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The end of the telemedicine era?
I started taking care of Jim, a 68-year-old man with metastatic renal cell carcinoma back in the fall of 2018. Jim lived far from our clinic in the rural western Sierra Mountains and had a hard time getting to Santa Monica, but needed ongoing pain and symptom management, as well as follow-up visits with oncology and discussions with our teams about preparing for the end of life.
Luckily for Jim, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services had relaxed the rules around telehealth because of the public health emergency, and we were easily able to provide telemedicine visits throughout the pandemic ensuring that Jim retained access to the care team that had managed his cancer for several years at that point. This would not have been possible without the use of telemedicine – at least not without great effort and expense by Jim to make frequent trips to our Santa Monica clinic.
So, you can imagine my apprehension when I received an email the other day from our billing department, informing billing providers like myself that “telehealth visits are still covered through the end of the year.” While this initially seemed like reassuring news, it immediately begged the question – what happens at the end of the year? What will care look like for patients like Jim who live at a significant distance from their providers?
The end of the COVID-19 public health emergency on May 11 has prompted states to reevaluate the future of telehealth for Medicaid and Medicare recipients. Most states plan to make some telehealth services permanent, particularly in rural areas. While other telehealth services have been extended through Dec. 31, 2024, under the Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2023.
But still, We can now see very ill patients in their own homes without imposing an undue burden on them to come in for yet another office visit. Prior to the public health emergency, our embedded palliative care program would see patients only when they were in the oncology clinic so as to not burden them with having to travel to yet another clinic. This made our palliative providers less efficient since patients were being seen by multiple providers in the same space, which led to some time spent waiting around. It also frequently tied up our clinic exam rooms for long periods of time, delaying care for patients sitting in the waiting room.
Telehealth changed that virtually overnight. With the widespread availability of smartphones and tablets, patients could stay at home and speak more comfortably in their own surroundings – especially about the difficult topics we tend to dig into in palliative care – such as fears, suffering, grief, loss, legacy, regret, trauma, gratitude, dying – without the impersonal, aseptic environment of a clinic. We could visit with their family/caregivers, kids, and their pets. We could tour their living space and see how they were managing from a functional standpoint. We could get to know aspects of our patients’ lives that we’d never have seen in the clinic that could help us understand their goals and values better and help care for them more fully.
The benefit to the institution was also measurable. We could see our patients faster – the time from referral to consult dropped dramatically because patients could be scheduled for next-day virtual visits instead of having to wait for them to come back to an oncology visit. We could do quick symptom-focused visits that prior to telehealth would have been conducted by phone without the ability to perform at the very least an observational physical exam of the patient, which is important when prescribing medications to medically frail populations.
If telemedicine goes, how will it affect outpatient palliative care?
If that goes away, I do not know what will happen to outpatient palliative care. I can tell you we will be much less efficient in terms of when we see patients. There will probably be a higher clinic burden to patients, as well as higher financial toxicity to patients (Parking in the structure attached to my office building is $22 per day). And, what about the uncaptured costs associated with transportation for those whose illness prevents them from driving themselves? This can range from Uber costs to the time cost for a patient’s family member to take off work and arrange for childcare in order to drive the patient to a clinic for a visit.
In February, I received emails from the Drug Enforcement Agency suggesting that they, too, may roll back providers’ ability to prescribe controlled substances to patients who are mainly receiving telehealth services. While I understand and fully support the need to curb inappropriate overprescribing of controlled medications, I am concerned about the unintended consequences to cancer patients who live at a remote distance from their oncologists and palliative care providers. I remain hopeful that DEA will consider a carveout exception for those patients who have cancer, are receiving palliative care services, or are deemed to be at the end of life, much like the chronic opioid guidelines developed by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have done.
Telemedicine in essential care
Back to Jim. Using telehealth and electronic prescribing, our oncology and palliative care programs were able to keep Jim comfortable and at home through the end of his life. He did not have to travel 3 hours each way to get care. He did not have to spend money on parking and gas, and his daughter did not have to take days off work and arrange for a babysitter in order to drive him to our clinic. We partnered with a local pharmacy that was willing to special order medications for Jim when his pain became worse and he required a long-acting opioid. We partnered with a local home health company that kept a close eye on Jim and let us know when he seemed to be declining further, prompting discussions about transitioning to hospice.
