

Baricitinib

Baricitinib is a selective and reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2 that was granted fast-track status by the FDA in December 2018. In a phase 2 trial, baricitinib was superior to placebo plus standard of care, primarily for arthritis and lupus nephritis.¹¹ Although improvement of cutaneous disease was measured as an end point, it did not show significant improvement in disease. The presence of skin disease was high, but the activity of disease was low, which can make it difficult to show meaningful improvement, as there is not much room for patients to objectively improve.¹² Showing meaningful improvement in skin disease often is difficult in phase 2 trials, especially when the trial design is focused on SLE rather than CLE activity. Further studies of baricitinib that include more severe patients with CLE disease are needed to truly understand its effects on the skin.

Lenalidomide

There have been several CLE studies in the last several years surrounding lenalidomide, an analog of thalidomide.^13-15 This molecule has a number of immunomodulatory effects including antiangiogenic effects, increased natural killer cell–dependent cytotoxicity, and cytokine and interleukin inhibition. Lenalidomide is of particular interest in treating CLE, as it was shown to be more potent than thalidomide at low doses and with a better side-effect profile. Multiple small, open-label trials have shown lenalidomide to be both safe and efficacious in the treatment of CLE.^13,14 In addition, iberdomide, a derivative of lenalidomide, recently completed a phase 2 dose-escalation study showing improvement in both SLE and CLE end points.¹⁶ A phase 2b proof-of-concept study currently is underway (ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier NCT03161483).

Monoclonal Antibodies

Many developing therapies target specific components of the type I interferon pathway, which is a primary driver of CLE lesions. Innate immune system pathways involving type I interferon were shown to be active in the pathogenesis of CLE, and levels of interferon correlate with skin disease activity.¹⁷ One molecule in development that targets this pathway is BIIB059, a humanized IgG1 monoclonal antibody that binds to blood dendritic cell antigen 2. This cell surface protein is uniquely expressed on plasmacytoid dendritic cells, which are the main source of type I interferon overproduction in SLE. The binding of this antibody to the blood dendritic cell antigen 2 receptor both blocks type I interferon production and decreases the overall number of active plasmacytoid dendritic cells present.¹⁸ In the completed phase 1b study, a response in cutaneous disease was shown through a reduction in the CLE disease area and severity index score following single-dose administration.¹⁹ More recently, a phase 2 study met primary end points in both SLE and CLE compared to placebo.²⁰

Anifrolumab is a human IgG1k monoclonal antibody that binds to type I interferon receptor, blocking all type I interferon signaling. Following a successful phase 2 trial, it failed to meet its primary end point in its first phase 3 trial.²¹ Several secondary end points suggested a clinical benefit. A second phase 3 trial of 362 patients randomized to treatment with anifrolumab or placebo over 48 weeks showed anifrolumab to be superior to placebo for multiple end points, including the overall disease primary end point as well as a notable reduction in skin activity.²²

Final Thoughts

Outside of the approval of belimumab, there have been no new FDA-approved treatments for SLE since the approval of antimalarial agents nearly 50 years ago. For CLE specifically, there is an even greater scarcity of evidence-based treatments. Recently studied medications, such as belimumab and lenalidomide, are available off label for CLE patients when other options have failed. Recent studies have evaluated the efficacy of these agents in the treatment of CLE using the CLE disease area and severity index.^10,13,14 Enrollment in CLE trials is difficult due to the rarity of the disease, and careful attention must be paid to evaluating skin end points. As experts in CLE and the nuances of these assessments, it is critical that dermatologists be involved in clinical trials. Future SLE trials must consider CLE as an important end point for CLE patients to get access to much-needed novel therapies.

Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) is a chronic autoimmune inflammatory disease that can have devastating effects on many organs. Despite the considerable morbidity and mortality associated with SLE, treatment options have been largely unchanged since the 1950s.¹ It was not until the last decade that a new biologic medication was approved, and several other promising treatments currently are being evaluated in clinical trials. Dermatologists are most likely to encounter cutaneous lupus erythematosus (CLE) with or without SLE, which can present with a variety of skin manifestations. Cutaneous lupus erythematosus can have devastating effects on quality of life and can be a visible sign of the internal activity and damage of SLE.^2,3 Although many trials have been completed evaluating SLE treatments, few medications have been evaluated specifically for CLE despite the availability of validated measures of CLE skin activity.⁴ There is a recent shortage of antimalarial medications, the current first-line therapy for CLE, due to both an import alert in the United States on quinacrine placed in 2019 as well as the use of hydroxychloroquine and chloroquine in treating coronavirus disease 2019.^5,6 Due to this shortage, the need for new and effective treatments is more critical than ever, as alternatives to first-line therapy frequently require immunosuppression. We review recent drug approvals for SLE and their efficacy in CLE. We also provide an update on new agents currently being studied to treat this disease.

Belimumab

Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor that was first approved for treatment of SLE in 2011. It was the first monoclonal antibody approved to treat SLE.⁷ B-lymphocyte stimulator plays a critical role in B-cell survival; thus, its inhibition increases apoptosis of autoreactive B cells involved in the pathogenesis of SLE. More recently, belimumab was approved for pediatric SLE in April 2019 based on the PLUTO study, a phase 2 randomized, double-blind study of 93 patients.⁸ Although patients with cutaneous manifestations of lupus were included in trials for belimumab, they lacked CLE-specific outcome measurements to truly evaluate the efficacy in treating skin disease.⁹ This medication currently is not approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for CLE; however, it is used off label in some cases for recalcitrant disease.¹⁰

Baricitinib

Baricitinib is a selective and reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2 that was granted fast-track status by the FDA in December 2018. In a phase 2 trial, baricitinib was superior to placebo plus standard of care, primarily for arthritis and lupus nephritis.¹¹ Although improvement of cutaneous disease was measured as an end point, it did not show significant improvement in disease. The presence of skin disease was high, but the activity of disease was low, which can make it difficult to show meaningful improvement, as there is not much room for patients to objectively improve.¹² Showing meaningful improvement in skin disease often is difficult in phase 2 trials, especially when the trial design is focused on SLE rather than CLE activity. Further studies of baricitinib that include more severe patients with CLE disease are needed to truly understand its effects on the skin.

Lenalidomide

There have been several CLE studies in the last several years surrounding lenalidomide, an analog of thalidomide.^13-15 This molecule has a number of immunomodulatory effects including antiangiogenic effects, increased natural killer cell–dependent cytotoxicity, and cytokine and interleukin inhibition. Lenalidomide is of particular interest in treating CLE, as it was shown to be more potent than thalidomide at low doses and with a better side-effect profile. Multiple small, open-label trials have shown lenalidomide to be both safe and efficacious in the treatment of CLE.^13,14 In addition, iberdomide, a derivative of lenalidomide, recently completed a phase 2 dose-escalation study showing improvement in both SLE and CLE end points.¹⁶ A phase 2b proof-of-concept study currently is underway (ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier NCT03161483).

Monoclonal Antibodies

Many developing therapies target specific components of the type I interferon pathway, which is a primary driver of CLE lesions. Innate immune system pathways involving type I interferon were shown to be active in the pathogenesis of CLE, and levels of interferon correlate with skin disease activity.¹⁷ One molecule in development that targets this pathway is BIIB059, a humanized IgG1 monoclonal antibody that binds to blood dendritic cell antigen 2. This cell surface protein is uniquely expressed on plasmacytoid dendritic cells, which are the main source of type I interferon overproduction in SLE. The binding of this antibody to the blood dendritic cell antigen 2 receptor both blocks type I interferon production and decreases the overall number of active plasmacytoid dendritic cells present.¹⁸ In the completed phase 1b study, a response in cutaneous disease was shown through a reduction in the CLE disease area and severity index score following single-dose administration.¹⁹ More recently, a phase 2 study met primary end points in both SLE and CLE compared to placebo.²⁰

Anifrolumab is a human IgG1k monoclonal antibody that binds to type I interferon receptor, blocking all type I interferon signaling. Following a successful phase 2 trial, it failed to meet its primary end point in its first phase 3 trial.²¹ Several secondary end points suggested a clinical benefit. A second phase 3 trial of 362 patients randomized to treatment with anifrolumab or placebo over 48 weeks showed anifrolumab to be superior to placebo for multiple end points, including the overall disease primary end point as well as a notable reduction in skin activity.²²

Final Thoughts

Outside of the approval of belimumab, there have been no new FDA-approved treatments for SLE since the approval of antimalarial agents nearly 50 years ago. For CLE specifically, there is an even greater scarcity of evidence-based treatments. Recently studied medications, such as belimumab and lenalidomide, are available off label for CLE patients when other options have failed. Recent studies have evaluated the efficacy of these agents in the treatment of CLE using the CLE disease area and severity index.^10,13,14 Enrollment in CLE trials is difficult due to the rarity of the disease, and careful attention must be paid to evaluating skin end points. As experts in CLE and the nuances of these assessments, it is critical that dermatologists be involved in clinical trials. Future SLE trials must consider CLE as an important end point for CLE patients to get access to much-needed novel therapies.

Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) is a chronic autoimmune inflammatory disease that can have devastating effects on many organs. Despite the considerable morbidity and mortality associated with SLE, treatment options have been largely unchanged since the 1950s.¹ It was not until the last decade that a new biologic medication was approved, and several other promising treatments currently are being evaluated in clinical trials. Dermatologists are most likely to encounter cutaneous lupus erythematosus (CLE) with or without SLE, which can present with a variety of skin manifestations. Cutaneous lupus erythematosus can have devastating effects on quality of life and can be a visible sign of the internal activity and damage of SLE.^2,3 Although many trials have been completed evaluating SLE treatments, few medications have been evaluated specifically for CLE despite the availability of validated measures of CLE skin activity.⁴ There is a recent shortage of antimalarial medications, the current first-line therapy for CLE, due to both an import alert in the United States on quinacrine placed in 2019 as well as the use of hydroxychloroquine and chloroquine in treating coronavirus disease 2019.^5,6 Due to this shortage, the need for new and effective treatments is more critical than ever, as alternatives to first-line therapy frequently require immunosuppression. We review recent drug approvals for SLE and their efficacy in CLE. We also provide an update on new agents currently being studied to treat this disease.

Belimumab

Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor that was first approved for treatment of SLE in 2011. It was the first monoclonal antibody approved to treat SLE.⁷ B-lymphocyte stimulator plays a critical role in B-cell survival; thus, its inhibition increases apoptosis of autoreactive B cells involved in the pathogenesis of SLE. More recently, belimumab was approved for pediatric SLE in April 2019 based on the PLUTO study, a phase 2 randomized, double-blind study of 93 patients.⁸ Although patients with cutaneous manifestations of lupus were included in trials for belimumab, they lacked CLE-specific outcome measurements to truly evaluate the efficacy in treating skin disease.⁹ This medication currently is not approved by the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for CLE; however, it is used off label in some cases for recalcitrant disease.¹⁰

Baricitinib

Baricitinib is a selective and reversible inhibitor of JAK1 and JAK2 that was granted fast-track status by the FDA in December 2018. In a phase 2 trial, baricitinib was superior to placebo plus standard of care, primarily for arthritis and lupus nephritis.¹¹ Although improvement of cutaneous disease was measured as an end point, it did not show significant improvement in disease. The presence of skin disease was high, but the activity of disease was low, which can make it difficult to show meaningful improvement, as there is not much room for patients to objectively improve.¹² Showing meaningful improvement in skin disease often is difficult in phase 2 trials, especially when the trial design is focused on SLE rather than CLE activity. Further studies of baricitinib that include more severe patients with CLE disease are needed to truly understand its effects on the skin.

Lenalidomide

There have been several CLE studies in the last several years surrounding lenalidomide, an analog of thalidomide.^13-15 This molecule has a number of immunomodulatory effects including antiangiogenic effects, increased natural killer cell–dependent cytotoxicity, and cytokine and interleukin inhibition. Lenalidomide is of particular interest in treating CLE, as it was shown to be more potent than thalidomide at low doses and with a better side-effect profile. Multiple small, open-label trials have shown lenalidomide to be both safe and efficacious in the treatment of CLE.^13,14 In addition, iberdomide, a derivative of lenalidomide, recently completed a phase 2 dose-escalation study showing improvement in both SLE and CLE end points.¹⁶ A phase 2b proof-of-concept study currently is underway (ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier NCT03161483).

Monoclonal Antibodies

Many developing therapies target specific components of the type I interferon pathway, which is a primary driver of CLE lesions. Innate immune system pathways involving type I interferon were shown to be active in the pathogenesis of CLE, and levels of interferon correlate with skin disease activity.¹⁷ One molecule in development that targets this pathway is BIIB059, a humanized IgG1 monoclonal antibody that binds to blood dendritic cell antigen 2. This cell surface protein is uniquely expressed on plasmacytoid dendritic cells, which are the main source of type I interferon overproduction in SLE. The binding of this antibody to the blood dendritic cell antigen 2 receptor both blocks type I interferon production and decreases the overall number of active plasmacytoid dendritic cells present.¹⁸ In the completed phase 1b study, a response in cutaneous disease was shown through a reduction in the CLE disease area and severity index score following single-dose administration.¹⁹ More recently, a phase 2 study met primary end points in both SLE and CLE compared to placebo.²⁰

Anifrolumab is a human IgG1k monoclonal antibody that binds to type I interferon receptor, blocking all type I interferon signaling. Following a successful phase 2 trial, it failed to meet its primary end point in its first phase 3 trial.²¹ Several secondary end points suggested a clinical benefit. A second phase 3 trial of 362 patients randomized to treatment with anifrolumab or placebo over 48 weeks showed anifrolumab to be superior to placebo for multiple end points, including the overall disease primary end point as well as a notable reduction in skin activity.²²

Final Thoughts

Outside of the approval of belimumab, there have been no new FDA-approved treatments for SLE since the approval of antimalarial agents nearly 50 years ago. For CLE specifically, there is an even greater scarcity of evidence-based treatments. Recently studied medications, such as belimumab and lenalidomide, are available off label for CLE patients when other options have failed. Recent studies have evaluated the efficacy of these agents in the treatment of CLE using the CLE disease area and severity index.^10,13,14 Enrollment in CLE trials is difficult due to the rarity of the disease, and careful attention must be paid to evaluating skin end points. As experts in CLE and the nuances of these assessments, it is critical that dermatologists be involved in clinical trials. Future SLE trials must consider CLE as an important end point for CLE patients to get access to much-needed novel therapies.

I grew up in a family that was pretty much devoid of physical demonstrations of affection. I certainly felt that my folks loved me, but there was no hugging. I don’t recall ever seeing my parents kiss or touch each other. My dad would occasionally physically tease my mother. For example, I can remember one incident at the dinner table when he was playfully and gently laying a hand on my mother’s arm just as she was raising her fork to her mouth. After about three of these gentle holds, she lifted her water glass and tossed its contents in his face. This was the full extent of physicality in our family.

kate_sept2004/thinkstock

It wasn’t just my parents. I can’t remember aunts or uncles or cousins ever hugging us when we met. Grandmothers of course would request a hug. I never knew either of my grandfathers, but I suspect they would not have been the hugging kind.

I never felt I was missing out on anything, because in the generally WASPish atmosphere of the community in which I grew up I saw very few public displays of affection. But somewhere over time, hugging crept into the American repertoire of expression. This incursion may have been a ripple effect from the flower power, free love hippiedom of the ‘60s and ‘70s. Or it may have been a symptom of globalization as Americans became more familiar with other cultures in which physical expression was more common.

Whatever the reason for the more widespread adoption of hugging in our social vocabulary with my somewhat physically impoverished upbringing, it took me longer than most folks to comfortably include it in my greeting options. Although I may have come to the dance late, I have fully adopted hugging as a way to greet people with whom I have more than a passing acquaintance.

In fact, the ability to comfortably hug former coworkers, old friends I haven’t seen in years, and parents with whom I had shared a particularly troublesome child is what I miss most about the restrictions that have come with the COVID-19 pandemic. Now when I meet folks in the grocery store with whom I share a special affection that magnetic spark still leaps between our eyes, just visible over our face masks, but mentally and physically we take a step back and say to ourselves that this hug shouldn’t happen and it isn’t going to happen. And that makes me sad.

One of the great perks of practicing pediatrics in a small town and then remaining there in retirement is that nearly every week I encounter one or two people with whom I have a long and sometimes emotionally charged relationship. Nurses with whom I sweated over difficult delivery room resuscitations. Parents for whom their anxiety was getting in the way of their ability to parent. Parents and caregivers of complex multiply disabled children who are now adults. Peers who have lost a spouse or a child. I’m sure you have your own list of people who send off that we-need-to-hug spark.

I can envision a day sometime in the relatively near future that I will be able to hug my two grandchildren whom I haven’t hugged even though they live a short 10-minute walk away. But I have trouble imagining when I will again be able to enjoy and be enriched by those special grocery store hugs that I have grown to savor.

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.

I grew up in a family that was pretty much devoid of physical demonstrations of affection. I certainly felt that my folks loved me, but there was no hugging. I don’t recall ever seeing my parents kiss or touch each other. My dad would occasionally physically tease my mother. For example, I can remember one incident at the dinner table when he was playfully and gently laying a hand on my mother’s arm just as she was raising her fork to her mouth. After about three of these gentle holds, she lifted her water glass and tossed its contents in his face. This was the full extent of physicality in our family.

kate_sept2004/thinkstock

It wasn’t just my parents. I can’t remember aunts or uncles or cousins ever hugging us when we met. Grandmothers of course would request a hug. I never knew either of my grandfathers, but I suspect they would not have been the hugging kind.

I never felt I was missing out on anything, because in the generally WASPish atmosphere of the community in which I grew up I saw very few public displays of affection. But somewhere over time, hugging crept into the American repertoire of expression. This incursion may have been a ripple effect from the flower power, free love hippiedom of the ‘60s and ‘70s. Or it may have been a symptom of globalization as Americans became more familiar with other cultures in which physical expression was more common.

Whatever the reason for the more widespread adoption of hugging in our social vocabulary with my somewhat physically impoverished upbringing, it took me longer than most folks to comfortably include it in my greeting options. Although I may have come to the dance late, I have fully adopted hugging as a way to greet people with whom I have more than a passing acquaintance.

In fact, the ability to comfortably hug former coworkers, old friends I haven’t seen in years, and parents with whom I had shared a particularly troublesome child is what I miss most about the restrictions that have come with the COVID-19 pandemic. Now when I meet folks in the grocery store with whom I share a special affection that magnetic spark still leaps between our eyes, just visible over our face masks, but mentally and physically we take a step back and say to ourselves that this hug shouldn’t happen and it isn’t going to happen. And that makes me sad.

One of the great perks of practicing pediatrics in a small town and then remaining there in retirement is that nearly every week I encounter one or two people with whom I have a long and sometimes emotionally charged relationship. Nurses with whom I sweated over difficult delivery room resuscitations. Parents for whom their anxiety was getting in the way of their ability to parent. Parents and caregivers of complex multiply disabled children who are now adults. Peers who have lost a spouse or a child. I’m sure you have your own list of people who send off that we-need-to-hug spark.

I can envision a day sometime in the relatively near future that I will be able to hug my two grandchildren whom I haven’t hugged even though they live a short 10-minute walk away. But I have trouble imagining when I will again be able to enjoy and be enriched by those special grocery store hugs that I have grown to savor.

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.

I grew up in a family that was pretty much devoid of physical demonstrations of affection. I certainly felt that my folks loved me, but there was no hugging. I don’t recall ever seeing my parents kiss or touch each other. My dad would occasionally physically tease my mother. For example, I can remember one incident at the dinner table when he was playfully and gently laying a hand on my mother’s arm just as she was raising her fork to her mouth. After about three of these gentle holds, she lifted her water glass and tossed its contents in his face. This was the full extent of physicality in our family.

kate_sept2004/thinkstock

It wasn’t just my parents. I can’t remember aunts or uncles or cousins ever hugging us when we met. Grandmothers of course would request a hug. I never knew either of my grandfathers, but I suspect they would not have been the hugging kind.

I never felt I was missing out on anything, because in the generally WASPish atmosphere of the community in which I grew up I saw very few public displays of affection. But somewhere over time, hugging crept into the American repertoire of expression. This incursion may have been a ripple effect from the flower power, free love hippiedom of the ‘60s and ‘70s. Or it may have been a symptom of globalization as Americans became more familiar with other cultures in which physical expression was more common.

Whatever the reason for the more widespread adoption of hugging in our social vocabulary with my somewhat physically impoverished upbringing, it took me longer than most folks to comfortably include it in my greeting options. Although I may have come to the dance late, I have fully adopted hugging as a way to greet people with whom I have more than a passing acquaintance.

In fact, the ability to comfortably hug former coworkers, old friends I haven’t seen in years, and parents with whom I had shared a particularly troublesome child is what I miss most about the restrictions that have come with the COVID-19 pandemic. Now when I meet folks in the grocery store with whom I share a special affection that magnetic spark still leaps between our eyes, just visible over our face masks, but mentally and physically we take a step back and say to ourselves that this hug shouldn’t happen and it isn’t going to happen. And that makes me sad.

One of the great perks of practicing pediatrics in a small town and then remaining there in retirement is that nearly every week I encounter one or two people with whom I have a long and sometimes emotionally charged relationship. Nurses with whom I sweated over difficult delivery room resuscitations. Parents for whom their anxiety was getting in the way of their ability to parent. Parents and caregivers of complex multiply disabled children who are now adults. Peers who have lost a spouse or a child. I’m sure you have your own list of people who send off that we-need-to-hug spark.

I can envision a day sometime in the relatively near future that I will be able to hug my two grandchildren whom I haven’t hugged even though they live a short 10-minute walk away. But I have trouble imagining when I will again be able to enjoy and be enriched by those special grocery store hugs that I have grown to savor.

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 an update of the PREDIX-HER2 trial, trastuzumab emtansine (T-DM1) remained equivalent to standard neoadjuvant chemotherapy plus dual-targeted HER2 therapy in producing pathologic complete remissions (pCRs) among patients with HER2-positive, metastatic breast cancer.

The new data also suggest tumor-infiltrating lymphocytes (TILs) and dramatic improvements in PET-CT scans can predict favorable outcomes in both treatment groups. Though these findings will be useful for research purposes, they likely won’t influence routine clinical practice.

Thomas Hatschek, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, presented the updated results from PREDIX-HER2 during the European Society for Medical Oncology: Breast Cancer virtual meeting.

PREDIX-HER2 included patients with HER2-positive breast cancer and tumor size greater than 20 mm or lymph node metastases.

Patients received neoadjuvant therapy (NAT) with docetaxel and trastuzumab plus pertuzumab (DTP) or T-DM1 every 3 weeks for a planned total of six courses. The protocol permitted switching to the competing treatment for progression, lack of response, or drug-related severe toxicity.

Postoperatively, all patients received triweekly epirubicin plus cyclophosphamide – four courses for the T-DM1 arm and two courses for the DTP arm. All patients then received triweekly adjuvant trastuzumab for 11 courses. The 62% of patients whose tumors were hormone receptor (HR)–positive received standard endocrine therapy postoperatively.
 

Updated results, predictors of pCR

At the 2019 ASCO annual meeting, PREDIX-HER2 investigators reported that, when compared with DTP, T-DM1 produced the same likelihood of pCR with less toxicity (ASCO 2019, Abstract 501). Updated data presented at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020 showed similar results.

The pCR rate was 45.5% in the DTP arm and 43.9% in the T-DM1 arm (P = .824). pCR rates were higher for HR-negative tumors – 63.6% in the DTP arm and 59% in the T-DM1 arm – than for HR-positive tumors – 36.4% in the DTP arm and 33.9% in the TDM-1 arm.

Three patients had disease progression with T-DM1, and none progressed with DTP. However, almost twice as many patients switched from DTP to T-DM1, compared with the other sequence.

Dr. Hatschek reported that the presence of at least 10% TILs predicted pCR in both treatment groups. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 52.2% had at least 10% TILs in baseline biopsies, and 30.4% had less than 10% TILs.

In addition, a decrease of FDG maximum standardized uptake value by more than 75% on protocol-required PET-CT scans was highly predictive of pCR. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 70.3% had a maximum standardized uptake value decrease of more than 75%, and 22.5% had a decrease of 75% or less.

At median follow-up of 28.5 months, event-free survival was similar between the treatment arms. Overall, there were 13 cases of progression, relapse, contralateral breast cancer, distant metastases, or death from any cause. There were five such events in the DTP arm and eight in the TDM-1 arm.

Dr. Hatschek concluded that neoadjuvant T-DM1 may be as effective as standard NAT in all clinical subgroups evaluated. Both TILs and PET-CT showed the potential to predict pCR and merit further study in the NAT setting.
 

An imperfect surrogate

By definition, a surrogate is “one appointed to act in place of another.” In the case of PREDIX-HER2 and most other NAT studies in HER2-positive breast cancer patients, pCR is a surrogate for the endpoint about which doctors and patients really care – cancer-free survival.

As such, pCR is not a perfect surrogate. Reproducibly, pCR has been highly predictive of disease-free survival and overall survival, especially in the HR-negative subset of HER2-positive patients.

However, despite improvements with dual targeting of HER2 in the TRYPHAENA trial (Eur J Cancer. 2018;89:27-35) and the use of T-DM1 for patients failing to achieve pCR in the immediately practice-changing KATHERINE trial (N Engl J Med. 2019;380:617-28), eventual relapse is seen in 10%-20% of patients in various clinical-pathologic subgroups.

In PREDIX-HER2, the pCR rate for node-positive patients was considerably lower with T-DM1 than with DTP (54.1% vs. 38%), noted Valentina Guarneri, MD, of the University of Padova (Italy), in her discussion of the trial at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020.

Patients with larger initial tumor size and multiple involved axillary nodes at diagnosis remain at increased risk of death because of cancer relapse.

Central nervous system relapse remains a vexing problem. Among patients with triple-positive breast cancer, relapses may occur late, despite pCR.

Patients whose tumors transform from HER2 positive to HER2 negative with NAT, seen in approximately 8% of cases in the KATHERINE trial (ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 96O), may be another poor-risk group.
 

Clinical implications

PREDIX-HER2 is an important study. At the early time point of 2.4 years (especially early since most patients were HR-positive), if pCR is achieved, event-free survival is excellent with T-DM1 or an aggressive multiagent cytotoxic combination plus dual HER2 targeting followed by anthracyclines.

It is ideal to have clinical-pathologic tests to distinguish those patients destined to achieve the surrogate endpoint of pCR from those who will not achieve it.

Despite linkage of TILs to improved outcome for triple-negative and HER2-enriched molecular subtypes (Lancet Oncol. 2018 Jan;19[1]:40-50), analysis of TILs is not standard practice in HER2-positive breast cancer in community settings. Optimal cutoffs are not well established, and TILs have not been linked to the choice of particular treatment options.

Currently, PET-CT scans are not part of National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines for pretreatment evaluation, except in patients for whom there is clinical suspicion of distant disease.

For those reasons, the main results of PREDIX-HER2 remain research tools that will focus our attention on the clinical-pathologic correlations Dr. Hatschek highlighted, but the results should have no influence on routine clinical practice at this time.

PREDIX-HER2 was funded by the Swedish Cancer Society, Radiumhemmet of Karolinska Institutet, Region Stockholm, and Roche Sweden. Dr. Hatschek disclosed relationships with Roche Sweden, Pfizer Sweden, and Pierre Fabre Sweden. Dr. Guarneri disclosed relationships with Roche, Novartis, and Eli Lilly.

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

SOURCE: Hatschek T et al. ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 97O.

In an update of the PREDIX-HER2 trial, trastuzumab emtansine (T-DM1) remained equivalent to standard neoadjuvant chemotherapy plus dual-targeted HER2 therapy in producing pathologic complete remissions (pCRs) among patients with HER2-positive, metastatic breast cancer.

The new data also suggest tumor-infiltrating lymphocytes (TILs) and dramatic improvements in PET-CT scans can predict favorable outcomes in both treatment groups. Though these findings will be useful for research purposes, they likely won’t influence routine clinical practice.

Thomas Hatschek, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, presented the updated results from PREDIX-HER2 during the European Society for Medical Oncology: Breast Cancer virtual meeting.

PREDIX-HER2 included patients with HER2-positive breast cancer and tumor size greater than 20 mm or lymph node metastases.

Patients received neoadjuvant therapy (NAT) with docetaxel and trastuzumab plus pertuzumab (DTP) or T-DM1 every 3 weeks for a planned total of six courses. The protocol permitted switching to the competing treatment for progression, lack of response, or drug-related severe toxicity.

Postoperatively, all patients received triweekly epirubicin plus cyclophosphamide – four courses for the T-DM1 arm and two courses for the DTP arm. All patients then received triweekly adjuvant trastuzumab for 11 courses. The 62% of patients whose tumors were hormone receptor (HR)–positive received standard endocrine therapy postoperatively.
 

Updated results, predictors of pCR

At the 2019 ASCO annual meeting, PREDIX-HER2 investigators reported that, when compared with DTP, T-DM1 produced the same likelihood of pCR with less toxicity (ASCO 2019, Abstract 501). Updated data presented at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020 showed similar results.

The pCR rate was 45.5% in the DTP arm and 43.9% in the T-DM1 arm (P = .824). pCR rates were higher for HR-negative tumors – 63.6% in the DTP arm and 59% in the T-DM1 arm – than for HR-positive tumors – 36.4% in the DTP arm and 33.9% in the TDM-1 arm.

Three patients had disease progression with T-DM1, and none progressed with DTP. However, almost twice as many patients switched from DTP to T-DM1, compared with the other sequence.

Dr. Hatschek reported that the presence of at least 10% TILs predicted pCR in both treatment groups. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 52.2% had at least 10% TILs in baseline biopsies, and 30.4% had less than 10% TILs.

In addition, a decrease of FDG maximum standardized uptake value by more than 75% on protocol-required PET-CT scans was highly predictive of pCR. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 70.3% had a maximum standardized uptake value decrease of more than 75%, and 22.5% had a decrease of 75% or less.

At median follow-up of 28.5 months, event-free survival was similar between the treatment arms. Overall, there were 13 cases of progression, relapse, contralateral breast cancer, distant metastases, or death from any cause. There were five such events in the DTP arm and eight in the TDM-1 arm.

Dr. Hatschek concluded that neoadjuvant T-DM1 may be as effective as standard NAT in all clinical subgroups evaluated. Both TILs and PET-CT showed the potential to predict pCR and merit further study in the NAT setting.
 

An imperfect surrogate

By definition, a surrogate is “one appointed to act in place of another.” In the case of PREDIX-HER2 and most other NAT studies in HER2-positive breast cancer patients, pCR is a surrogate for the endpoint about which doctors and patients really care – cancer-free survival.

As such, pCR is not a perfect surrogate. Reproducibly, pCR has been highly predictive of disease-free survival and overall survival, especially in the HR-negative subset of HER2-positive patients.

However, despite improvements with dual targeting of HER2 in the TRYPHAENA trial (Eur J Cancer. 2018;89:27-35) and the use of T-DM1 for patients failing to achieve pCR in the immediately practice-changing KATHERINE trial (N Engl J Med. 2019;380:617-28), eventual relapse is seen in 10%-20% of patients in various clinical-pathologic subgroups.

In PREDIX-HER2, the pCR rate for node-positive patients was considerably lower with T-DM1 than with DTP (54.1% vs. 38%), noted Valentina Guarneri, MD, of the University of Padova (Italy), in her discussion of the trial at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020.

Patients with larger initial tumor size and multiple involved axillary nodes at diagnosis remain at increased risk of death because of cancer relapse.

Central nervous system relapse remains a vexing problem. Among patients with triple-positive breast cancer, relapses may occur late, despite pCR.

Patients whose tumors transform from HER2 positive to HER2 negative with NAT, seen in approximately 8% of cases in the KATHERINE trial (ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 96O), may be another poor-risk group.
 

Clinical implications

PREDIX-HER2 is an important study. At the early time point of 2.4 years (especially early since most patients were HR-positive), if pCR is achieved, event-free survival is excellent with T-DM1 or an aggressive multiagent cytotoxic combination plus dual HER2 targeting followed by anthracyclines.

It is ideal to have clinical-pathologic tests to distinguish those patients destined to achieve the surrogate endpoint of pCR from those who will not achieve it.

Despite linkage of TILs to improved outcome for triple-negative and HER2-enriched molecular subtypes (Lancet Oncol. 2018 Jan;19[1]:40-50), analysis of TILs is not standard practice in HER2-positive breast cancer in community settings. Optimal cutoffs are not well established, and TILs have not been linked to the choice of particular treatment options.

Currently, PET-CT scans are not part of National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines for pretreatment evaluation, except in patients for whom there is clinical suspicion of distant disease.

For those reasons, the main results of PREDIX-HER2 remain research tools that will focus our attention on the clinical-pathologic correlations Dr. Hatschek highlighted, but the results should have no influence on routine clinical practice at this time.

PREDIX-HER2 was funded by the Swedish Cancer Society, Radiumhemmet of Karolinska Institutet, Region Stockholm, and Roche Sweden. Dr. Hatschek disclosed relationships with Roche Sweden, Pfizer Sweden, and Pierre Fabre Sweden. Dr. Guarneri disclosed relationships with Roche, Novartis, and Eli Lilly.

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

SOURCE: Hatschek T et al. ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 97O.

In an update of the PREDIX-HER2 trial, trastuzumab emtansine (T-DM1) remained equivalent to standard neoadjuvant chemotherapy plus dual-targeted HER2 therapy in producing pathologic complete remissions (pCRs) among patients with HER2-positive, metastatic breast cancer.

The new data also suggest tumor-infiltrating lymphocytes (TILs) and dramatic improvements in PET-CT scans can predict favorable outcomes in both treatment groups. Though these findings will be useful for research purposes, they likely won’t influence routine clinical practice.

Thomas Hatschek, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, presented the updated results from PREDIX-HER2 during the European Society for Medical Oncology: Breast Cancer virtual meeting.

PREDIX-HER2 included patients with HER2-positive breast cancer and tumor size greater than 20 mm or lymph node metastases.

Patients received neoadjuvant therapy (NAT) with docetaxel and trastuzumab plus pertuzumab (DTP) or T-DM1 every 3 weeks for a planned total of six courses. The protocol permitted switching to the competing treatment for progression, lack of response, or drug-related severe toxicity.

Postoperatively, all patients received triweekly epirubicin plus cyclophosphamide – four courses for the T-DM1 arm and two courses for the DTP arm. All patients then received triweekly adjuvant trastuzumab for 11 courses. The 62% of patients whose tumors were hormone receptor (HR)–positive received standard endocrine therapy postoperatively.
 

Updated results, predictors of pCR

At the 2019 ASCO annual meeting, PREDIX-HER2 investigators reported that, when compared with DTP, T-DM1 produced the same likelihood of pCR with less toxicity (ASCO 2019, Abstract 501). Updated data presented at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020 showed similar results.

The pCR rate was 45.5% in the DTP arm and 43.9% in the T-DM1 arm (P = .824). pCR rates were higher for HR-negative tumors – 63.6% in the DTP arm and 59% in the T-DM1 arm – than for HR-positive tumors – 36.4% in the DTP arm and 33.9% in the TDM-1 arm.

Three patients had disease progression with T-DM1, and none progressed with DTP. However, almost twice as many patients switched from DTP to T-DM1, compared with the other sequence.

Dr. Hatschek reported that the presence of at least 10% TILs predicted pCR in both treatment groups. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 52.2% had at least 10% TILs in baseline biopsies, and 30.4% had less than 10% TILs.

In addition, a decrease of FDG maximum standardized uptake value by more than 75% on protocol-required PET-CT scans was highly predictive of pCR. Among patients who achieved a pCR, 70.3% had a maximum standardized uptake value decrease of more than 75%, and 22.5% had a decrease of 75% or less.

At median follow-up of 28.5 months, event-free survival was similar between the treatment arms. Overall, there were 13 cases of progression, relapse, contralateral breast cancer, distant metastases, or death from any cause. There were five such events in the DTP arm and eight in the TDM-1 arm.