I’m proud of the fact that our group helped Jim stay in comfortable surroundings and out of the clinic and hospital over the last 6 months of his life, but that would never have happened without the safe and thoughtful use of telehealth by our team.
Ironically, because of a public health emergency, we were able to provide efficient and high-quality palliative care at the right time, to the right person, in the right place, satisfying CMS goals to provide better care for patients and whole populations at lower costs.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I started taking care of Jim, a 68-year-old man with metastatic renal cell carcinoma back in the fall of 2018. Jim lived far from our clinic in the rural western Sierra Mountains and had a hard time getting to Santa Monica, but needed ongoing pain and symptom management, as well as follow-up visits with oncology and discussions with our teams about preparing for the end of life.
Luckily for Jim, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services had relaxed the rules around telehealth because of the public health emergency, and we were easily able to provide telemedicine visits throughout the pandemic ensuring that Jim retained access to the care team that had managed his cancer for several years at that point. This would not have been possible without the use of telemedicine – at least not without great effort and expense by Jim to make frequent trips to our Santa Monica clinic.
So, you can imagine my apprehension when I received an email the other day from our billing department, informing billing providers like myself that “telehealth visits are still covered through the end of the year.” While this initially seemed like reassuring news, it immediately begged the question – what happens at the end of the year? What will care look like for patients like Jim who live at a significant distance from their providers?
The end of the COVID-19 public health emergency on May 11 has prompted states to reevaluate the future of telehealth for Medicaid and Medicare recipients. Most states plan to make some telehealth services permanent, particularly in rural areas. While other telehealth services have been extended through Dec. 31, 2024, under the Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2023.
But still, We can now see very ill patients in their own homes without imposing an undue burden on them to come in for yet another office visit. Prior to the public health emergency, our embedded palliative care program would see patients only when they were in the oncology clinic so as to not burden them with having to travel to yet another clinic. This made our palliative providers less efficient since patients were being seen by multiple providers in the same space, which led to some time spent waiting around. It also frequently tied up our clinic exam rooms for long periods of time, delaying care for patients sitting in the waiting room.
Telehealth changed that virtually overnight. With the widespread availability of smartphones and tablets, patients could stay at home and speak more comfortably in their own surroundings – especially about the difficult topics we tend to dig into in palliative care – such as fears, suffering, grief, loss, legacy, regret, trauma, gratitude, dying – without the impersonal, aseptic environment of a clinic. We could visit with their family/caregivers, kids, and their pets. We could tour their living space and see how they were managing from a functional standpoint. We could get to know aspects of our patients’ lives that we’d never have seen in the clinic that could help us understand their goals and values better and help care for them more fully.
The benefit to the institution was also measurable. We could see our patients faster – the time from referral to consult dropped dramatically because patients could be scheduled for next-day virtual visits instead of having to wait for them to come back to an oncology visit. We could do quick symptom-focused visits that prior to telehealth would have been conducted by phone without the ability to perform at the very least an observational physical exam of the patient, which is important when prescribing medications to medically frail populations.
If telemedicine goes, how will it affect outpatient palliative care?
If that goes away, I do not know what will happen to outpatient palliative care. I can tell you we will be much less efficient in terms of when we see patients. There will probably be a higher clinic burden to patients, as well as higher financial toxicity to patients (Parking in the structure attached to my office building is $22 per day). And, what about the uncaptured costs associated with transportation for those whose illness prevents them from driving themselves? This can range from Uber costs to the time cost for a patient’s family member to take off work and arrange for childcare in order to drive the patient to a clinic for a visit.
In February, I received emails from the Drug Enforcement Agency suggesting that they, too, may roll back providers’ ability to prescribe controlled substances to patients who are mainly receiving telehealth services. While I understand and fully support the need to curb inappropriate overprescribing of controlled medications, I am concerned about the unintended consequences to cancer patients who live at a remote distance from their oncologists and palliative care providers. I remain hopeful that DEA will consider a carveout exception for those patients who have cancer, are receiving palliative care services, or are deemed to be at the end of life, much like the chronic opioid guidelines developed by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have done.