Dr. Hatschek concluded that neoadjuvant T-DM1 may be as effective as standard NAT in all clinical subgroups evaluated. Both TILs and PET-CT showed the potential to predict pCR and merit further study in the NAT setting.
 

An imperfect surrogate

By definition, a surrogate is “one appointed to act in place of another.” In the case of PREDIX-HER2 and most other NAT studies in HER2-positive breast cancer patients, pCR is a surrogate for the endpoint about which doctors and patients really care – cancer-free survival.

As such, pCR is not a perfect surrogate. Reproducibly, pCR has been highly predictive of disease-free survival and overall survival, especially in the HR-negative subset of HER2-positive patients.

However, despite improvements with dual targeting of HER2 in the TRYPHAENA trial (Eur J Cancer. 2018;89:27-35) and the use of T-DM1 for patients failing to achieve pCR in the immediately practice-changing KATHERINE trial (N Engl J Med. 2019;380:617-28), eventual relapse is seen in 10%-20% of patients in various clinical-pathologic subgroups.

In PREDIX-HER2, the pCR rate for node-positive patients was considerably lower with T-DM1 than with DTP (54.1% vs. 38%), noted Valentina Guarneri, MD, of the University of Padova (Italy), in her discussion of the trial at ESMO Breast Cancer 2020.

Patients with larger initial tumor size and multiple involved axillary nodes at diagnosis remain at increased risk of death because of cancer relapse.

Central nervous system relapse remains a vexing problem. Among patients with triple-positive breast cancer, relapses may occur late, despite pCR.

Patients whose tumors transform from HER2 positive to HER2 negative with NAT, seen in approximately 8% of cases in the KATHERINE trial (ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 96O), may be another poor-risk group.
 

Clinical implications

PREDIX-HER2 is an important study. At the early time point of 2.4 years (especially early since most patients were HR-positive), if pCR is achieved, event-free survival is excellent with T-DM1 or an aggressive multiagent cytotoxic combination plus dual HER2 targeting followed by anthracyclines.

It is ideal to have clinical-pathologic tests to distinguish those patients destined to achieve the surrogate endpoint of pCR from those who will not achieve it.

Despite linkage of TILs to improved outcome for triple-negative and HER2-enriched molecular subtypes (Lancet Oncol. 2018 Jan;19[1]:40-50), analysis of TILs is not standard practice in HER2-positive breast cancer in community settings. Optimal cutoffs are not well established, and TILs have not been linked to the choice of particular treatment options.

Currently, PET-CT scans are not part of National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines for pretreatment evaluation, except in patients for whom there is clinical suspicion of distant disease.

For those reasons, the main results of PREDIX-HER2 remain research tools that will focus our attention on the clinical-pathologic correlations Dr. Hatschek highlighted, but the results should have no influence on routine clinical practice at this time.

PREDIX-HER2 was funded by the Swedish Cancer Society, Radiumhemmet of Karolinska Institutet, Region Stockholm, and Roche Sweden. Dr. Hatschek disclosed relationships with Roche Sweden, Pfizer Sweden, and Pierre Fabre Sweden. Dr. Guarneri disclosed relationships with Roche, Novartis, and Eli Lilly.

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

SOURCE: Hatschek T et al. ESMO Breast Cancer 2020, Abstract 97O.

Coronaviruses (CoVs) are among the most common causes of the common cold but also can lead to severe respiratory disease.¹ In recent years, CoVs have been responsible for outbreaks of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) and Middle East respiratory syndrome (MERS), caused by SARS-CoV and MERS-CoV, respectively. Severe acute respiratory syndrome emerged from China in 2002, and MERS started in Saudi Arabia in 2012. In December 2019, several cases of unexplained pneumonia were reported in Wuhan, China.¹ A novel CoV--SARS-CoV-2--was isolated in these patients and is now known to cause coronavirus disease 19 (COVID-19).¹ Coronavirus disease 19 can cause acute respiratory distress and multiorgan failure.^1,2 It spread quickly throughout the world and was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization on March 11, 2020. According to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html), there were approximately 14,500 COVID-19 cases diagnosed worldwide on February 1, 2020; by May 22, 2020, there were more than 5,159,600 cases. Thus, heightened measures for infection prevention and control were put in place around the globe in an attempt to slow the spread of disease.¹  

In this article, we describe the dermatologic implications of COVID-19, including the clinical manifestations of the disease, risk reduction techniques for patients and providers, personal protective equipment-associated adverse reactions, and the financial impact on dermatologists.  

Clinical Manifestations 

At the start of the COVID-19 outbreak, little was known about the skin manifestations of the disease. Providers speculated that COVID-19 could have nonspecific skin findings similar to many other viral illnesses.^3,4 Research throughout the pandemic has found many cutaneous manifestations of the disease.^3-6 A case report from Thailand described a patient who presented with petechiae in addition to fever and thrombocytopenia, which led to an initial misdiagnosis of Dengue fever; however, when the patient began having respiratory symptoms, the diagnosis of COVID-19 was discovered.⁵ Furthermore, a study from Italy (N=88) showed dermatologic findings in 20.4% (18/88) of patients, including erythematous rash (77.8% [14/18]), widespread urticaria (16.7% [3/18]), and chickenpoxlike vesicles (5.6% [1/18]). A recent study from Spain (N=375) found 5 cutaneous patterns associated with COVID-19: pseudochilblain--acral areas of erythema with vesicles and/or pustules--lesions (19%), vesicular eruptions (9%), urticarial lesions (19%), maculopapular eruptions (47%), and livedoid/necrotic lesions (6%).⁶ Pseudochilblain lesions appeared in younger patients, occurred later in the disease course, and were associated with less severe disease. Vesicular lesions often were found in middle-aged patients prior to the onset of other COVID-19 symptoms, and they were associated with intermediate disease severity. Urticarial and maculopapular lesions typically paralleled other COVID-19 symptoms in timing and were associated with more severe disease. Likewise, livedoid and necrotic lesions were associated with more severe disease; they occurred more frequently in older patients.⁶ Clinicians at Cleveland Clinic found similar cutaneous lesions in COVID-19 patients, including morbilliform rashes, acral purpura resembling perniosis, and livedoid lesions.³ Initial biopsies of these lesions pointed to viral exanthema and thrombotic vasculopathy as potential etiologies of morbilliform and livedoid lesions, respectively. Interestingly, patients may present with multiple cutaneous morphologies of the disease at the same time.³ The acral lesions ("COVID toes") have been popularized throughout the media and thus may be the best-known cutaneous manifestation of the disease at this time. New findings continuously arise, and further research is warranted as lesions that develop in hospitalized COVID-19 patients could be virus related or secondary to hospital-induced skin irritation, stressors, or medications.³ Importantly, clinicians should be aware of these cutaneous signs of COVID-19, especially when triaging patients.

Risk Reduction

The current health crisis could have a drastic impact on dermatology patients and providers. One factor that may increase COVID-19 risk in dermatology patients is immunosuppression. Many patients are on immunomodulators and biologics for skin conditions, which can cause immunosuppression directly and indirectly. Immunosuppression is a risk factor for severe disease in patients with COVID-19, so this population is at higher risk for serious infection.⁷ Telemedicine for nonemergent cases and follow-ups should be considered to decrease traffic in high-risk hospitals; to limit the number of people in waiting rooms; and to protect staff, providers, and patients alike.¹ Recommendations for teledermatology consultation during this time include the following: First, have patients take photographs of their skin lesions and send them remotely to the consulting physician. If the lesion is easily recognizable, treatment recommendations can be made remotely; if the diagnosis is ambiguous, the dermatologist can set up an in-person appointment.¹  

Personal Protective Equipment

Moreover, the current need to wear personal protective equipment (PPE) and wash hands frequently may lead to skin disease among health care providers. Facial rashes may arise from wearing masks and goggles, and repeated handwashing and wearing gloves may lead to hand dermatitis.⁸ One study examined adverse skin reactions among health care workers (N=322) during the SARS outbreak in 2003. More than one-third (35.5%) of staff members who wore masks regularly during the outbreak reported adverse skin reactions, including acne (59.6%), facial itching (51.4%), and rash (35.8%).⁸ The acne etiology likely is multifactorial. Masks increase heat and humidity in the covered facial region, which can cause acne flare-ups due to increased sebum production and Cutibacterium acnes growth.⁸ Additionally, tight N95 masks may occlude the pilosebaceous glands, causing acne to flare. In the SARS study, facial itchiness and rashes likely were due to irritant contact dermatitis to the N95 masks. All of the respondents with adverse skin reactions from masks developed them after using N95 masks; those who wore surgical masks did not report reactions.⁸ Because N95 masks are recommended for health care workers caring for patients with highly transmissible respiratory infections such as SARS and COVID-19, it will be difficult to avoid wearing them during the current crisis. For this reason, topical retinoids and topical benzoyl peroxide should be the first-line treatment of mask-induced acne, and moisturization and topical corticosteroids should be used for facial erythema. Additionally, 21.4% of respondents reported adverse skin reactions from latex gloves during the SARS outbreak, including dry skin, itchiness, rash, and wheals.⁸ These skin reactions may have been type I IgE-mediated hypersensitivity reactions or irritant contact dermatitis due to latex sensitization and frequent handwashing. No respondents reported skin reactions to plastic gloves.⁸ For this reason, health care providers should consider wearing plastic gloves in lieu of or under latex gloves to prevent hand dermatitis during this time. Moisturization, barrier creams, and topical corticosteroids also can help treat hand dermatitis. Frequently changing PPE may help prevent skin disease among the frontline health care workers,⁸ which posed a problem at the beginning of the COVID-19 outbreak as there was a PPE shortage. With industry and individuals coming together to make and donate PPE, it is now more widely available for our frontline providers.  

Financial Impact

Finally, the pandemic is having an immense financial impact on dermatology.⁹ At the onset of the outbreak, our role as health care providers was to help slow the spread of COVID-19; for this reason, most elective procedures were cancelled, and many outpatient clinics closed. Both elective procedures and outpatient visits are central to dermatology, so many dermatologists worked less or not at all during this time, leading to a loss of revenue. The goals of these measures were to reduce transmissibility of the disease, to prevent the health care system from being overwhelmed with critical COVID-19 cases, and to allocate resources to the frontline providers.⁹ Although these measures were beneficial for slowing the spread of disease, they were detrimental to some providers' and practices' financial stability. Many dermatology practices have begun to reopen with COVID-19 precautions in place. For example, practices are limiting the number of patients that can be in the office at one time, mandating temperature readings upon check-in, and requiring masks be worn throughout the entire visit. With continued recommendations for individuals to stay at home as much as possible, the number of patients being seen in dermatology clinics on a daily basis remains less than normal. One potential solution is telemedicine, which would allow patients' concerns to be addressed while keeping providers practicing with a normal patient volume during this time.⁹ Keeping providers financially afloat is vital for private practices to continue operating after the pandemic. Dermatology appointments are in high demand with long waiting lists during nonpandemic times; without dermatologists practicing at full capacity, there will be an accumulation of patients with dermatologic conditions with even longer waiting times after the pandemic. Telemedicine may help reduce this potential accumulation of patients and allow patients to be treated in a more timely manner while alleviating financial pressures for providers.

Final Thoughts

The COVID-19 pandemic has spread across the world, infecting millions of people. Although the trends have slowed, more than 106,100 cases are still being diagnosed daily according to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html). Patients with COVID-19 may present with a variety of cutaneous lesions. Wearing PPE to take care of COVID-19 patients may lead to skin irritation, so care should be taken to address these adverse skin reactions to maintain the safety of providers. Finally, dermatologists should consider telemedicine during this time to protect high-risk patients, prevent a postpandemic surge of patients, and alleviate financial stressors caused by COVID-19.

Coronaviruses (CoVs) are among the most common causes of the common cold but also can lead to severe respiratory disease.¹ In recent years, CoVs have been responsible for outbreaks of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) and Middle East respiratory syndrome (MERS), caused by SARS-CoV and MERS-CoV, respectively. Severe acute respiratory syndrome emerged from China in 2002, and MERS started in Saudi Arabia in 2012. In December 2019, several cases of unexplained pneumonia were reported in Wuhan, China.¹ A novel CoV--SARS-CoV-2--was isolated in these patients and is now known to cause coronavirus disease 19 (COVID-19).¹ Coronavirus disease 19 can cause acute respiratory distress and multiorgan failure.^1,2 It spread quickly throughout the world and was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization on March 11, 2020. According to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html), there were approximately 14,500 COVID-19 cases diagnosed worldwide on February 1, 2020; by May 22, 2020, there were more than 5,159,600 cases. Thus, heightened measures for infection prevention and control were put in place around the globe in an attempt to slow the spread of disease.¹  

In this article, we describe the dermatologic implications of COVID-19, including the clinical manifestations of the disease, risk reduction techniques for patients and providers, personal protective equipment-associated adverse reactions, and the financial impact on dermatologists.  

Clinical Manifestations 

At the start of the COVID-19 outbreak, little was known about the skin manifestations of the disease. Providers speculated that COVID-19 could have nonspecific skin findings similar to many other viral illnesses.^3,4 Research throughout the pandemic has found many cutaneous manifestations of the disease.^3-6 A case report from Thailand described a patient who presented with petechiae in addition to fever and thrombocytopenia, which led to an initial misdiagnosis of Dengue fever; however, when the patient began having respiratory symptoms, the diagnosis of COVID-19 was discovered.⁵ Furthermore, a study from Italy (N=88) showed dermatologic findings in 20.4% (18/88) of patients, including erythematous rash (77.8% [14/18]), widespread urticaria (16.7% [3/18]), and chickenpoxlike vesicles (5.6% [1/18]). A recent study from Spain (N=375) found 5 cutaneous patterns associated with COVID-19: pseudochilblain--acral areas of erythema with vesicles and/or pustules--lesions (19%), vesicular eruptions (9%), urticarial lesions (19%), maculopapular eruptions (47%), and livedoid/necrotic lesions (6%).⁶ Pseudochilblain lesions appeared in younger patients, occurred later in the disease course, and were associated with less severe disease. Vesicular lesions often were found in middle-aged patients prior to the onset of other COVID-19 symptoms, and they were associated with intermediate disease severity. Urticarial and maculopapular lesions typically paralleled other COVID-19 symptoms in timing and were associated with more severe disease. Likewise, livedoid and necrotic lesions were associated with more severe disease; they occurred more frequently in older patients.⁶ Clinicians at Cleveland Clinic found similar cutaneous lesions in COVID-19 patients, including morbilliform rashes, acral purpura resembling perniosis, and livedoid lesions.³ Initial biopsies of these lesions pointed to viral exanthema and thrombotic vasculopathy as potential etiologies of morbilliform and livedoid lesions, respectively. Interestingly, patients may present with multiple cutaneous morphologies of the disease at the same time.³ The acral lesions ("COVID toes") have been popularized throughout the media and thus may be the best-known cutaneous manifestation of the disease at this time. New findings continuously arise, and further research is warranted as lesions that develop in hospitalized COVID-19 patients could be virus related or secondary to hospital-induced skin irritation, stressors, or medications.³ Importantly, clinicians should be aware of these cutaneous signs of COVID-19, especially when triaging patients.

Risk Reduction

The current health crisis could have a drastic impact on dermatology patients and providers. One factor that may increase COVID-19 risk in dermatology patients is immunosuppression. Many patients are on immunomodulators and biologics for skin conditions, which can cause immunosuppression directly and indirectly. Immunosuppression is a risk factor for severe disease in patients with COVID-19, so this population is at higher risk for serious infection.⁷ Telemedicine for nonemergent cases and follow-ups should be considered to decrease traffic in high-risk hospitals; to limit the number of people in waiting rooms; and to protect staff, providers, and patients alike.¹ Recommendations for teledermatology consultation during this time include the following: First, have patients take photographs of their skin lesions and send them remotely to the consulting physician. If the lesion is easily recognizable, treatment recommendations can be made remotely; if the diagnosis is ambiguous, the dermatologist can set up an in-person appointment.¹  

Personal Protective Equipment

Moreover, the current need to wear personal protective equipment (PPE) and wash hands frequently may lead to skin disease among health care providers. Facial rashes may arise from wearing masks and goggles, and repeated handwashing and wearing gloves may lead to hand dermatitis.⁸ One study examined adverse skin reactions among health care workers (N=322) during the SARS outbreak in 2003. More than one-third (35.5%) of staff members who wore masks regularly during the outbreak reported adverse skin reactions, including acne (59.6%), facial itching (51.4%), and rash (35.8%).⁸ The acne etiology likely is multifactorial. Masks increase heat and humidity in the covered facial region, which can cause acne flare-ups due to increased sebum production and Cutibacterium acnes growth.⁸ Additionally, tight N95 masks may occlude the pilosebaceous glands, causing acne to flare. In the SARS study, facial itchiness and rashes likely were due to irritant contact dermatitis to the N95 masks. All of the respondents with adverse skin reactions from masks developed them after using N95 masks; those who wore surgical masks did not report reactions.⁸ Because N95 masks are recommended for health care workers caring for patients with highly transmissible respiratory infections such as SARS and COVID-19, it will be difficult to avoid wearing them during the current crisis. For this reason, topical retinoids and topical benzoyl peroxide should be the first-line treatment of mask-induced acne, and moisturization and topical corticosteroids should be used for facial erythema. Additionally, 21.4% of respondents reported adverse skin reactions from latex gloves during the SARS outbreak, including dry skin, itchiness, rash, and wheals.⁸ These skin reactions may have been type I IgE-mediated hypersensitivity reactions or irritant contact dermatitis due to latex sensitization and frequent handwashing. No respondents reported skin reactions to plastic gloves.⁸ For this reason, health care providers should consider wearing plastic gloves in lieu of or under latex gloves to prevent hand dermatitis during this time. Moisturization, barrier creams, and topical corticosteroids also can help treat hand dermatitis. Frequently changing PPE may help prevent skin disease among the frontline health care workers,⁸ which posed a problem at the beginning of the COVID-19 outbreak as there was a PPE shortage. With industry and individuals coming together to make and donate PPE, it is now more widely available for our frontline providers.  

Financial Impact

Finally, the pandemic is having an immense financial impact on dermatology.⁹ At the onset of the outbreak, our role as health care providers was to help slow the spread of COVID-19; for this reason, most elective procedures were cancelled, and many outpatient clinics closed. Both elective procedures and outpatient visits are central to dermatology, so many dermatologists worked less or not at all during this time, leading to a loss of revenue. The goals of these measures were to reduce transmissibility of the disease, to prevent the health care system from being overwhelmed with critical COVID-19 cases, and to allocate resources to the frontline providers.⁹ Although these measures were beneficial for slowing the spread of disease, they were detrimental to some providers' and practices' financial stability. Many dermatology practices have begun to reopen with COVID-19 precautions in place. For example, practices are limiting the number of patients that can be in the office at one time, mandating temperature readings upon check-in, and requiring masks be worn throughout the entire visit. With continued recommendations for individuals to stay at home as much as possible, the number of patients being seen in dermatology clinics on a daily basis remains less than normal. One potential solution is telemedicine, which would allow patients' concerns to be addressed while keeping providers practicing with a normal patient volume during this time.⁹ Keeping providers financially afloat is vital for private practices to continue operating after the pandemic. Dermatology appointments are in high demand with long waiting lists during nonpandemic times; without dermatologists practicing at full capacity, there will be an accumulation of patients with dermatologic conditions with even longer waiting times after the pandemic. Telemedicine may help reduce this potential accumulation of patients and allow patients to be treated in a more timely manner while alleviating financial pressures for providers.

Final Thoughts

The COVID-19 pandemic has spread across the world, infecting millions of people. Although the trends have slowed, more than 106,100 cases are still being diagnosed daily according to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html). Patients with COVID-19 may present with a variety of cutaneous lesions. Wearing PPE to take care of COVID-19 patients may lead to skin irritation, so care should be taken to address these adverse skin reactions to maintain the safety of providers. Finally, dermatologists should consider telemedicine during this time to protect high-risk patients, prevent a postpandemic surge of patients, and alleviate financial stressors caused by COVID-19.

Coronaviruses (CoVs) are among the most common causes of the common cold but also can lead to severe respiratory disease.¹ In recent years, CoVs have been responsible for outbreaks of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) and Middle East respiratory syndrome (MERS), caused by SARS-CoV and MERS-CoV, respectively. Severe acute respiratory syndrome emerged from China in 2002, and MERS started in Saudi Arabia in 2012. In December 2019, several cases of unexplained pneumonia were reported in Wuhan, China.¹ A novel CoV--SARS-CoV-2--was isolated in these patients and is now known to cause coronavirus disease 19 (COVID-19).¹ Coronavirus disease 19 can cause acute respiratory distress and multiorgan failure.^1,2 It spread quickly throughout the world and was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization on March 11, 2020. According to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html), there were approximately 14,500 COVID-19 cases diagnosed worldwide on February 1, 2020; by May 22, 2020, there were more than 5,159,600 cases. Thus, heightened measures for infection prevention and control were put in place around the globe in an attempt to slow the spread of disease.¹  

In this article, we describe the dermatologic implications of COVID-19, including the clinical manifestations of the disease, risk reduction techniques for patients and providers, personal protective equipment-associated adverse reactions, and the financial impact on dermatologists.  

Clinical Manifestations 

At the start of the COVID-19 outbreak, little was known about the skin manifestations of the disease. Providers speculated that COVID-19 could have nonspecific skin findings similar to many other viral illnesses.^3,4 Research throughout the pandemic has found many cutaneous manifestations of the disease.^3-6 A case report from Thailand described a patient who presented with petechiae in addition to fever and thrombocytopenia, which led to an initial misdiagnosis of Dengue fever; however, when the patient began having respiratory symptoms, the diagnosis of COVID-19 was discovered.⁵ Furthermore, a study from Italy (N=88) showed dermatologic findings in 20.4% (18/88) of patients, including erythematous rash (77.8% [14/18]), widespread urticaria (16.7% [3/18]), and chickenpoxlike vesicles (5.6% [1/18]). A recent study from Spain (N=375) found 5 cutaneous patterns associated with COVID-19: pseudochilblain--acral areas of erythema with vesicles and/or pustules--lesions (19%), vesicular eruptions (9%), urticarial lesions (19%), maculopapular eruptions (47%), and livedoid/necrotic lesions (6%).⁶ Pseudochilblain lesions appeared in younger patients, occurred later in the disease course, and were associated with less severe disease. Vesicular lesions often were found in middle-aged patients prior to the onset of other COVID-19 symptoms, and they were associated with intermediate disease severity. Urticarial and maculopapular lesions typically paralleled other COVID-19 symptoms in timing and were associated with more severe disease. Likewise, livedoid and necrotic lesions were associated with more severe disease; they occurred more frequently in older patients.⁶ Clinicians at Cleveland Clinic found similar cutaneous lesions in COVID-19 patients, including morbilliform rashes, acral purpura resembling perniosis, and livedoid lesions.³ Initial biopsies of these lesions pointed to viral exanthema and thrombotic vasculopathy as potential etiologies of morbilliform and livedoid lesions, respectively. Interestingly, patients may present with multiple cutaneous morphologies of the disease at the same time.³ The acral lesions ("COVID toes") have been popularized throughout the media and thus may be the best-known cutaneous manifestation of the disease at this time. New findings continuously arise, and further research is warranted as lesions that develop in hospitalized COVID-19 patients could be virus related or secondary to hospital-induced skin irritation, stressors, or medications.³ Importantly, clinicians should be aware of these cutaneous signs of COVID-19, especially when triaging patients.

Risk Reduction

The current health crisis could have a drastic impact on dermatology patients and providers. One factor that may increase COVID-19 risk in dermatology patients is immunosuppression. Many patients are on immunomodulators and biologics for skin conditions, which can cause immunosuppression directly and indirectly. Immunosuppression is a risk factor for severe disease in patients with COVID-19, so this population is at higher risk for serious infection.⁷ Telemedicine for nonemergent cases and follow-ups should be considered to decrease traffic in high-risk hospitals; to limit the number of people in waiting rooms; and to protect staff, providers, and patients alike.¹ Recommendations for teledermatology consultation during this time include the following: First, have patients take photographs of their skin lesions and send them remotely to the consulting physician. If the lesion is easily recognizable, treatment recommendations can be made remotely; if the diagnosis is ambiguous, the dermatologist can set up an in-person appointment.¹  

Personal Protective Equipment

Moreover, the current need to wear personal protective equipment (PPE) and wash hands frequently may lead to skin disease among health care providers. Facial rashes may arise from wearing masks and goggles, and repeated handwashing and wearing gloves may lead to hand dermatitis.⁸ One study examined adverse skin reactions among health care workers (N=322) during the SARS outbreak in 2003. More than one-third (35.5%) of staff members who wore masks regularly during the outbreak reported adverse skin reactions, including acne (59.6%), facial itching (51.4%), and rash (35.8%).⁸ The acne etiology likely is multifactorial. Masks increase heat and humidity in the covered facial region, which can cause acne flare-ups due to increased sebum production and Cutibacterium acnes growth.⁸ Additionally, tight N95 masks may occlude the pilosebaceous glands, causing acne to flare. In the SARS study, facial itchiness and rashes likely were due to irritant contact dermatitis to the N95 masks. All of the respondents with adverse skin reactions from masks developed them after using N95 masks; those who wore surgical masks did not report reactions.⁸ Because N95 masks are recommended for health care workers caring for patients with highly transmissible respiratory infections such as SARS and COVID-19, it will be difficult to avoid wearing them during the current crisis. For this reason, topical retinoids and topical benzoyl peroxide should be the first-line treatment of mask-induced acne, and moisturization and topical corticosteroids should be used for facial erythema. Additionally, 21.4% of respondents reported adverse skin reactions from latex gloves during the SARS outbreak, including dry skin, itchiness, rash, and wheals.⁸ These skin reactions may have been type I IgE-mediated hypersensitivity reactions or irritant contact dermatitis due to latex sensitization and frequent handwashing. No respondents reported skin reactions to plastic gloves.⁸ For this reason, health care providers should consider wearing plastic gloves in lieu of or under latex gloves to prevent hand dermatitis during this time. Moisturization, barrier creams, and topical corticosteroids also can help treat hand dermatitis. Frequently changing PPE may help prevent skin disease among the frontline health care workers,⁸ which posed a problem at the beginning of the COVID-19 outbreak as there was a PPE shortage. With industry and individuals coming together to make and donate PPE, it is now more widely available for our frontline providers.  

Financial Impact

Finally, the pandemic is having an immense financial impact on dermatology.⁹ At the onset of the outbreak, our role as health care providers was to help slow the spread of COVID-19; for this reason, most elective procedures were cancelled, and many outpatient clinics closed. Both elective procedures and outpatient visits are central to dermatology, so many dermatologists worked less or not at all during this time, leading to a loss of revenue. The goals of these measures were to reduce transmissibility of the disease, to prevent the health care system from being overwhelmed with critical COVID-19 cases, and to allocate resources to the frontline providers.⁹ Although these measures were beneficial for slowing the spread of disease, they were detrimental to some providers' and practices' financial stability. Many dermatology practices have begun to reopen with COVID-19 precautions in place. For example, practices are limiting the number of patients that can be in the office at one time, mandating temperature readings upon check-in, and requiring masks be worn throughout the entire visit. With continued recommendations for individuals to stay at home as much as possible, the number of patients being seen in dermatology clinics on a daily basis remains less than normal. One potential solution is telemedicine, which would allow patients' concerns to be addressed while keeping providers practicing with a normal patient volume during this time.⁹ Keeping providers financially afloat is vital for private practices to continue operating after the pandemic. Dermatology appointments are in high demand with long waiting lists during nonpandemic times; without dermatologists practicing at full capacity, there will be an accumulation of patients with dermatologic conditions with even longer waiting times after the pandemic. Telemedicine may help reduce this potential accumulation of patients and allow patients to be treated in a more timely manner while alleviating financial pressures for providers.

Final Thoughts

The COVID-19 pandemic has spread across the world, infecting millions of people. Although the trends have slowed, more than 106,100 cases are still being diagnosed daily according to the Johns Hopkins University Coronavirus Resource Center (https://coronavirus.jhu.edu/map.html). Patients with COVID-19 may present with a variety of cutaneous lesions. Wearing PPE to take care of COVID-19 patients may lead to skin irritation, so care should be taken to address these adverse skin reactions to maintain the safety of providers. Finally, dermatologists should consider telemedicine during this time to protect high-risk patients, prevent a postpandemic surge of patients, and alleviate financial stressors caused by COVID-19.

The Navajo people have dealt with adversity that has tested our strength and resilience since our creation. In Navajo culture, the Holy People or gods challenged us with Naayee (monsters). We endured and learned from each Naayee, hunger, and death to name a few adversities. The COVID-19 pandemic, or “Big Cough” (Dikos Nitsaa’igii -19 in Navajo language) is a monster confronting the Navajo today. It has had significant impact on our nation and people.

The Navajo have the most cases of the COVID-19 virus of any tribe in the United States, and numbers as of May 31, 2020, are 5,348, with 246 confirmed deaths.¹ The Navajo Nation, which once lagged behind New York, has reported the largest per-capita infection rate in the United States.

These devastating numbers, which might be leveling off, are associated with Navajo people having higher-than-average numbers of diabetes, heart disease, and cancer. This is compounded with 30%-40% of homes having no electricity or running water, and a poverty rate of about 38%.²

Geographical and cultural factors also contribute to the inability to gain a foothold in mitigating the number of cases. The Navajo Nation is the largest tribe in the United States, covering 27,000 square miles over an arid, red rock expanse with canyons and mountains. The population is over 250,000,³ and Navajo have traditionally lived in matrilineal clan units throughout the reservation, the size of West Virginia. The family traditional dwelling, called a “hogan,” often is clustered together. Multiple generations live together in these units. The COVID-19 virus inflicted many Navajo and rapidly spread to the elderly in these close-proximity living quarters.

Most Navajo live away from services and grocery stores and travel back and forth for food and water, which contributes to the virus rapidly being transmitted among the community members. Education aimed at curbing travel and spread of the virus was issued with curfews, commands to stay at home and keep social distance, and protect elders. The Navajo leadership and traditional medicine people, meanwhile, advised the people to follow their cultural values by caring for family and community members and providing a safe environment.
 

Resources are spread out

There are only 13 stores in this expansive reservation,⁴ so tribal members rely on traveling to border towns, such as Farmington and Gallup, N.M., Families usually travel to these towns on weekends to replenish food and supplies. There has been a cluster of cases in Gallup, N.M., so to reduce the numbers, the town shut itself off from outsiders – including the Navajo people coming to buy food, do laundry, and get water and feed for livestock. This has affected and stressed the Navajo further in attempting to access necessities.

Access to health care is already challenging because of lack of transportation and distance. This has made it more difficult to access COVID-19 testing and more challenging to get the results back. The Indian Health Service has been the designated health care system for the Navajo since 1955. The Treaty of Bosque Redondo, signed by the Navajo in 1868, included the provision of health care, as well as education in exchange for tracts of land, that included the Navajo homeland or Dinetah.⁵

The Indian Health Service provides care with hospitals and clinics throughout the reservation. Some of the IHS facilities have been taken over by the Navajo, so there are four Navajo tribally controlled hospitals, along with one private hospital. Coordination of care for a pandemic is, therefore, more challenging to coordinate. This contributes to problems with coordination of the health care, establishing alternate care sites, accessing personal protective equipment, and providing testing sites. The Navajo Nation Council is working hard to equitably distribute the $600 million from the CARES Act.⁶

Dealing with the pandemic is compromised by chronic underfunding from the U.S. government. The treaty obligation of the U.S. government is to provide health care to all federally recognized Native Americans. The IHS, which has been designated to provide that care for a tribal person, gets one-third the Medicare dollars for health care provided for a person in the general population.⁷ Health factors have led to the public health issues of poorly controlled diabetes, obesity, and coronary artery disease, which is related to this underfunding and the high rate of COVID-19 cases. Parts of the reservation are also exposed to high levels of pollution from oil and gas wells from the coal-fueled power plants. Those exposed to these high levels of pollutions have a higher than average number of cases of COVID-19, higher than in areas where the pollution is markedly lower.⁸

The Navajo are having to rely on the strength and resilience of traditional Navajo culture and philosophy to confront this monster, Dikos Nitsaa’igii’ 19. We have relied on Western medicine and its limited resources but now need to empower the strength from our traditional ways of knowing. We have used this knowledge in times of adversity for hundreds of years. The Navajo elders and medicine people have reminded us we have dealt with monsters and know how to endure hardship and be resilient. This helps to ameliorate mental health conditions, but there are still issues that remain challenging.

Those having the virus go through times of shortness of breath, which produces anxiety and panic. The risk of death adds further stress, and for a family-oriented culture, the need to isolate from family adds further stress. For the elderly and young people with more serious disease having to go to the hospital alone without family, often far from home, is so challenging. Connecting family by phone or social media with those stricken is essential to decrease anxiety and isolation. Those infected with the virus can learn breathing exercises, which can help the damage from the virus and decrease emotional activation and triggers. Specific breathing techniques can be taught by medical providers. An effective breathing technique to reduce anxiety is coherent breathing, which is done by inhaling 6 seconds and exhaling for 6 seconds without holding your breath. Behavioral health practitioners are available in the tribal and IHS mental health clinics to refer patients to therapy support to manage anxiety and are available by telemedicine. Many of these programs are offering social media informational sessions for the Navajo community. Navajo people often access traditional healing for protection prayers and ceremonies. Some of the tribal and IHS programs provide traditional counselors to talk to. The Navajo access healing that focuses on restoring balance to the body, mind, and spirit.

Taking action against the virus by social distancing, hand washing, and wearing masks can go a long way in reducing anxiety and fear about getting the virus. Resources to help the Navajo Nation are coming from all over the world, from as far as Ireland,⁹ Doctors Without Borders, ¹⁰ and University of San Francisco.¹¹

Two resources that provide relief on the reservation are the Navajo Relief Fund and United Natives.
 

References

1. Navaho Times. 2020 May 27.

2. Ingalls A et al. BMC Obes. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1186/s40608-019-0233-9.

3. U.S. Census 2010, as reported by discovernavajo.com.

4. Gould C et al. “Addressing food insecurity on the Navajo reservation through sustainable greenhouses.” 2018 Aug.

5. Native Knowledge 360. Smithsonian Institution. “Bosque Redondo.”

6. Personal communication, Carl Roessel Slater, Navajo Nation Council delegate.

7. IHS Profile Fact Sheet.

8. Wu X et al. medRxiv. 2020 Apr 27.

9. Carroll R. ”Irish support for Native American COVID-19 relief highlights historic bond.” The Guardian. 2020 May 9.

10. Capatides C. “Doctors Without Borders dispatches team to the Navajo Nation” CBS News. 2020 May 11.

11. Weiler N. “UCSF sends second wave of health workers to Navajo Nation.” UCSF.edu. 2020 May 21.
 

Dr. Roessel is a Navajo board-certified psychiatrist practicing in Santa Fe, N.M., working with the local indigenous population. She has special expertise in cultural psychiatry; her childhood was spent growing up in the Navajo Nation with her grandfather, who was a Navajo medicine man. Her psychiatric practice focuses on integrating indigenous knowledge and principles. Dr. Roessel is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association. She has no disclosures.

The Navajo people have dealt with adversity that has tested our strength and resilience since our creation. In Navajo culture, the Holy People or gods challenged us with Naayee (monsters). We endured and learned from each Naayee, hunger, and death to name a few adversities. The COVID-19 pandemic, or “Big Cough” (Dikos Nitsaa’igii -19 in Navajo language) is a monster confronting the Navajo today. It has had significant impact on our nation and people.

The Navajo have the most cases of the COVID-19 virus of any tribe in the United States, and numbers as of May 31, 2020, are 5,348, with 246 confirmed deaths.¹ The Navajo Nation, which once lagged behind New York, has reported the largest per-capita infection rate in the United States.