Telemedicine in essential care
Back to Jim. Using telehealth and electronic prescribing, our oncology and palliative care programs were able to keep Jim comfortable and at home through the end of his life. He did not have to travel 3 hours each way to get care. He did not have to spend money on parking and gas, and his daughter did not have to take days off work and arrange for a babysitter in order to drive him to our clinic. We partnered with a local pharmacy that was willing to special order medications for Jim when his pain became worse and he required a long-acting opioid. We partnered with a local home health company that kept a close eye on Jim and let us know when he seemed to be declining further, prompting discussions about transitioning to hospice.
I’m proud of the fact that our group helped Jim stay in comfortable surroundings and out of the clinic and hospital over the last 6 months of his life, but that would never have happened without the safe and thoughtful use of telehealth by our team.
Ironically, because of a public health emergency, we were able to provide efficient and high-quality palliative care at the right time, to the right person, in the right place, satisfying CMS goals to provide better care for patients and whole populations at lower costs.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I started taking care of Jim, a 68-year-old man with metastatic renal cell carcinoma back in the fall of 2018. Jim lived far from our clinic in the rural western Sierra Mountains and had a hard time getting to Santa Monica, but needed ongoing pain and symptom management, as well as follow-up visits with oncology and discussions with our teams about preparing for the end of life.
Luckily for Jim, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services had relaxed the rules around telehealth because of the public health emergency, and we were easily able to provide telemedicine visits throughout the pandemic ensuring that Jim retained access to the care team that had managed his cancer for several years at that point. This would not have been possible without the use of telemedicine – at least not without great effort and expense by Jim to make frequent trips to our Santa Monica clinic.
So, you can imagine my apprehension when I received an email the other day from our billing department, informing billing providers like myself that “telehealth visits are still covered through the end of the year.” While this initially seemed like reassuring news, it immediately begged the question – what happens at the end of the year? What will care look like for patients like Jim who live at a significant distance from their providers?
The end of the COVID-19 public health emergency on May 11 has prompted states to reevaluate the future of telehealth for Medicaid and Medicare recipients. Most states plan to make some telehealth services permanent, particularly in rural areas. While other telehealth services have been extended through Dec. 31, 2024, under the Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2023.
But still, We can now see very ill patients in their own homes without imposing an undue burden on them to come in for yet another office visit. Prior to the public health emergency, our embedded palliative care program would see patients only when they were in the oncology clinic so as to not burden them with having to travel to yet another clinic. This made our palliative providers less efficient since patients were being seen by multiple providers in the same space, which led to some time spent waiting around. It also frequently tied up our clinic exam rooms for long periods of time, delaying care for patients sitting in the waiting room.
Telehealth changed that virtually overnight. With the widespread availability of smartphones and tablets, patients could stay at home and speak more comfortably in their own surroundings – especially about the difficult topics we tend to dig into in palliative care – such as fears, suffering, grief, loss, legacy, regret, trauma, gratitude, dying – without the impersonal, aseptic environment of a clinic. We could visit with their family/caregivers, kids, and their pets. We could tour their living space and see how they were managing from a functional standpoint. We could get to know aspects of our patients’ lives that we’d never have seen in the clinic that could help us understand their goals and values better and help care for them more fully.
The benefit to the institution was also measurable. We could see our patients faster – the time from referral to consult dropped dramatically because patients could be scheduled for next-day virtual visits instead of having to wait for them to come back to an oncology visit. We could do quick symptom-focused visits that prior to telehealth would have been conducted by phone without the ability to perform at the very least an observational physical exam of the patient, which is important when prescribing medications to medically frail populations.
If telemedicine goes, how will it affect outpatient palliative care?
If that goes away, I do not know what will happen to outpatient palliative care. I can tell you we will be much less efficient in terms of when we see patients. There will probably be a higher clinic burden to patients, as well as higher financial toxicity to patients (Parking in the structure attached to my office building is $22 per day). And, what about the uncaptured costs associated with transportation for those whose illness prevents them from driving themselves? This can range from Uber costs to the time cost for a patient’s family member to take off work and arrange for childcare in order to drive the patient to a clinic for a visit.
In February, I received emails from the Drug Enforcement Agency suggesting that they, too, may roll back providers’ ability to prescribe controlled substances to patients who are mainly receiving telehealth services. While I understand and fully support the need to curb inappropriate overprescribing of controlled medications, I am concerned about the unintended consequences to cancer patients who live at a remote distance from their oncologists and palliative care providers. I remain hopeful that DEA will consider a carveout exception for those patients who have cancer, are receiving palliative care services, or are deemed to be at the end of life, much like the chronic opioid guidelines developed by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have done.
Telemedicine in essential care
Back to Jim. Using telehealth and electronic prescribing, our oncology and palliative care programs were able to keep Jim comfortable and at home through the end of his life. He did not have to travel 3 hours each way to get care. He did not have to spend money on parking and gas, and his daughter did not have to take days off work and arrange for a babysitter in order to drive him to our clinic. We partnered with a local pharmacy that was willing to special order medications for Jim when his pain became worse and he required a long-acting opioid. We partnered with a local home health company that kept a close eye on Jim and let us know when he seemed to be declining further, prompting discussions about transitioning to hospice.
I’m proud of the fact that our group helped Jim stay in comfortable surroundings and out of the clinic and hospital over the last 6 months of his life, but that would never have happened without the safe and thoughtful use of telehealth by our team.
Ironically, because of a public health emergency, we were able to provide efficient and high-quality palliative care at the right time, to the right person, in the right place, satisfying CMS goals to provide better care for patients and whole populations at lower costs.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
Oncologists may be too quick to refer patients to palliative care
I recently met Jane, a 53-year-old woman with metastatic breast cancer. She was referred to me by the breast oncology team, which routinely refers all metastatic patients to our palliative care clinic.
Clocking in at under 20 minutes, my consultation with Jane might have been one of my shortest on record. Not only had the breast oncology team already addressed Jane’s symptoms, which mainly consisted of hot flashes and joint pain attributable to treatment with an aromatase inhibitor, but they had already started planning ahead for the future of her illness. Jane had completed an advance directive and had a realistic and hopeful perspective on how her illness would progress. She understood the goal of her treatment was to “keep the cancer asleep,” as she put it, and she was very clear about her own goals: to live long enough to see her granddaughter graduate from high school in 2 years and to take a long-awaited trip to Australia later in 2023.
There wasn’t much for me to do. In fact, I daresay that Jane really did not need to see a palliative care specialist because the primary palliative care she was receiving from the breast oncology team was superb. Jane was receiving excellent symptom management from a nurse practitioner and oncologist, plus a social worker provided her with coping strategies. She was already having conversations with her primary medical team and her family about what to expect in the future and how to plan ahead for all possible outcomes.
When should a patient be referred to palliative care?
Integrating palliative care into routine oncologic care need not always require the time and skill of a palliative care team for every patient. Oncology providers can provide basic palliative care services without consulting a palliative care specialist.
For example, if a primary care doctor tried to refer every patient with hypertension to cardiology, the cardiologist would probably say that primary care should be able to handle basic hypertension management. In my experience from working in an oncology clinic for the past 9 years, I’ve found that oncology providers don’t need to refer every advanced cancer patient to our palliative care program. Most oncologists have good communication skills and are more than capable of managing symptoms for patients.
But don’t get me wrong.
Palliative care for all?
In 2010, Jennifer S. Temel MD, published a landmark study in the New England Journal of Medicine that demonstrated significant improvements in quality of life and mood in patients with metastatic lung cancer who received concurrent palliative care. After the study was published many voices inside oncology and palliative care began to advocate for a “palliative care for all” approach to patients with metastatic disease. But this is often interpreted as “specialty palliative care for all,” rather than its original intended meaning that all patients with metastatic disease receive the essential elements of palliative care (biopsychosocial symptom support and conversations about goals of care) either through their primary oncology teams or, if needed, specialty palliative care teams.
The fact is that most specialty palliative care clinics do not have the manpower to meet the needs of all patients with advanced cancers, much less all patients living with serious illness. A main goal of integrating palliative care into routine outpatient health care has always been (and in my opinion, should continue to be) to enhance the primary palliative care skills of specialists, such as oncologists and cardiologists, who care for some of our sickest patients.