These devastating numbers, which might be leveling off, are associated with Navajo people having higher-than-average numbers of diabetes, heart disease, and cancer. This is compounded with 30%-40% of homes having no electricity or running water, and a poverty rate of about 38%.²

Geographical and cultural factors also contribute to the inability to gain a foothold in mitigating the number of cases. The Navajo Nation is the largest tribe in the United States, covering 27,000 square miles over an arid, red rock expanse with canyons and mountains. The population is over 250,000,³ and Navajo have traditionally lived in matrilineal clan units throughout the reservation, the size of West Virginia. The family traditional dwelling, called a “hogan,” often is clustered together. Multiple generations live together in these units. The COVID-19 virus inflicted many Navajo and rapidly spread to the elderly in these close-proximity living quarters.

Most Navajo live away from services and grocery stores and travel back and forth for food and water, which contributes to the virus rapidly being transmitted among the community members. Education aimed at curbing travel and spread of the virus was issued with curfews, commands to stay at home and keep social distance, and protect elders. The Navajo leadership and traditional medicine people, meanwhile, advised the people to follow their cultural values by caring for family and community members and providing a safe environment.
 

Resources are spread out

There are only 13 stores in this expansive reservation,⁴ so tribal members rely on traveling to border towns, such as Farmington and Gallup, N.M., Families usually travel to these towns on weekends to replenish food and supplies. There has been a cluster of cases in Gallup, N.M., so to reduce the numbers, the town shut itself off from outsiders – including the Navajo people coming to buy food, do laundry, and get water and feed for livestock. This has affected and stressed the Navajo further in attempting to access necessities.

Access to health care is already challenging because of lack of transportation and distance. This has made it more difficult to access COVID-19 testing and more challenging to get the results back. The Indian Health Service has been the designated health care system for the Navajo since 1955. The Treaty of Bosque Redondo, signed by the Navajo in 1868, included the provision of health care, as well as education in exchange for tracts of land, that included the Navajo homeland or Dinetah.⁵

The Indian Health Service provides care with hospitals and clinics throughout the reservation. Some of the IHS facilities have been taken over by the Navajo, so there are four Navajo tribally controlled hospitals, along with one private hospital. Coordination of care for a pandemic is, therefore, more challenging to coordinate. This contributes to problems with coordination of the health care, establishing alternate care sites, accessing personal protective equipment, and providing testing sites. The Navajo Nation Council is working hard to equitably distribute the $600 million from the CARES Act.⁶

Dealing with the pandemic is compromised by chronic underfunding from the U.S. government. The treaty obligation of the U.S. government is to provide health care to all federally recognized Native Americans. The IHS, which has been designated to provide that care for a tribal person, gets one-third the Medicare dollars for health care provided for a person in the general population.⁷ Health factors have led to the public health issues of poorly controlled diabetes, obesity, and coronary artery disease, which is related to this underfunding and the high rate of COVID-19 cases. Parts of the reservation are also exposed to high levels of pollution from oil and gas wells from the coal-fueled power plants. Those exposed to these high levels of pollutions have a higher than average number of cases of COVID-19, higher than in areas where the pollution is markedly lower.⁸

The Navajo are having to rely on the strength and resilience of traditional Navajo culture and philosophy to confront this monster, Dikos Nitsaa’igii’ 19. We have relied on Western medicine and its limited resources but now need to empower the strength from our traditional ways of knowing. We have used this knowledge in times of adversity for hundreds of years. The Navajo elders and medicine people have reminded us we have dealt with monsters and know how to endure hardship and be resilient. This helps to ameliorate mental health conditions, but there are still issues that remain challenging.

Those having the virus go through times of shortness of breath, which produces anxiety and panic. The risk of death adds further stress, and for a family-oriented culture, the need to isolate from family adds further stress. For the elderly and young people with more serious disease having to go to the hospital alone without family, often far from home, is so challenging. Connecting family by phone or social media with those stricken is essential to decrease anxiety and isolation. Those infected with the virus can learn breathing exercises, which can help the damage from the virus and decrease emotional activation and triggers. Specific breathing techniques can be taught by medical providers. An effective breathing technique to reduce anxiety is coherent breathing, which is done by inhaling 6 seconds and exhaling for 6 seconds without holding your breath. Behavioral health practitioners are available in the tribal and IHS mental health clinics to refer patients to therapy support to manage anxiety and are available by telemedicine. Many of these programs are offering social media informational sessions for the Navajo community. Navajo people often access traditional healing for protection prayers and ceremonies. Some of the tribal and IHS programs provide traditional counselors to talk to. The Navajo access healing that focuses on restoring balance to the body, mind, and spirit.

Taking action against the virus by social distancing, hand washing, and wearing masks can go a long way in reducing anxiety and fear about getting the virus. Resources to help the Navajo Nation are coming from all over the world, from as far as Ireland,⁹ Doctors Without Borders, ¹⁰ and University of San Francisco.¹¹

Two resources that provide relief on the reservation are the Navajo Relief Fund and United Natives.
 

References

1. Navaho Times. 2020 May 27.

2. Ingalls A et al. BMC Obes. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1186/s40608-019-0233-9.

3. U.S. Census 2010, as reported by discovernavajo.com.

4. Gould C et al. “Addressing food insecurity on the Navajo reservation through sustainable greenhouses.” 2018 Aug.

5. Native Knowledge 360. Smithsonian Institution. “Bosque Redondo.”

6. Personal communication, Carl Roessel Slater, Navajo Nation Council delegate.

7. IHS Profile Fact Sheet.

8. Wu X et al. medRxiv. 2020 Apr 27.

9. Carroll R. ”Irish support for Native American COVID-19 relief highlights historic bond.” The Guardian. 2020 May 9.

10. Capatides C. “Doctors Without Borders dispatches team to the Navajo Nation” CBS News. 2020 May 11.

11. Weiler N. “UCSF sends second wave of health workers to Navajo Nation.” UCSF.edu. 2020 May 21.
 

Dr. Roessel is a Navajo board-certified psychiatrist practicing in Santa Fe, N.M., working with the local indigenous population. She has special expertise in cultural psychiatry; her childhood was spent growing up in the Navajo Nation with her grandfather, who was a Navajo medicine man. Her psychiatric practice focuses on integrating indigenous knowledge and principles. Dr. Roessel is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association. She has no disclosures.

The Navajo people have dealt with adversity that has tested our strength and resilience since our creation. In Navajo culture, the Holy People or gods challenged us with Naayee (monsters). We endured and learned from each Naayee, hunger, and death to name a few adversities. The COVID-19 pandemic, or “Big Cough” (Dikos Nitsaa’igii -19 in Navajo language) is a monster confronting the Navajo today. It has had significant impact on our nation and people.

The Navajo have the most cases of the COVID-19 virus of any tribe in the United States, and numbers as of May 31, 2020, are 5,348, with 246 confirmed deaths.¹ The Navajo Nation, which once lagged behind New York, has reported the largest per-capita infection rate in the United States.

These devastating numbers, which might be leveling off, are associated with Navajo people having higher-than-average numbers of diabetes, heart disease, and cancer. This is compounded with 30%-40% of homes having no electricity or running water, and a poverty rate of about 38%.²

Geographical and cultural factors also contribute to the inability to gain a foothold in mitigating the number of cases. The Navajo Nation is the largest tribe in the United States, covering 27,000 square miles over an arid, red rock expanse with canyons and mountains. The population is over 250,000,³ and Navajo have traditionally lived in matrilineal clan units throughout the reservation, the size of West Virginia. The family traditional dwelling, called a “hogan,” often is clustered together. Multiple generations live together in these units. The COVID-19 virus inflicted many Navajo and rapidly spread to the elderly in these close-proximity living quarters.

Most Navajo live away from services and grocery stores and travel back and forth for food and water, which contributes to the virus rapidly being transmitted among the community members. Education aimed at curbing travel and spread of the virus was issued with curfews, commands to stay at home and keep social distance, and protect elders. The Navajo leadership and traditional medicine people, meanwhile, advised the people to follow their cultural values by caring for family and community members and providing a safe environment.
 

Resources are spread out

There are only 13 stores in this expansive reservation,⁴ so tribal members rely on traveling to border towns, such as Farmington and Gallup, N.M., Families usually travel to these towns on weekends to replenish food and supplies. There has been a cluster of cases in Gallup, N.M., so to reduce the numbers, the town shut itself off from outsiders – including the Navajo people coming to buy food, do laundry, and get water and feed for livestock. This has affected and stressed the Navajo further in attempting to access necessities.

Access to health care is already challenging because of lack of transportation and distance. This has made it more difficult to access COVID-19 testing and more challenging to get the results back. The Indian Health Service has been the designated health care system for the Navajo since 1955. The Treaty of Bosque Redondo, signed by the Navajo in 1868, included the provision of health care, as well as education in exchange for tracts of land, that included the Navajo homeland or Dinetah.⁵

The Indian Health Service provides care with hospitals and clinics throughout the reservation. Some of the IHS facilities have been taken over by the Navajo, so there are four Navajo tribally controlled hospitals, along with one private hospital. Coordination of care for a pandemic is, therefore, more challenging to coordinate. This contributes to problems with coordination of the health care, establishing alternate care sites, accessing personal protective equipment, and providing testing sites. The Navajo Nation Council is working hard to equitably distribute the $600 million from the CARES Act.⁶

Dealing with the pandemic is compromised by chronic underfunding from the U.S. government. The treaty obligation of the U.S. government is to provide health care to all federally recognized Native Americans. The IHS, which has been designated to provide that care for a tribal person, gets one-third the Medicare dollars for health care provided for a person in the general population.⁷ Health factors have led to the public health issues of poorly controlled diabetes, obesity, and coronary artery disease, which is related to this underfunding and the high rate of COVID-19 cases. Parts of the reservation are also exposed to high levels of pollution from oil and gas wells from the coal-fueled power plants. Those exposed to these high levels of pollutions have a higher than average number of cases of COVID-19, higher than in areas where the pollution is markedly lower.⁸

The Navajo are having to rely on the strength and resilience of traditional Navajo culture and philosophy to confront this monster, Dikos Nitsaa’igii’ 19. We have relied on Western medicine and its limited resources but now need to empower the strength from our traditional ways of knowing. We have used this knowledge in times of adversity for hundreds of years. The Navajo elders and medicine people have reminded us we have dealt with monsters and know how to endure hardship and be resilient. This helps to ameliorate mental health conditions, but there are still issues that remain challenging.

Those having the virus go through times of shortness of breath, which produces anxiety and panic. The risk of death adds further stress, and for a family-oriented culture, the need to isolate from family adds further stress. For the elderly and young people with more serious disease having to go to the hospital alone without family, often far from home, is so challenging. Connecting family by phone or social media with those stricken is essential to decrease anxiety and isolation. Those infected with the virus can learn breathing exercises, which can help the damage from the virus and decrease emotional activation and triggers. Specific breathing techniques can be taught by medical providers. An effective breathing technique to reduce anxiety is coherent breathing, which is done by inhaling 6 seconds and exhaling for 6 seconds without holding your breath. Behavioral health practitioners are available in the tribal and IHS mental health clinics to refer patients to therapy support to manage anxiety and are available by telemedicine. Many of these programs are offering social media informational sessions for the Navajo community. Navajo people often access traditional healing for protection prayers and ceremonies. Some of the tribal and IHS programs provide traditional counselors to talk to. The Navajo access healing that focuses on restoring balance to the body, mind, and spirit.

Taking action against the virus by social distancing, hand washing, and wearing masks can go a long way in reducing anxiety and fear about getting the virus. Resources to help the Navajo Nation are coming from all over the world, from as far as Ireland,⁹ Doctors Without Borders, ¹⁰ and University of San Francisco.¹¹

Two resources that provide relief on the reservation are the Navajo Relief Fund and United Natives.
 

References

1. Navaho Times. 2020 May 27.

2. Ingalls A et al. BMC Obes. 2019 May 6. doi: 10.1186/s40608-019-0233-9.

3. U.S. Census 2010, as reported by discovernavajo.com.

4. Gould C et al. “Addressing food insecurity on the Navajo reservation through sustainable greenhouses.” 2018 Aug.

5. Native Knowledge 360. Smithsonian Institution. “Bosque Redondo.”

6. Personal communication, Carl Roessel Slater, Navajo Nation Council delegate.

7. IHS Profile Fact Sheet.

8. Wu X et al. medRxiv. 2020 Apr 27.

9. Carroll R. ”Irish support for Native American COVID-19 relief highlights historic bond.” The Guardian. 2020 May 9.

10. Capatides C. “Doctors Without Borders dispatches team to the Navajo Nation” CBS News. 2020 May 11.

11. Weiler N. “UCSF sends second wave of health workers to Navajo Nation.” UCSF.edu. 2020 May 21.
 

Dr. Roessel is a Navajo board-certified psychiatrist practicing in Santa Fe, N.M., working with the local indigenous population. She has special expertise in cultural psychiatry; her childhood was spent growing up in the Navajo Nation with her grandfather, who was a Navajo medicine man. Her psychiatric practice focuses on integrating indigenous knowledge and principles. Dr. Roessel is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association. She has no disclosures.

While many across the world who have access to Netflix and other streaming services have been on lockdown, the second season of Ricky Gervais’s dark comedy series, “After Life,” was released. The show will also return for a third season.

The setup of the show is that Lisa, the wife of Gervais’s protagonist, Tony, has died of breast cancer. Knowing that he would need help after, she made him a video guide to life without her, ranging from the mundane of a garbage day or house alarm to feeding their dog Brandy, tidying the house, and constantly reminding him to take care of himself.

When we first see Tony, he is not doing great on self-care, and he has turned his grief into a “super power” allowing himself to do or say whatever he wants to – from pretending to reprimand his dog for calling a man (who had just told him his dog should be on a lead) a “fat hairy nosy !#$%&” to getting into a name-calling exchange with a primary school child. He later (jokingly) threatens this same child with a hammer, so that the child will stop bullying his nephew.

Tony works as the head of features for the Tambury Gazette, the free local paper. The comedy is full of the hometown charm with Tony and the photographer, Lenny, visiting the homes of the interesting personalities who have called into the paper with their small-town newsworthy stories.

Colorful characters abound in his town, including Postman Pat, who pops in and helps himself to a bath. Tony develops an unlikely friendship with a sex worker whom he hires to clean his house – since she said that she would do “anything for 50 quid.”

Tony, in the midst of an existential crisis, visits his wife’s grave frequently. While there, he meets an older widow, Anne, who befriends him and offers good advice. (Anne is played by Penelope Wilton of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Downton Abbey.)

Tony also dutifully visits his father daily at the Autumnal Leaves Care Home. His father has dementia and keeps asking about Lisa, forgetting that she is dead. Tony comments that if his father were a dog, he would euthanize him. In actuality, Tony’s dog, Brandy, stops Tony’s potential suicide throughout the series.

Matt, who is Tony’s brother-in-law (and boss at the paper) describes Tony as “devastated, suicidal.” Tony explains that he can do and say what he wants, and “then when it all gets too much, I can always kill myself.” By season 2, Matt’s wife has left him, and he, too, needs to see the psychiatrist.

The problem is the Tambury psychiatrist (played by Paul Kaye). General psychiatrists in film have been described in various ways by the late Irving Schneider, MD, including Dr. Evil, Dr. Wonderful, and Dr. Dippy types. “Dr. Dippy’s Sanitarium” was a 1906 silent film in which Dr. Dippy is seen lacking in common sense but being harmless overall. Based on the behaviors displayed in and out of therapy, the Tambury psychiatrist could never be described as Dr. Wonderful, leading to the Dr. Evil or the Dr. Dippy options. He is certainly using patients for his own personal gratification (like a Dr. Evil might) and is certainly lacking in common sense and acting “crazier or more foolish than his patients”¹ (like a Dr. Dippy). However, this psychiatrist may need a category all to himself.

Reference

1. Schneider I. Am J Psychiatry. 1987 Aug;144(8):966-1002.

While many across the world who have access to Netflix and other streaming services have been on lockdown, the second season of Ricky Gervais’s dark comedy series, “After Life,” was released. The show will also return for a third season.

The setup of the show is that Lisa, the wife of Gervais’s protagonist, Tony, has died of breast cancer. Knowing that he would need help after, she made him a video guide to life without her, ranging from the mundane of a garbage day or house alarm to feeding their dog Brandy, tidying the house, and constantly reminding him to take care of himself.

When we first see Tony, he is not doing great on self-care, and he has turned his grief into a “super power” allowing himself to do or say whatever he wants to – from pretending to reprimand his dog for calling a man (who had just told him his dog should be on a lead) a “fat hairy nosy !#$%&” to getting into a name-calling exchange with a primary school child. He later (jokingly) threatens this same child with a hammer, so that the child will stop bullying his nephew.

Tony works as the head of features for the Tambury Gazette, the free local paper. The comedy is full of the hometown charm with Tony and the photographer, Lenny, visiting the homes of the interesting personalities who have called into the paper with their small-town newsworthy stories.

Colorful characters abound in his town, including Postman Pat, who pops in and helps himself to a bath. Tony develops an unlikely friendship with a sex worker whom he hires to clean his house – since she said that she would do “anything for 50 quid.”

Tony, in the midst of an existential crisis, visits his wife’s grave frequently. While there, he meets an older widow, Anne, who befriends him and offers good advice. (Anne is played by Penelope Wilton of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Downton Abbey.)

Tony also dutifully visits his father daily at the Autumnal Leaves Care Home. His father has dementia and keeps asking about Lisa, forgetting that she is dead. Tony comments that if his father were a dog, he would euthanize him. In actuality, Tony’s dog, Brandy, stops Tony’s potential suicide throughout the series.

Matt, who is Tony’s brother-in-law (and boss at the paper) describes Tony as “devastated, suicidal.” Tony explains that he can do and say what he wants, and “then when it all gets too much, I can always kill myself.” By season 2, Matt’s wife has left him, and he, too, needs to see the psychiatrist.