This could take many forms. For one, it can be helpful to screen patients for palliative care needs. The American College of Surgeons Commission on Cancer mandates distress screening for all patients as a condition of accreditation. Distress screening using a validated tool such as the National Comprehensive Cancer Network Distress Thermometer can differentiate patients who have minimal distress and may not need much additional support beyond what is provided by their oncology team from those whose distress feels unmanageable and overwhelming.
In terms of primary palliative care symptom management, most oncology teams I work with are comfortable prescribing basic medications for pain, nausea, constipation, and anxiety. They’re also comfortable referring oncology patients for nutrition needs while undergoing chemotherapy as well as to social work and spiritual care for emotional support and counseling.
Oncology teams should continually work on communications skills. They should use “Ask, Tell, Ask” to elicit prognostic awareness, convey critical information, and assess for recall and understanding at pivotal points in the cancer journey, such as when the disease progresses or the patient’s clinical condition changes. They should practice a normalizing script they can use to introduce advance care planning to their patients in the first few visits. When I meet with a patient for the first time, I usually begin by asking if they have prepared an advanced directive. If not, I ask if they’ve thought about who will make medical decisions for them should the need arise. If the patient has documented in writing their preference for care in an emergency situation, I ask for a copy for their chart.
When should patients be referred to a specialty palliative care program?
I tell our oncology teams to involve me after they have tried to intervene, but unsuccessfully because of the patient having intractable symptoms, such as pain, or the disease is not responding to treatments. Or, because there are significant communication or health literacy barriers. Or, because there are challenging family dynamics that are impeding progress in establishing goals of care.
A physician should refer to specialty palliative care when there are multiple comorbid conditions that impact a patient’s prognosis and ability to tolerate treatments. These patients will need detailed symptom management and nuanced conversations about the delicate balance of maintaining quality of life and trying to address their malignancy while also avoiding treatments that may do more harm than good.
At the end of the day, all patients with serious illnesses deserve a palliative care approach to their care from all of their clinicians, not just from the palliative care team. By continuously honing and implementing primary palliative care skills, oncology teams can feel empowered to meet the needs of their patients themselves, strengthening their bond with their patients making truly patient-centered care much more likely.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I recently met Jane, a 53-year-old woman with metastatic breast cancer. She was referred to me by the breast oncology team, which routinely refers all metastatic patients to our palliative care clinic.
Clocking in at under 20 minutes, my consultation with Jane might have been one of my shortest on record. Not only had the breast oncology team already addressed Jane’s symptoms, which mainly consisted of hot flashes and joint pain attributable to treatment with an aromatase inhibitor, but they had already started planning ahead for the future of her illness. Jane had completed an advance directive and had a realistic and hopeful perspective on how her illness would progress. She understood the goal of her treatment was to “keep the cancer asleep,” as she put it, and she was very clear about her own goals: to live long enough to see her granddaughter graduate from high school in 2 years and to take a long-awaited trip to Australia later in 2023.
There wasn’t much for me to do. In fact, I daresay that Jane really did not need to see a palliative care specialist because the primary palliative care she was receiving from the breast oncology team was superb. Jane was receiving excellent symptom management from a nurse practitioner and oncologist, plus a social worker provided her with coping strategies. She was already having conversations with her primary medical team and her family about what to expect in the future and how to plan ahead for all possible outcomes.
When should a patient be referred to palliative care?
Integrating palliative care into routine oncologic care need not always require the time and skill of a palliative care team for every patient. Oncology providers can provide basic palliative care services without consulting a palliative care specialist.
For example, if a primary care doctor tried to refer every patient with hypertension to cardiology, the cardiologist would probably say that primary care should be able to handle basic hypertension management. In my experience from working in an oncology clinic for the past 9 years, I’ve found that oncology providers don’t need to refer every advanced cancer patient to our palliative care program. Most oncologists have good communication skills and are more than capable of managing symptoms for patients.
But don’t get me wrong.
Palliative care for all?
In 2010, Jennifer S. Temel MD, published a landmark study in the New England Journal of Medicine that demonstrated significant improvements in quality of life and mood in patients with metastatic lung cancer who received concurrent palliative care. After the study was published many voices inside oncology and palliative care began to advocate for a “palliative care for all” approach to patients with metastatic disease. But this is often interpreted as “specialty palliative care for all,” rather than its original intended meaning that all patients with metastatic disease receive the essential elements of palliative care (biopsychosocial symptom support and conversations about goals of care) either through their primary oncology teams or, if needed, specialty palliative care teams.
The fact is that most specialty palliative care clinics do not have the manpower to meet the needs of all patients with advanced cancers, much less all patients living with serious illness. A main goal of integrating palliative care into routine outpatient health care has always been (and in my opinion, should continue to be) to enhance the primary palliative care skills of specialists, such as oncologists and cardiologists, who care for some of our sickest patients.
This could take many forms. For one, it can be helpful to screen patients for palliative care needs. The American College of Surgeons Commission on Cancer mandates distress screening for all patients as a condition of accreditation. Distress screening using a validated tool such as the National Comprehensive Cancer Network Distress Thermometer can differentiate patients who have minimal distress and may not need much additional support beyond what is provided by their oncology team from those whose distress feels unmanageable and overwhelming.
In terms of primary palliative care symptom management, most oncology teams I work with are comfortable prescribing basic medications for pain, nausea, constipation, and anxiety. They’re also comfortable referring oncology patients for nutrition needs while undergoing chemotherapy as well as to social work and spiritual care for emotional support and counseling.
Oncology teams should continually work on communications skills. They should use “Ask, Tell, Ask” to elicit prognostic awareness, convey critical information, and assess for recall and understanding at pivotal points in the cancer journey, such as when the disease progresses or the patient’s clinical condition changes. They should practice a normalizing script they can use to introduce advance care planning to their patients in the first few visits. When I meet with a patient for the first time, I usually begin by asking if they have prepared an advanced directive. If not, I ask if they’ve thought about who will make medical decisions for them should the need arise. If the patient has documented in writing their preference for care in an emergency situation, I ask for a copy for their chart.
When should patients be referred to a specialty palliative care program?
I tell our oncology teams to involve me after they have tried to intervene, but unsuccessfully because of the patient having intractable symptoms, such as pain, or the disease is not responding to treatments. Or, because there are significant communication or health literacy barriers. Or, because there are challenging family dynamics that are impeding progress in establishing goals of care.
A physician should refer to specialty palliative care when there are multiple comorbid conditions that impact a patient’s prognosis and ability to tolerate treatments. These patients will need detailed symptom management and nuanced conversations about the delicate balance of maintaining quality of life and trying to address their malignancy while also avoiding treatments that may do more harm than good.
At the end of the day, all patients with serious illnesses deserve a palliative care approach to their care from all of their clinicians, not just from the palliative care team. By continuously honing and implementing primary palliative care skills, oncology teams can feel empowered to meet the needs of their patients themselves, strengthening their bond with their patients making truly patient-centered care much more likely.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I recently met Jane, a 53-year-old woman with metastatic breast cancer. She was referred to me by the breast oncology team, which routinely refers all metastatic patients to our palliative care clinic.
Clocking in at under 20 minutes, my consultation with Jane might have been one of my shortest on record. Not only had the breast oncology team already addressed Jane’s symptoms, which mainly consisted of hot flashes and joint pain attributable to treatment with an aromatase inhibitor, but they had already started planning ahead for the future of her illness. Jane had completed an advance directive and had a realistic and hopeful perspective on how her illness would progress. She understood the goal of her treatment was to “keep the cancer asleep,” as she put it, and she was very clear about her own goals: to live long enough to see her granddaughter graduate from high school in 2 years and to take a long-awaited trip to Australia later in 2023.
There wasn’t much for me to do. In fact, I daresay that Jane really did not need to see a palliative care specialist because the primary palliative care she was receiving from the breast oncology team was superb. Jane was receiving excellent symptom management from a nurse practitioner and oncologist, plus a social worker provided her with coping strategies. She was already having conversations with her primary medical team and her family about what to expect in the future and how to plan ahead for all possible outcomes.
When should a patient be referred to palliative care?
Integrating palliative care into routine oncologic care need not always require the time and skill of a palliative care team for every patient. Oncology providers can provide basic palliative care services without consulting a palliative care specialist.
For example, if a primary care doctor tried to refer every patient with hypertension to cardiology, the cardiologist would probably say that primary care should be able to handle basic hypertension management. In my experience from working in an oncology clinic for the past 9 years, I’ve found that oncology providers don’t need to refer every advanced cancer patient to our palliative care program. Most oncologists have good communication skills and are more than capable of managing symptoms for patients.