The problem is the Tambury psychiatrist (played by Paul Kaye). General psychiatrists in film have been described in various ways by the late Irving Schneider, MD, including Dr. Evil, Dr. Wonderful, and Dr. Dippy types. “Dr. Dippy’s Sanitarium” was a 1906 silent film in which Dr. Dippy is seen lacking in common sense but being harmless overall. Based on the behaviors displayed in and out of therapy, the Tambury psychiatrist could never be described as Dr. Wonderful, leading to the Dr. Evil or the Dr. Dippy options. He is certainly using patients for his own personal gratification (like a Dr. Evil might) and is certainly lacking in common sense and acting “crazier or more foolish than his patients”¹ (like a Dr. Dippy). However, this psychiatrist may need a category all to himself.

Reference

1. Schneider I. Am J Psychiatry. 1987 Aug;144(8):966-1002.

While many across the world who have access to Netflix and other streaming services have been on lockdown, the second season of Ricky Gervais’s dark comedy series, “After Life,” was released. The show will also return for a third season.

The setup of the show is that Lisa, the wife of Gervais’s protagonist, Tony, has died of breast cancer. Knowing that he would need help after, she made him a video guide to life without her, ranging from the mundane of a garbage day or house alarm to feeding their dog Brandy, tidying the house, and constantly reminding him to take care of himself.

When we first see Tony, he is not doing great on self-care, and he has turned his grief into a “super power” allowing himself to do or say whatever he wants to – from pretending to reprimand his dog for calling a man (who had just told him his dog should be on a lead) a “fat hairy nosy !#$%&” to getting into a name-calling exchange with a primary school child. He later (jokingly) threatens this same child with a hammer, so that the child will stop bullying his nephew.

Tony works as the head of features for the Tambury Gazette, the free local paper. The comedy is full of the hometown charm with Tony and the photographer, Lenny, visiting the homes of the interesting personalities who have called into the paper with their small-town newsworthy stories.

Colorful characters abound in his town, including Postman Pat, who pops in and helps himself to a bath. Tony develops an unlikely friendship with a sex worker whom he hires to clean his house – since she said that she would do “anything for 50 quid.”

Tony, in the midst of an existential crisis, visits his wife’s grave frequently. While there, he meets an older widow, Anne, who befriends him and offers good advice. (Anne is played by Penelope Wilton of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Downton Abbey.)

Tony also dutifully visits his father daily at the Autumnal Leaves Care Home. His father has dementia and keeps asking about Lisa, forgetting that she is dead. Tony comments that if his father were a dog, he would euthanize him. In actuality, Tony’s dog, Brandy, stops Tony’s potential suicide throughout the series.

Matt, who is Tony’s brother-in-law (and boss at the paper) describes Tony as “devastated, suicidal.” Tony explains that he can do and say what he wants, and “then when it all gets too much, I can always kill myself.” By season 2, Matt’s wife has left him, and he, too, needs to see the psychiatrist.

The problem is the Tambury psychiatrist (played by Paul Kaye). General psychiatrists in film have been described in various ways by the late Irving Schneider, MD, including Dr. Evil, Dr. Wonderful, and Dr. Dippy types. “Dr. Dippy’s Sanitarium” was a 1906 silent film in which Dr. Dippy is seen lacking in common sense but being harmless overall. Based on the behaviors displayed in and out of therapy, the Tambury psychiatrist could never be described as Dr. Wonderful, leading to the Dr. Evil or the Dr. Dippy options. He is certainly using patients for his own personal gratification (like a Dr. Evil might) and is certainly lacking in common sense and acting “crazier or more foolish than his patients”¹ (like a Dr. Dippy). However, this psychiatrist may need a category all to himself.

Reference

1. Schneider I. Am J Psychiatry. 1987 Aug;144(8):966-1002.

Prior to the current crisis of COVID-19, I had a critical view of the direction of our psychiatric field. We have given up on complicated psychotherapies in favor of dispensing medications. We have given up on complicated diagnostic assessments in favor of simple self-rated symptoms questionnaires. Many of us even chose to give up on seeing patients face to face in favor of practicing telepsychiatry in the comfort of our homes. Some even promoted a future of psychiatry in which psychiatrists treated patients through large spreadsheets of evidence-based rating tools following evidence-based algorithms without even ever meeting the patients.

I do not view this problem as unique to psychiatry but rather as part of a larger trend in society. For the past couple of years, Vivek Murthy, MD, the former U.S. surgeon general, has popularized the idea that we are in a loneliness epidemic, saying, “We live in the most technologically connected age in the history of civilization, yet rates of loneliness have doubled since the 1980s.” Despite having enumerable means to reach other human beings, so many of us feel distant and out of touch with others. This loneliness has a measurable impact on our well-being with one study that states, “Actual and perceived social isolation are both associated with increased risk for early mortality.”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, we were confronted with the largest challenge to our sense of connectedness in my lifetime. Throughout the past months, we have been asked to meet each other less frequently, do so through sterile means, and certainly not shake hands, hug, or embrace. The COVID-19 crisis has quickly made us all experts in telepsychiatry, remote work, and doing more with less. The COVID-19 crisis has asked many of us to put aside some of our human rituals like eating together, enjoying artistic experiences as a group, and touching, for the sake of saving lives.

For many, socially distancing has been a considerable added stressor – a stressor that continues to test humanity’s ability to be resilient. I am saddened by prior patients reaching out to seek comfort in these difficult times. I am touched by their desire to reconnect with someone they know, someone who feels familiar. I am surprised by the power of connection through phone and video calls. For some patients, despite the added burden, the current crisis has been an opportunity for their mental health and a reminder of the things that are important, including calling old friends and staying in touch with those who matter the most.

Yet, as the social restrictions continue, the stressors mount and the resilience becomes harder to find. Checking in on others can become a chore. The social norm to partake in fashion, and self-care, become harder to find. In some cases, even hygiene and our health take a side role. The weekly phone visits with a therapist can feel just as mundane and repetitive as life. Sleep becomes harder to find, and food loses its taste. At this point, we realize the humanity that we lost in all this.

In the past couple of months, we have all become much more aware of the fragility of connectedness. However, we should recognize that the impact was well on its way before the COVID-19 crisis. It is my opinion that psychiatry should champion the issue of human relations. I do not think that we need to wait for a new DSM diagnosis, an evidence-based paradigm, or a Food and Drug Administration–approved medication to do so. The COVID-19 crisis has rendered us all cognizant of the importance of relationships.

While it may be that psychiatry continues to foray in electronic means of communication, use of impersonal scales and diagnosis, as well as anonymized algorithmic treatment plans, we should also promote as much humanity as society and public health safety will permit. Getting dressed to see your psychiatrist, face to face, to have an open-ended conversation about the nature of one’s life has clearly become something precious and powerful that should be cherished and protected. My hope is the rules and mandates we are required to use during the pandemic today do not become a continued habit that result in further loneliness and disconnect. If we chose to, the lessons we learn today can, in fact, strengthen our appreciation and pursuit of human connection.
 

Dr. Badre is a forensic psychiatrist in San Diego and an expert in correctional mental health. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Among his writings is chapter 7 in the book “Critical Psychiatry: Controversies and Clinical Implications” (Springer, 2019). He has no disclosures.

Prior to the current crisis of COVID-19, I had a critical view of the direction of our psychiatric field. We have given up on complicated psychotherapies in favor of dispensing medications. We have given up on complicated diagnostic assessments in favor of simple self-rated symptoms questionnaires. Many of us even chose to give up on seeing patients face to face in favor of practicing telepsychiatry in the comfort of our homes. Some even promoted a future of psychiatry in which psychiatrists treated patients through large spreadsheets of evidence-based rating tools following evidence-based algorithms without even ever meeting the patients.

I do not view this problem as unique to psychiatry but rather as part of a larger trend in society. For the past couple of years, Vivek Murthy, MD, the former U.S. surgeon general, has popularized the idea that we are in a loneliness epidemic, saying, “We live in the most technologically connected age in the history of civilization, yet rates of loneliness have doubled since the 1980s.” Despite having enumerable means to reach other human beings, so many of us feel distant and out of touch with others. This loneliness has a measurable impact on our well-being with one study that states, “Actual and perceived social isolation are both associated with increased risk for early mortality.”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, we were confronted with the largest challenge to our sense of connectedness in my lifetime. Throughout the past months, we have been asked to meet each other less frequently, do so through sterile means, and certainly not shake hands, hug, or embrace. The COVID-19 crisis has quickly made us all experts in telepsychiatry, remote work, and doing more with less. The COVID-19 crisis has asked many of us to put aside some of our human rituals like eating together, enjoying artistic experiences as a group, and touching, for the sake of saving lives.

For many, socially distancing has been a considerable added stressor – a stressor that continues to test humanity’s ability to be resilient. I am saddened by prior patients reaching out to seek comfort in these difficult times. I am touched by their desire to reconnect with someone they know, someone who feels familiar. I am surprised by the power of connection through phone and video calls. For some patients, despite the added burden, the current crisis has been an opportunity for their mental health and a reminder of the things that are important, including calling old friends and staying in touch with those who matter the most.

Yet, as the social restrictions continue, the stressors mount and the resilience becomes harder to find. Checking in on others can become a chore. The social norm to partake in fashion, and self-care, become harder to find. In some cases, even hygiene and our health take a side role. The weekly phone visits with a therapist can feel just as mundane and repetitive as life. Sleep becomes harder to find, and food loses its taste. At this point, we realize the humanity that we lost in all this.

In the past couple of months, we have all become much more aware of the fragility of connectedness. However, we should recognize that the impact was well on its way before the COVID-19 crisis. It is my opinion that psychiatry should champion the issue of human relations. I do not think that we need to wait for a new DSM diagnosis, an evidence-based paradigm, or a Food and Drug Administration–approved medication to do so. The COVID-19 crisis has rendered us all cognizant of the importance of relationships.

While it may be that psychiatry continues to foray in electronic means of communication, use of impersonal scales and diagnosis, as well as anonymized algorithmic treatment plans, we should also promote as much humanity as society and public health safety will permit. Getting dressed to see your psychiatrist, face to face, to have an open-ended conversation about the nature of one’s life has clearly become something precious and powerful that should be cherished and protected. My hope is the rules and mandates we are required to use during the pandemic today do not become a continued habit that result in further loneliness and disconnect. If we chose to, the lessons we learn today can, in fact, strengthen our appreciation and pursuit of human connection.
 

Dr. Badre is a forensic psychiatrist in San Diego and an expert in correctional mental health. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Among his writings is chapter 7 in the book “Critical Psychiatry: Controversies and Clinical Implications” (Springer, 2019). He has no disclosures.

Prior to the current crisis of COVID-19, I had a critical view of the direction of our psychiatric field. We have given up on complicated psychotherapies in favor of dispensing medications. We have given up on complicated diagnostic assessments in favor of simple self-rated symptoms questionnaires. Many of us even chose to give up on seeing patients face to face in favor of practicing telepsychiatry in the comfort of our homes. Some even promoted a future of psychiatry in which psychiatrists treated patients through large spreadsheets of evidence-based rating tools following evidence-based algorithms without even ever meeting the patients.

I do not view this problem as unique to psychiatry but rather as part of a larger trend in society. For the past couple of years, Vivek Murthy, MD, the former U.S. surgeon general, has popularized the idea that we are in a loneliness epidemic, saying, “We live in the most technologically connected age in the history of civilization, yet rates of loneliness have doubled since the 1980s.” Despite having enumerable means to reach other human beings, so many of us feel distant and out of touch with others. This loneliness has a measurable impact on our well-being with one study that states, “Actual and perceived social isolation are both associated with increased risk for early mortality.”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, we were confronted with the largest challenge to our sense of connectedness in my lifetime. Throughout the past months, we have been asked to meet each other less frequently, do so through sterile means, and certainly not shake hands, hug, or embrace. The COVID-19 crisis has quickly made us all experts in telepsychiatry, remote work, and doing more with less. The COVID-19 crisis has asked many of us to put aside some of our human rituals like eating together, enjoying artistic experiences as a group, and touching, for the sake of saving lives.

For many, socially distancing has been a considerable added stressor – a stressor that continues to test humanity’s ability to be resilient. I am saddened by prior patients reaching out to seek comfort in these difficult times. I am touched by their desire to reconnect with someone they know, someone who feels familiar. I am surprised by the power of connection through phone and video calls. For some patients, despite the added burden, the current crisis has been an opportunity for their mental health and a reminder of the things that are important, including calling old friends and staying in touch with those who matter the most.

Yet, as the social restrictions continue, the stressors mount and the resilience becomes harder to find. Checking in on others can become a chore. The social norm to partake in fashion, and self-care, become harder to find. In some cases, even hygiene and our health take a side role. The weekly phone visits with a therapist can feel just as mundane and repetitive as life. Sleep becomes harder to find, and food loses its taste. At this point, we realize the humanity that we lost in all this.

In the past couple of months, we have all become much more aware of the fragility of connectedness. However, we should recognize that the impact was well on its way before the COVID-19 crisis. It is my opinion that psychiatry should champion the issue of human relations. I do not think that we need to wait for a new DSM diagnosis, an evidence-based paradigm, or a Food and Drug Administration–approved medication to do so. The COVID-19 crisis has rendered us all cognizant of the importance of relationships.

While it may be that psychiatry continues to foray in electronic means of communication, use of impersonal scales and diagnosis, as well as anonymized algorithmic treatment plans, we should also promote as much humanity as society and public health safety will permit. Getting dressed to see your psychiatrist, face to face, to have an open-ended conversation about the nature of one’s life has clearly become something precious and powerful that should be cherished and protected. My hope is the rules and mandates we are required to use during the pandemic today do not become a continued habit that result in further loneliness and disconnect. If we chose to, the lessons we learn today can, in fact, strengthen our appreciation and pursuit of human connection.
 

Dr. Badre is a forensic psychiatrist in San Diego and an expert in correctional mental health. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Among his writings is chapter 7 in the book “Critical Psychiatry: Controversies and Clinical Implications” (Springer, 2019). He has no disclosures.

This morning, Megan A. Adams (a GI & Hepatology News Associate Editor and a Michigan faculty member) and I held an hour-long video conference with all of our Michigan GI fellows. Our four third-year fellows talked about their job search and employment plans for July. Three will join academic centers (UNC, University of Wisconsin, Henry Ford) and one will enter private practice (Atlanta Gastroenterology). I was glad to hear that all had been reassured that their positions were secure despite the COVID-19 impact. As I speak with colleagues across the country, all (whether health system physicians, academic faculty, or community gastroenterologists) are experiencing the financial, emotional, and operational effects of this pandemic. This is an experience that will define our professional careers.

As one of three chief clinical officers at Michigan Medicine, I am part of a four-person team that leads the faculty medical group and the ambulatory portion of our health system. Each of our segments (ambulatory, adult hospital, children’s hospital, and medical school) have targets for sustained cost reductions that total $400 million and Michigan Medicine (as published in the news) plans to reduce our workforce (nonfaculty) by 1,400. We have a hiring freeze, leaders are taking salary reductions, and we have instituted other painful, cost-saving measures. The physician leaders we hired just 12 months ago to oversee a new faculty group structure were thrust into a firestorm. Department chairs, division chiefs, nursing and administrative leaders all are having to make heart-wrenching cost-cutting decisions. Together, we have to make individual reductions in force or retain decisions about people we work with daily. This emotional toll will never truly heal for anyone involved.

There will be little time to recover. We are scrambling to reopen safely, with a planned process. We have a backlog of 12,000 surgeries and 8,000 endoscopy procedures that have been deferred. Eight-hundred children are behind in their well-child medical care, frightened patients are sitting home with critical aortic stenosis, dangerous hypertension, growing cancers, and other urgent medical needs. Private practices are facing the same issues, financial pressures, and emotional toll.

Anna Quindlen once said, “Grief is a whisper in the world, but a clamor within.” Recognize the toll this is taking and don’t be alone with your grief.

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

This morning, Megan A. Adams (a GI & Hepatology News Associate Editor and a Michigan faculty member) and I held an hour-long video conference with all of our Michigan GI fellows. Our four third-year fellows talked about their job search and employment plans for July. Three will join academic centers (UNC, University of Wisconsin, Henry Ford) and one will enter private practice (Atlanta Gastroenterology). I was glad to hear that all had been reassured that their positions were secure despite the COVID-19 impact. As I speak with colleagues across the country, all (whether health system physicians, academic faculty, or community gastroenterologists) are experiencing the financial, emotional, and operational effects of this pandemic. This is an experience that will define our professional careers.

As one of three chief clinical officers at Michigan Medicine, I am part of a four-person team that leads the faculty medical group and the ambulatory portion of our health system. Each of our segments (ambulatory, adult hospital, children’s hospital, and medical school) have targets for sustained cost reductions that total $400 million and Michigan Medicine (as published in the news) plans to reduce our workforce (nonfaculty) by 1,400. We have a hiring freeze, leaders are taking salary reductions, and we have instituted other painful, cost-saving measures. The physician leaders we hired just 12 months ago to oversee a new faculty group structure were thrust into a firestorm. Department chairs, division chiefs, nursing and administrative leaders all are having to make heart-wrenching cost-cutting decisions. Together, we have to make individual reductions in force or retain decisions about people we work with daily. This emotional toll will never truly heal for anyone involved.

There will be little time to recover. We are scrambling to reopen safely, with a planned process. We have a backlog of 12,000 surgeries and 8,000 endoscopy procedures that have been deferred. Eight-hundred children are behind in their well-child medical care, frightened patients are sitting home with critical aortic stenosis, dangerous hypertension, growing cancers, and other urgent medical needs. Private practices are facing the same issues, financial pressures, and emotional toll.

Anna Quindlen once said, “Grief is a whisper in the world, but a clamor within.” Recognize the toll this is taking and don’t be alone with your grief.

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

This morning, Megan A. Adams (a GI & Hepatology News Associate Editor and a Michigan faculty member) and I held an hour-long video conference with all of our Michigan GI fellows. Our four third-year fellows talked about their job search and employment plans for July. Three will join academic centers (UNC, University of Wisconsin, Henry Ford) and one will enter private practice (Atlanta Gastroenterology). I was glad to hear that all had been reassured that their positions were secure despite the COVID-19 impact. As I speak with colleagues across the country, all (whether health system physicians, academic faculty, or community gastroenterologists) are experiencing the financial, emotional, and operational effects of this pandemic. This is an experience that will define our professional careers.