But don’t get me wrong.
Palliative care for all?
In 2010, Jennifer S. Temel MD, published a landmark study in the New England Journal of Medicine that demonstrated significant improvements in quality of life and mood in patients with metastatic lung cancer who received concurrent palliative care. After the study was published many voices inside oncology and palliative care began to advocate for a “palliative care for all” approach to patients with metastatic disease. But this is often interpreted as “specialty palliative care for all,” rather than its original intended meaning that all patients with metastatic disease receive the essential elements of palliative care (biopsychosocial symptom support and conversations about goals of care) either through their primary oncology teams or, if needed, specialty palliative care teams.
The fact is that most specialty palliative care clinics do not have the manpower to meet the needs of all patients with advanced cancers, much less all patients living with serious illness. A main goal of integrating palliative care into routine outpatient health care has always been (and in my opinion, should continue to be) to enhance the primary palliative care skills of specialists, such as oncologists and cardiologists, who care for some of our sickest patients.
This could take many forms. For one, it can be helpful to screen patients for palliative care needs. The American College of Surgeons Commission on Cancer mandates distress screening for all patients as a condition of accreditation. Distress screening using a validated tool such as the National Comprehensive Cancer Network Distress Thermometer can differentiate patients who have minimal distress and may not need much additional support beyond what is provided by their oncology team from those whose distress feels unmanageable and overwhelming.
In terms of primary palliative care symptom management, most oncology teams I work with are comfortable prescribing basic medications for pain, nausea, constipation, and anxiety. They’re also comfortable referring oncology patients for nutrition needs while undergoing chemotherapy as well as to social work and spiritual care for emotional support and counseling.
Oncology teams should continually work on communications skills. They should use “Ask, Tell, Ask” to elicit prognostic awareness, convey critical information, and assess for recall and understanding at pivotal points in the cancer journey, such as when the disease progresses or the patient’s clinical condition changes. They should practice a normalizing script they can use to introduce advance care planning to their patients in the first few visits. When I meet with a patient for the first time, I usually begin by asking if they have prepared an advanced directive. If not, I ask if they’ve thought about who will make medical decisions for them should the need arise. If the patient has documented in writing their preference for care in an emergency situation, I ask for a copy for their chart.
When should patients be referred to a specialty palliative care program?
I tell our oncology teams to involve me after they have tried to intervene, but unsuccessfully because of the patient having intractable symptoms, such as pain, or the disease is not responding to treatments. Or, because there are significant communication or health literacy barriers. Or, because there are challenging family dynamics that are impeding progress in establishing goals of care.
A physician should refer to specialty palliative care when there are multiple comorbid conditions that impact a patient’s prognosis and ability to tolerate treatments. These patients will need detailed symptom management and nuanced conversations about the delicate balance of maintaining quality of life and trying to address their malignancy while also avoiding treatments that may do more harm than good.
At the end of the day, all patients with serious illnesses deserve a palliative care approach to their care from all of their clinicians, not just from the palliative care team. By continuously honing and implementing primary palliative care skills, oncology teams can feel empowered to meet the needs of their patients themselves, strengthening their bond with their patients making truly patient-centered care much more likely.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
Cancer as a full contact sport
John worked as a handyman and lived on a small sailboat in a marina. When he was diagnosed with metastatic kidney cancer at age 48, he quickly fell through the cracks. He failed to show to appointments and took oral anticancer treatments, but just sporadically. He had Medicaid, so insurance wasn’t the issue. It was everything else.
John was behind on his slip fees; he hadn’t been able to work for some time because of his progressive weakness and pain. He was chronically in danger of getting kicked out of his makeshift home aboard the boat. He had no reliable transportation to the clinic and so he didn’t come to appointments regularly. The specialty pharmacy refused to deliver his expensive oral chemotherapy to his address at the marina. He went days without eating full meals because he was too weak to cook for himself. Plus, he was estranged from his family who were unaware of his illness. His oncologist was overwhelmed trying to take care of him. He had a reasonable chance of achieving disease control on first-line oral therapy, but his problems seemed to hinder these chances at every turn. She was distraught – what could she do?