As one of three chief clinical officers at Michigan Medicine, I am part of a four-person team that leads the faculty medical group and the ambulatory portion of our health system. Each of our segments (ambulatory, adult hospital, children’s hospital, and medical school) have targets for sustained cost reductions that total $400 million and Michigan Medicine (as published in the news) plans to reduce our workforce (nonfaculty) by 1,400. We have a hiring freeze, leaders are taking salary reductions, and we have instituted other painful, cost-saving measures. The physician leaders we hired just 12 months ago to oversee a new faculty group structure were thrust into a firestorm. Department chairs, division chiefs, nursing and administrative leaders all are having to make heart-wrenching cost-cutting decisions. Together, we have to make individual reductions in force or retain decisions about people we work with daily. This emotional toll will never truly heal for anyone involved.

There will be little time to recover. We are scrambling to reopen safely, with a planned process. We have a backlog of 12,000 surgeries and 8,000 endoscopy procedures that have been deferred. Eight-hundred children are behind in their well-child medical care, frightened patients are sitting home with critical aortic stenosis, dangerous hypertension, growing cancers, and other urgent medical needs. Private practices are facing the same issues, financial pressures, and emotional toll.

Anna Quindlen once said, “Grief is a whisper in the world, but a clamor within.” Recognize the toll this is taking and don’t be alone with your grief.

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

On March 9 my team was given a directive by the chief medical officer of our health system. We were charged with opening a drive-through COVID-19 testing center for our community in just 2 days’ time. It seemed like an impossible task, involving the mobilization of people, processes, and technology at a scale and speed we had never before achieved. It turned out getting this done was impossible. In spite of our best efforts, we failed to meet the deadline – it actually took us 3 days. Still, by March 12, we had opened the doors on the first community testing site in our area and gained the attention of local and national news outlets for our accomplishment.

Now more than 2 months later, I’m quite proud of what our team was able to achieve for the health system, but I’m still quite frustrated at the state of COVID-19 testing nationwide – there’s simply not enough available, and there is tremendous variability in the reliability of the tests. In this column, we’d like to highlight some of the challenges we’ve faced and reflect on how the shortcomings of modern technology have once again proven that medicine is both a science and an art.
 

Our dangerous lack of preparation

Prior to the coronavirus pandemic, I had never considered surgical masks, face shields, and nasal swabs to be critical components of medical technology. My opinion quickly changed after opening our drive-through COVID-19 site. I now have a much greater appreciation for the importance of personal protective equipment and basic testing supplies.

I was shocked by how difficult obtaining it has been during the past few months. It seems that no one anticipated the possibility of a pandemic on this grand a scale, so stockpiles of equipment were depleted quickly and couldn’t be replenished. Also, most manufacturing occurs outside the United States, which creates additional barriers to controlling the supply chain. One need not look far to find stories of widespread price-gouging, black market racketeering, and even hijackings that have stood in the way of accessing the necessary supplies. Sadly, the lack of equipment is far from the only challenge we’ve faced. In some cases, it has been a mistrust of results that has prevented widespread testing and mitigation.
 

The risks of flying blind

When President Trump touted the introduction of a rapid COVID-19 test at the end of March, many people were excited. Promising positive results in as few as 5 minutes, the assay was granted an Emergency Use Authorization (EUA) by the Food and Drug Administration in order to expedite its availability in the market. According to the FDA’s website, an EUA allows “unapproved medical products or unapproved uses of approved medical products to be used in an emergency to diagnose, treat, or prevent serious or life-threatening diseases or conditions.” This rapid (though untested) approval was all that many health care providers needed to hear – immediately hospitals and physicians scrambled to get their hands on the testing devices. Unfortunately, on May 14th, the FDA issued a press release that raised concerns about that same test because it seemed to be reporting a high number of false-negative results. Just as quickly as the devices had been adopted, health care providers began backing away from them in favor of other assays, and a serious truth about COVID-19 testing was revealed: In many ways, we’re flying blind.

Laboratory manufacturers have been working overtime to create assays for SARS-CoV-2 (the coronavirus that causes COVID-19) and have used different technologies for detection. The most commonly used are polymerase chain reaction (PCR) tests. In these assays, viral RNA is converted to DNA by reverse transcriptase, then amplified through the addition of primers that enable detection. PCR technology has been available for years and is a reliable method for identifying DNA and RNA, but the required heating and cooling process takes time and results can take several hours to return. To address this and expedite testing, other methods of detection have been tried, such as the loop-mediated isothermal amplification (LAMP) technique employed by the rapid assay mentioned above. Regardless of methodology, all laboratory tests have one thing in common: None of them is perfect.

Every assay has a different level of reliability. When screening for a disease such as COVID-19, we are particularly interested in a test’s sensitivity (that is, it’s ability to detect disease); we’d love such a screening test to be 100% sensitive and thereby not miss a single case. In truth, no test’s sensitivity is 100%, and in this particular case even the best assays only score around 98%. This means that out of every 100 patients with COVID-19 who are evaluated, two might test negative for the virus. In a pandemic this can have dire consequences, so health care providers – unable to fully trust their instruments – must employ clinical acumen and years of experience to navigate these cloudy skies. We are hopeful that additional tools will complement our current methods, but with new assays also come new questions.
 

Is anyone safe?

We receive regular questions from physicians about the value of antibody testing, but it’s not yet clear how best to respond. While the assays seem to be reliable, the utility of the results are still ill defined. Antibodies to SARS-CoV-2 (both IgG and IgM) appear to peak about 2-3 weeks after symptom onset, but we don’t yet know if the presence of those antibodies confers long-term immunity. Therefore, patients should not use the information to change their masking or social-distancing practices, nor should they presume that they are safe from becoming reinfected with COVID-19. While new research looks promising, there are still too many unknowns to be able to confidently reassure providers or patients of the true value of antibody testing. This underscores our final point: Medicine remains an art.

As we are regularly reminded, we’ll never fully anticipate the challenges or barriers to success, and technology will never replace the value of clinical judgment and human experience. While the situation is unsettling in many ways, we are reassured and encouraged by the role we still get to play in keeping our patients healthy in this health care crisis, and we’ll continue to do so through whatever the future holds.
 

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington Lansdale (Pa.) Hospital - Jefferson Health. Follow him on Twitter (@doctornotte). Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.
 

On March 9 my team was given a directive by the chief medical officer of our health system. We were charged with opening a drive-through COVID-19 testing center for our community in just 2 days’ time. It seemed like an impossible task, involving the mobilization of people, processes, and technology at a scale and speed we had never before achieved. It turned out getting this done was impossible. In spite of our best efforts, we failed to meet the deadline – it actually took us 3 days. Still, by March 12, we had opened the doors on the first community testing site in our area and gained the attention of local and national news outlets for our accomplishment.

Now more than 2 months later, I’m quite proud of what our team was able to achieve for the health system, but I’m still quite frustrated at the state of COVID-19 testing nationwide – there’s simply not enough available, and there is tremendous variability in the reliability of the tests. In this column, we’d like to highlight some of the challenges we’ve faced and reflect on how the shortcomings of modern technology have once again proven that medicine is both a science and an art.
 

Our dangerous lack of preparation

Prior to the coronavirus pandemic, I had never considered surgical masks, face shields, and nasal swabs to be critical components of medical technology. My opinion quickly changed after opening our drive-through COVID-19 site. I now have a much greater appreciation for the importance of personal protective equipment and basic testing supplies.

I was shocked by how difficult obtaining it has been during the past few months. It seems that no one anticipated the possibility of a pandemic on this grand a scale, so stockpiles of equipment were depleted quickly and couldn’t be replenished. Also, most manufacturing occurs outside the United States, which creates additional barriers to controlling the supply chain. One need not look far to find stories of widespread price-gouging, black market racketeering, and even hijackings that have stood in the way of accessing the necessary supplies. Sadly, the lack of equipment is far from the only challenge we’ve faced. In some cases, it has been a mistrust of results that has prevented widespread testing and mitigation.
 

The risks of flying blind

When President Trump touted the introduction of a rapid COVID-19 test at the end of March, many people were excited. Promising positive results in as few as 5 minutes, the assay was granted an Emergency Use Authorization (EUA) by the Food and Drug Administration in order to expedite its availability in the market. According to the FDA’s website, an EUA allows “unapproved medical products or unapproved uses of approved medical products to be used in an emergency to diagnose, treat, or prevent serious or life-threatening diseases or conditions.” This rapid (though untested) approval was all that many health care providers needed to hear – immediately hospitals and physicians scrambled to get their hands on the testing devices. Unfortunately, on May 14th, the FDA issued a press release that raised concerns about that same test because it seemed to be reporting a high number of false-negative results. Just as quickly as the devices had been adopted, health care providers began backing away from them in favor of other assays, and a serious truth about COVID-19 testing was revealed: In many ways, we’re flying blind.

Laboratory manufacturers have been working overtime to create assays for SARS-CoV-2 (the coronavirus that causes COVID-19) and have used different technologies for detection. The most commonly used are polymerase chain reaction (PCR) tests. In these assays, viral RNA is converted to DNA by reverse transcriptase, then amplified through the addition of primers that enable detection. PCR technology has been available for years and is a reliable method for identifying DNA and RNA, but the required heating and cooling process takes time and results can take several hours to return. To address this and expedite testing, other methods of detection have been tried, such as the loop-mediated isothermal amplification (LAMP) technique employed by the rapid assay mentioned above. Regardless of methodology, all laboratory tests have one thing in common: None of them is perfect.

Every assay has a different level of reliability. When screening for a disease such as COVID-19, we are particularly interested in a test’s sensitivity (that is, it’s ability to detect disease); we’d love such a screening test to be 100% sensitive and thereby not miss a single case. In truth, no test’s sensitivity is 100%, and in this particular case even the best assays only score around 98%. This means that out of every 100 patients with COVID-19 who are evaluated, two might test negative for the virus. In a pandemic this can have dire consequences, so health care providers – unable to fully trust their instruments – must employ clinical acumen and years of experience to navigate these cloudy skies. We are hopeful that additional tools will complement our current methods, but with new assays also come new questions.
 

Is anyone safe?

We receive regular questions from physicians about the value of antibody testing, but it’s not yet clear how best to respond. While the assays seem to be reliable, the utility of the results are still ill defined. Antibodies to SARS-CoV-2 (both IgG and IgM) appear to peak about 2-3 weeks after symptom onset, but we don’t yet know if the presence of those antibodies confers long-term immunity. Therefore, patients should not use the information to change their masking or social-distancing practices, nor should they presume that they are safe from becoming reinfected with COVID-19. While new research looks promising, there are still too many unknowns to be able to confidently reassure providers or patients of the true value of antibody testing. This underscores our final point: Medicine remains an art.

As we are regularly reminded, we’ll never fully anticipate the challenges or barriers to success, and technology will never replace the value of clinical judgment and human experience. While the situation is unsettling in many ways, we are reassured and encouraged by the role we still get to play in keeping our patients healthy in this health care crisis, and we’ll continue to do so through whatever the future holds.
 

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington Lansdale (Pa.) Hospital - Jefferson Health. Follow him on Twitter (@doctornotte). Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.
 

On March 9 my team was given a directive by the chief medical officer of our health system. We were charged with opening a drive-through COVID-19 testing center for our community in just 2 days’ time. It seemed like an impossible task, involving the mobilization of people, processes, and technology at a scale and speed we had never before achieved. It turned out getting this done was impossible. In spite of our best efforts, we failed to meet the deadline – it actually took us 3 days. Still, by March 12, we had opened the doors on the first community testing site in our area and gained the attention of local and national news outlets for our accomplishment.

Now more than 2 months later, I’m quite proud of what our team was able to achieve for the health system, but I’m still quite frustrated at the state of COVID-19 testing nationwide – there’s simply not enough available, and there is tremendous variability in the reliability of the tests. In this column, we’d like to highlight some of the challenges we’ve faced and reflect on how the shortcomings of modern technology have once again proven that medicine is both a science and an art.
 

Our dangerous lack of preparation

Prior to the coronavirus pandemic, I had never considered surgical masks, face shields, and nasal swabs to be critical components of medical technology. My opinion quickly changed after opening our drive-through COVID-19 site. I now have a much greater appreciation for the importance of personal protective equipment and basic testing supplies.

I was shocked by how difficult obtaining it has been during the past few months. It seems that no one anticipated the possibility of a pandemic on this grand a scale, so stockpiles of equipment were depleted quickly and couldn’t be replenished. Also, most manufacturing occurs outside the United States, which creates additional barriers to controlling the supply chain. One need not look far to find stories of widespread price-gouging, black market racketeering, and even hijackings that have stood in the way of accessing the necessary supplies. Sadly, the lack of equipment is far from the only challenge we’ve faced. In some cases, it has been a mistrust of results that has prevented widespread testing and mitigation.
 

The risks of flying blind

When President Trump touted the introduction of a rapid COVID-19 test at the end of March, many people were excited. Promising positive results in as few as 5 minutes, the assay was granted an Emergency Use Authorization (EUA) by the Food and Drug Administration in order to expedite its availability in the market. According to the FDA’s website, an EUA allows “unapproved medical products or unapproved uses of approved medical products to be used in an emergency to diagnose, treat, or prevent serious or life-threatening diseases or conditions.” This rapid (though untested) approval was all that many health care providers needed to hear – immediately hospitals and physicians scrambled to get their hands on the testing devices. Unfortunately, on May 14th, the FDA issued a press release that raised concerns about that same test because it seemed to be reporting a high number of false-negative results. Just as quickly as the devices had been adopted, health care providers began backing away from them in favor of other assays, and a serious truth about COVID-19 testing was revealed: In many ways, we’re flying blind.

Laboratory manufacturers have been working overtime to create assays for SARS-CoV-2 (the coronavirus that causes COVID-19) and have used different technologies for detection. The most commonly used are polymerase chain reaction (PCR) tests. In these assays, viral RNA is converted to DNA by reverse transcriptase, then amplified through the addition of primers that enable detection. PCR technology has been available for years and is a reliable method for identifying DNA and RNA, but the required heating and cooling process takes time and results can take several hours to return. To address this and expedite testing, other methods of detection have been tried, such as the loop-mediated isothermal amplification (LAMP) technique employed by the rapid assay mentioned above. Regardless of methodology, all laboratory tests have one thing in common: None of them is perfect.

Every assay has a different level of reliability. When screening for a disease such as COVID-19, we are particularly interested in a test’s sensitivity (that is, it’s ability to detect disease); we’d love such a screening test to be 100% sensitive and thereby not miss a single case. In truth, no test’s sensitivity is 100%, and in this particular case even the best assays only score around 98%. This means that out of every 100 patients with COVID-19 who are evaluated, two might test negative for the virus. In a pandemic this can have dire consequences, so health care providers – unable to fully trust their instruments – must employ clinical acumen and years of experience to navigate these cloudy skies. We are hopeful that additional tools will complement our current methods, but with new assays also come new questions.
 

Is anyone safe?

We receive regular questions from physicians about the value of antibody testing, but it’s not yet clear how best to respond. While the assays seem to be reliable, the utility of the results are still ill defined. Antibodies to SARS-CoV-2 (both IgG and IgM) appear to peak about 2-3 weeks after symptom onset, but we don’t yet know if the presence of those antibodies confers long-term immunity. Therefore, patients should not use the information to change their masking or social-distancing practices, nor should they presume that they are safe from becoming reinfected with COVID-19. While new research looks promising, there are still too many unknowns to be able to confidently reassure providers or patients of the true value of antibody testing. This underscores our final point: Medicine remains an art.

As we are regularly reminded, we’ll never fully anticipate the challenges or barriers to success, and technology will never replace the value of clinical judgment and human experience. While the situation is unsettling in many ways, we are reassured and encouraged by the role we still get to play in keeping our patients healthy in this health care crisis, and we’ll continue to do so through whatever the future holds.
 

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington Lansdale (Pa.) Hospital - Jefferson Health. Follow him on Twitter (@doctornotte). Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.
 

One of hardest parts of being an obstetrician is taking care of patients who experience a stillbirth. I am very comfortable with the care of a grieving patient and I always have been, although I am not sure why. I have a model of care that I have evolved in my 16 years since medical school graduation. This model is not based on formal instruction because I received none, but on my natural instincts of what a grieving mom and her family need to hear and receive in the worst moments of their lives. All obstetrics providers grieve the loss of the baby, but often not with the patient but on our own. We may do this because we want to respect the patient’s privacy or because we are not sure of the words to say. I hope I can provide some guidance for those who struggle with what to do.

SDI Productions/E+

I delivered my first stillborn baby as a third-year medical student. My mentor, a chief resident, saw something in me and encouraged me to care for this mother. She had twins and one baby was still living, but the prognosis was poor since this was the surviving twin from a monochorionic diamniotic pregnancy. On the day of the mom’s induction, I just pulled up a chair and talked with her. We talked about her life, the loss of the first baby several weeks before, and her hope that her surviving son would be okay. She felt so bonded to me that she refused to push until I was there. Her delivery is still firm in my mind. I still remember 17 years later the room she delivered in.

My first loss (stillbirth) as a resident was my intern year – a beautiful baby named Jude, who was stillborn at 39 weeks. After delivering Jude, I asked the family about the funeral arrangements. Three days later, I attended his funeral. I looked all around for the mother’s attending doctors but none of them were there. I remember thinking then that it was a given that they would be there, but now I know that it is rare. I also learned a lot about the grief a stillborn baby brings while listening to Jude’s father’s eulogy. He talked about how Jude would never bake cookies with Aunt Jane, ride the slide with cousin Chris, or put on a yellow backpack and ride the bus on the first day of school. Because of this eulogy, I understood this unique kind of grief that these losses bring early in my training.

I delivered many losses in my residency. The attendings left soon after the birth and I stayed behind with the family. I sat and counseled the families, and I helped them make memories. I realized that to care for these patients, I would need to trust my instincts because there was no formal and little informal training on how to care for families who lost their babies.

Once I completed residency, I was really able to do my “thing.” At loss deliveries, I was able to model for residents my method of care. I showed them that families want and need attention, support, and guidance. I modeled for them how to deliver and greet the baby. That it is not necessary to leave the room right after the birth, and it is okay to grieve and help families meet their babies. I modeled commenting on the baby’s features, on who they looked like. I showed how laughing about how the baby has grandma’s nose is okay. I showed them that it is okay to ask to hold and get a picture taken with the baby. I showed them that these are the only moments these families will get with their babies, and it is our job to help them do this. The family will have many moments alone in the days and weeks to come. They need our support and guidance. It is a part of being an ob.gyn. to care for families after stillbirths, and we do not want our patients to feel abandoned during this time by those they entrust to care for them.

I also was able to create a model for aftercare. I call my families often after they go home. Sometimes I catch them in the anger stage of the grief process and I let them vent. I work through this with them, and I answer their hardest and sometimes accusatory questions regarding care leading up to the diagnosis. I am not saying this is easy for me or for them. I think fear of these tough conversations is a barrier to giving the emotional support that these families need. I work through this with them in an honest and open manner. I also call to check on the patients as much as possible, especially on anniversaries. I am not saying that all providers must follow this model. This is my passion and is natural for me, but data clearly show that the standard of emotional care we provide is not what patients need at this time. Thankfully, there is an amazing resource of grief counselors, social workers, online resources, and support groups for these families to help them get through the tragedy. These resources, however, are not the provider who spent this precious time with them and their beloved baby, and our emotional support is invaluable.

This past year has been very eventful for me. One of my patients delivered a new baby, after a prior loss, and asked if we could teach together. I had mentioned that everything I do with stillbirths is not based on my residency education, but on my experience and instinctual feeling of what families need. She knew from friends in bereavement circles that they felt that their care was different. We started teaching last summer and have done 10 training sessions to date; hopefully we will continue to teach new groups of nurses, residents, medical students, doulas, and physician assistant students each year.

This year also was eventful because I discovered the Star Legacy Foundation, a national not-for-profit organization with the goal of spreading awareness, education, and prevention regarding stillbirth. I attended their 2019 Summit in Minnesota. I thought I would meet many more doctors and midwives like myself, and I would learn even more about care for bereaved patients. However, that summer I learned preventing stillbirth may be possible from the then chief medical officer of Scotland, Catherine Calderwood, MB ChB. She talked about the preventive protocol she had created that had reduced the stillbirth rate by 23%. Because I was one of only five ob.gyn. nonspeaker attendees in a room of 400, I realized I had a real opportunity to try to bring some model for prevention to the United States. I brought the U.K. protocol to my practice and we have been doing it now for 9 months. (See “Decreased fetal movement: Time to educate patients and ourselves” at mdedge.com/pediatrics.)

I have had a year to think about why the U.S. stillbirth rate is higher than that of many high-income nations and why we have the lowest annual rate of reduction in the 2016 Lancet series among high resource nations.¹ I think it is due to lack of education and training for providers in stillbirth prevention and care, which has led to further marginalization and stigmatization of bereaved moms. This has pushed them further into the shadows and makes it taboo to share their stories. It is providers being fearful to even mention to patients that stillbirth still happens. It is the lack of any protocol on how to educate patients and providers about fetal movement, and what to do if pregnant women complain about a decrease or change in fetal movement. I think a lot of this stems from an innate discomfort that obstetric providers have in the care of these patients. That if women felt cared for and empowered to tell their stories, there would be more efforts at stillbirth education and prevention.

I often think of an experience that the founder of Star Legacy, Lindsey Wimmer, experienced when she lost her son, Garrett, 16 years ago. She told a story in the documentary, “Don’t talk about the baby.” She tells that on the first night of the induction, the nurse came in and told her that the attending wanted to turn off the oxytocin so “she could get her rest.” I heard this and immediately knew the attending’s true reason for turning off the oxytocin. Lindsey then said she knew it was because the attending did not want to wake up to deliver a dead baby. I wrote Lindsey that day and told her I completely agreed and apologized on behalf of my profession for that care. She wrote me back that she had waited 16 years to have a provider validate her feelings about this. I told her I think her doctor was fearful and uncomfortable with this birth and was avoiding it, but I believe with better education and training this can change. I want to deliver babies like Garrett during my shift, because it is giving this vital care that reminds me why I became a doctor in the first place.

Dr. Florescue is an ob.gyn. in private practice at Women Gynecology and Childbirth Associates in Rochester, N.Y. She delivers babies at Highland Hospital in Rochester. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her a obnews@mdedge.com.

References

1. “Stillbirths 2016: ending preventable stillbirths.” Series from The Lancet journals. Published: Jan. 20, 2016.

2. BMC Pregnancy Childbirth. 2012 Nov 27. doi: 10.1186/1471-2393-12-137.

One of hardest parts of being an obstetrician is taking care of patients who experience a stillbirth. I am very comfortable with the care of a grieving patient and I always have been, although I am not sure why. I have a model of care that I have evolved in my 16 years since medical school graduation. This model is not based on formal instruction because I received none, but on my natural instincts of what a grieving mom and her family need to hear and receive in the worst moments of their lives. All obstetrics providers grieve the loss of the baby, but often not with the patient but on our own. We may do this because we want to respect the patient’s privacy or because we are not sure of the words to say. I hope I can provide some guidance for those who struggle with what to do.

SDI Productions/E+

I delivered my first stillborn baby as a third-year medical student. My mentor, a chief resident, saw something in me and encouraged me to care for this mother. She had twins and one baby was still living, but the prognosis was poor since this was the surviving twin from a monochorionic diamniotic pregnancy. On the day of the mom’s induction, I just pulled up a chair and talked with her. We talked about her life, the loss of the first baby several weeks before, and her hope that her surviving son would be okay. She felt so bonded to me that she refused to push until I was there. Her delivery is still firm in my mind. I still remember 17 years later the room she delivered in.

My first loss (stillbirth) as a resident was my intern year – a beautiful baby named Jude, who was stillborn at 39 weeks. After delivering Jude, I asked the family about the funeral arrangements. Three days later, I attended his funeral. I looked all around for the mother’s attending doctors but none of them were there. I remember thinking then that it was a given that they would be there, but now I know that it is rare. I also learned a lot about the grief a stillborn baby brings while listening to Jude’s father’s eulogy. He talked about how Jude would never bake cookies with Aunt Jane, ride the slide with cousin Chris, or put on a yellow backpack and ride the bus on the first day of school. Because of this eulogy, I understood this unique kind of grief that these losses bring early in my training.

I delivered many losses in my residency. The attendings left soon after the birth and I stayed behind with the family. I sat and counseled the families, and I helped them make memories. I realized that to care for these patients, I would need to trust my instincts because there was no formal and little informal training on how to care for families who lost their babies.

Once I completed residency, I was really able to do my “thing.” At loss deliveries, I was able to model for residents my method of care. I showed them that families want and need attention, support, and guidance. I modeled for them how to deliver and greet the baby. That it is not necessary to leave the room right after the birth, and it is okay to grieve and help families meet their babies. I modeled commenting on the baby’s features, on who they looked like. I showed how laughing about how the baby has grandma’s nose is okay. I showed them that it is okay to ask to hold and get a picture taken with the baby. I showed them that these are the only moments these families will get with their babies, and it is our job to help them do this. The family will have many moments alone in the days and weeks to come. They need our support and guidance. It is a part of being an ob.gyn. to care for families after stillbirths, and we do not want our patients to feel abandoned during this time by those they entrust to care for them.

I also was able to create a model for aftercare. I call my families often after they go home. Sometimes I catch them in the anger stage of the grief process and I let them vent. I work through this with them, and I answer their hardest and sometimes accusatory questions regarding care leading up to the diagnosis. I am not saying this is easy for me or for them. I think fear of these tough conversations is a barrier to giving the emotional support that these families need. I work through this with them in an honest and open manner. I also call to check on the patients as much as possible, especially on anniversaries. I am not saying that all providers must follow this model. This is my passion and is natural for me, but data clearly show that the standard of emotional care we provide is not what patients need at this time. Thankfully, there is an amazing resource of grief counselors, social workers, online resources, and support groups for these families to help them get through the tragedy. These resources, however, are not the provider who spent this precious time with them and their beloved baby, and our emotional support is invaluable.

This past year has been very eventful for me. One of my patients delivered a new baby, after a prior loss, and asked if we could teach together. I had mentioned that everything I do with stillbirths is not based on my residency education, but on my experience and instinctual feeling of what families need. She knew from friends in bereavement circles that they felt that their care was different. We started teaching last summer and have done 10 training sessions to date; hopefully we will continue to teach new groups of nurses, residents, medical students, doulas, and physician assistant students each year.

This year also was eventful because I discovered the Star Legacy Foundation, a national not-for-profit organization with the goal of spreading awareness, education, and prevention regarding stillbirth. I attended their 2019 Summit in Minnesota. I thought I would meet many more doctors and midwives like myself, and I would learn even more about care for bereaved patients. However, that summer I learned preventing stillbirth may be possible from the then chief medical officer of Scotland, Catherine Calderwood, MB ChB. She talked about the preventive protocol she had created that had reduced the stillbirth rate by 23%. Because I was one of only five ob.gyn. nonspeaker attendees in a room of 400, I realized I had a real opportunity to try to bring some model for prevention to the United States. I brought the U.K. protocol to my practice and we have been doing it now for 9 months. (See “Decreased fetal movement: Time to educate patients and ourselves” at mdedge.com/pediatrics.)

I have had a year to think about why the U.S. stillbirth rate is higher than that of many high-income nations and why we have the lowest annual rate of reduction in the 2016 Lancet series among high resource nations.¹ I think it is due to lack of education and training for providers in stillbirth prevention and care, which has led to further marginalization and stigmatization of bereaved moms. This has pushed them further into the shadows and makes it taboo to share their stories. It is providers being fearful to even mention to patients that stillbirth still happens. It is the lack of any protocol on how to educate patients and providers about fetal movement, and what to do if pregnant women complain about a decrease or change in fetal movement. I think a lot of this stems from an innate discomfort that obstetric providers have in the care of these patients. That if women felt cared for and empowered to tell their stories, there would be more efforts at stillbirth education and prevention.

I often think of an experience that the founder of Star Legacy, Lindsey Wimmer, experienced when she lost her son, Garrett, 16 years ago. She told a story in the documentary, “Don’t talk about the baby.” She tells that on the first night of the induction, the nurse came in and told her that the attending wanted to turn off the oxytocin so “she could get her rest.” I heard this and immediately knew the attending’s true reason for turning off the oxytocin. Lindsey then said she knew it was because the attending did not want to wake up to deliver a dead baby. I wrote Lindsey that day and told her I completely agreed and apologized on behalf of my profession for that care. She wrote me back that she had waited 16 years to have a provider validate her feelings about this. I told her I think her doctor was fearful and uncomfortable with this birth and was avoiding it, but I believe with better education and training this can change. I want to deliver babies like Garrett during my shift, because it is giving this vital care that reminds me why I became a doctor in the first place.

Dr. Florescue is an ob.gyn. in private practice at Women Gynecology and Childbirth Associates in Rochester, N.Y. She delivers babies at Highland Hospital in Rochester. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her a obnews@mdedge.com.

References

1. “Stillbirths 2016: ending preventable stillbirths.” Series from The Lancet journals. Published: Jan. 20, 2016.

2. BMC Pregnancy Childbirth. 2012 Nov 27. doi: 10.1186/1471-2393-12-137.

One of hardest parts of being an obstetrician is taking care of patients who experience a stillbirth. I am very comfortable with the care of a grieving patient and I always have been, although I am not sure why. I have a model of care that I have evolved in my 16 years since medical school graduation. This model is not based on formal instruction because I received none, but on my natural instincts of what a grieving mom and her family need to hear and receive in the worst moments of their lives. All obstetrics providers grieve the loss of the baby, but often not with the patient but on our own. We may do this because we want to respect the patient’s privacy or because we are not sure of the words to say. I hope I can provide some guidance for those who struggle with what to do.

SDI Productions/E+

I delivered my first stillborn baby as a third-year medical student. My mentor, a chief resident, saw something in me and encouraged me to care for this mother. She had twins and one baby was still living, but the prognosis was poor since this was the surviving twin from a monochorionic diamniotic pregnancy. On the day of the mom’s induction, I just pulled up a chair and talked with her. We talked about her life, the loss of the first baby several weeks before, and her hope that her surviving son would be okay. She felt so bonded to me that she refused to push until I was there. Her delivery is still firm in my mind. I still remember 17 years later the room she delivered in.

My first loss (stillbirth) as a resident was my intern year – a beautiful baby named Jude, who was stillborn at 39 weeks. After delivering Jude, I asked the family about the funeral arrangements. Three days later, I attended his funeral. I looked all around for the mother’s attending doctors but none of them were there. I remember thinking then that it was a given that they would be there, but now I know that it is rare. I also learned a lot about the grief a stillborn baby brings while listening to Jude’s father’s eulogy. He talked about how Jude would never bake cookies with Aunt Jane, ride the slide with cousin Chris, or put on a yellow backpack and ride the bus on the first day of school. Because of this eulogy, I understood this unique kind of grief that these losses bring early in my training.

I delivered many losses in my residency. The attendings left soon after the birth and I stayed behind with the family. I sat and counseled the families, and I helped them make memories. I realized that to care for these patients, I would need to trust my instincts because there was no formal and little informal training on how to care for families who lost their babies.

Once I completed residency, I was really able to do my “thing.” At loss deliveries, I was able to model for residents my method of care. I showed them that families want and need attention, support, and guidance. I modeled for them how to deliver and greet the baby. That it is not necessary to leave the room right after the birth, and it is okay to grieve and help families meet their babies. I modeled commenting on the baby’s features, on who they looked like. I showed how laughing about how the baby has grandma’s nose is okay. I showed them that it is okay to ask to hold and get a picture taken with the baby. I showed them that these are the only moments these families will get with their babies, and it is our job to help them do this. The family will have many moments alone in the days and weeks to come. They need our support and guidance. It is a part of being an ob.gyn. to care for families after stillbirths, and we do not want our patients to feel abandoned during this time by those they entrust to care for them.

I also was able to create a model for aftercare. I call my families often after they go home. Sometimes I catch them in the anger stage of the grief process and I let them vent. I work through this with them, and I answer their hardest and sometimes accusatory questions regarding care leading up to the diagnosis. I am not saying this is easy for me or for them. I think fear of these tough conversations is a barrier to giving the emotional support that these families need. I work through this with them in an honest and open manner. I also call to check on the patients as much as possible, especially on anniversaries. I am not saying that all providers must follow this model. This is my passion and is natural for me, but data clearly show that the standard of emotional care we provide is not what patients need at this time. Thankfully, there is an amazing resource of grief counselors, social workers, online resources, and support groups for these families to help them get through the tragedy. These resources, however, are not the provider who spent this precious time with them and their beloved baby, and our emotional support is invaluable.

This past year has been very eventful for me. One of my patients delivered a new baby, after a prior loss, and asked if we could teach together. I had mentioned that everything I do with stillbirths is not based on my residency education, but on my experience and instinctual feeling of what families need. She knew from friends in bereavement circles that they felt that their care was different. We started teaching last summer and have done 10 training sessions to date; hopefully we will continue to teach new groups of nurses, residents, medical students, doulas, and physician assistant students each year.

This year also was eventful because I discovered the Star Legacy Foundation, a national not-for-profit organization with the goal of spreading awareness, education, and prevention regarding stillbirth. I attended their 2019 Summit in Minnesota. I thought I would meet many more doctors and midwives like myself, and I would learn even more about care for bereaved patients. However, that summer I learned preventing stillbirth may be possible from the then chief medical officer of Scotland, Catherine Calderwood, MB ChB. She talked about the preventive protocol she had created that had reduced the stillbirth rate by 23%. Because I was one of only five ob.gyn. nonspeaker attendees in a room of 400, I realized I had a real opportunity to try to bring some model for prevention to the United States. I brought the U.K. protocol to my practice and we have been doing it now for 9 months. (See “Decreased fetal movement: Time to educate patients and ourselves” at mdedge.com/pediatrics.)

I have had a year to think about why the U.S. stillbirth rate is higher than that of many high-income nations and why we have the lowest annual rate of reduction in the 2016 Lancet series among high resource nations.¹ I think it is due to lack of education and training for providers in stillbirth prevention and care, which has led to further marginalization and stigmatization of bereaved moms. This has pushed them further into the shadows and makes it taboo to share their stories. It is providers being fearful to even mention to patients that stillbirth still happens. It is the lack of any protocol on how to educate patients and providers about fetal movement, and what to do if pregnant women complain about a decrease or change in fetal movement. I think a lot of this stems from an innate discomfort that obstetric providers have in the care of these patients. That if women felt cared for and empowered to tell their stories, there would be more efforts at stillbirth education and prevention.

I often think of an experience that the founder of Star Legacy, Lindsey Wimmer, experienced when she lost her son, Garrett, 16 years ago. She told a story in the documentary, “Don’t talk about the baby.” She tells that on the first night of the induction, the nurse came in and told her that the attending wanted to turn off the oxytocin so “she could get her rest.” I heard this and immediately knew the attending’s true reason for turning off the oxytocin. Lindsey then said she knew it was because the attending did not want to wake up to deliver a dead baby. I wrote Lindsey that day and told her I completely agreed and apologized on behalf of my profession for that care. She wrote me back that she had waited 16 years to have a provider validate her feelings about this. I told her I think her doctor was fearful and uncomfortable with this birth and was avoiding it, but I believe with better education and training this can change. I want to deliver babies like Garrett during my shift, because it is giving this vital care that reminds me why I became a doctor in the first place.

Dr. Florescue is an ob.gyn. in private practice at Women Gynecology and Childbirth Associates in Rochester, N.Y. She delivers babies at Highland Hospital in Rochester. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her a obnews@mdedge.com.

References

1. “Stillbirths 2016: ending preventable stillbirths.” Series from The Lancet journals. Published: Jan. 20, 2016.

2. BMC Pregnancy Childbirth. 2012 Nov 27. doi: 10.1186/1471-2393-12-137.