Enter the team approach. John’s oncologist reached out to our palliative care program for help. We recognized that this was a job too big for us alone so we connected John with the Extensivist Medicine program at UCLA Health, a high-intensity primary care program led by a physician specializing in primary care for high-risk individuals. The program provides wraparound outpatient services for chronically and seriously ill patients, like John, who are at risk for falling through the cracks. John went from receiving very little support to now having an entire team of caring professionals focused on helping him achieve his best possible outcome despite the seriousness of his disease.
He now had the support of a high-functioning team with clearly defined roles. Social work connected him with housing, food, and transportation resources. A nurse called him every day to check in and make sure he was taking medications and reminded him about his upcoming appointments. Case management helped him get needed equipment, such as grab bars and a walker. As his palliative care nurse practitioner, I counseled him on understanding his prognosis and planning ahead for medical emergencies. Our psycho-oncology clinicians helped John reconcile with his family, who were more than willing to take him in once they realized how ill he was. Once these social factors were addressed, John could more easily stay current with his oral chemotherapy, giving him the best chance possible to achieve a robust treatment response that could buy him more time.
And, John did get that time – he got 6 months of improved quality of life, during which he reconnected with his family, including his children, and rebuilt these important relationships. Eventually treatment failed him. His disease, already widely metastatic, became more active and painful. He accepted hospice care at his sister’s house and we transitioned him from our team to the hospice team. He died peacefully surrounded by family.
Interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to treat ‘total pain’
None of this would have been possible without the work of high-functioning teams. It is a commonly held belief that interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to the care of patients and families living with serious illness. But why? How did this idea come about? And what evidence is there to support teamwork?
Dame Cicely Saunders, who founded the modern hospice movement in mid-20th century England, embodied the interdisciplinary team by working first as a nurse, then a social worker, and finally as a physician. She wrote about patients’ “total pain,” the crisis of physical, spiritual, social, and emotional distress that many people have at the end of life. She understood that no single health care discipline was adequate to the task of addressing each of these domains equally well. Thus, hospice became synonymous with care provided by a quartet of specialists – physicians, nurses, social workers, and chaplains. Nowadays, there are other specialists that are added to the mix – home health aides, pharmacists, physical and occupational therapists, music and pet therapists, and so on.
But in medicine, like all areas of science, convention and tradition only go so far. What evidence is there to support the work of an interdisciplinary team in managing the distress of patients and families living with advanced illnesses? It turns out that there is good evidence to support the use of high-functioning interdisciplinary teams in the care of the seriously ill. Palliative care is associated with improved patient outcomes, including improvements in symptom control, quality of life, and end of life care, when it is delivered by an interdisciplinary team rather than by a solo practitioner.
You may think that teamwork is most useful for patients like John who have seemingly intractable social barriers. But it is also true that for even patients with many more social advantages teamwork improves quality of life. I got to see this up close recently in my own life.
Teamwork improves quality of life
My father recently passed away after a 9-month battle with advanced cancer. He had every advantage possible – financial stability, high health literacy, an incredibly devoted spouse who happens to be an RN, good insurance, and access to top-notch medical care. Yet, even he benefited from a team approach. It started small, with the oncologist and oncology NP providing excellent, patient-centered care. Then it grew to include myself as the daughter/palliative care nurse practitioner who made recommendations for treating his nausea and ensured that his advance directive was completed and uploaded to his chart. When my dad needed physical therapy, the home health agency sent a wonderful physical therapist, who brought all sorts of equipment that kept him more functional than he would have been otherwise. Other family members helped out – my sisters helped connect my dad with a priest who came to the home to provide spiritual care, which was crucial to ensuring that he was at peace. And, in his final days, my dad had the hospice team to help manage his symptoms and his family members to provide hands-on care.
The complexity of cancer care has long necessitated a team approach to planning cancer treatment – known as a tumor board – with medical oncology, radiation oncology, surgery, and pathology all weighing in. It makes sense that patients and their families would also need a team of clinicians representing different specialty areas to assist with the wide array of physical, psychosocial, practical, and spiritual concerns that arise throughout the cancer disease trajectory.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
John worked as a handyman and lived on a small sailboat in a marina. When he was diagnosed with metastatic kidney cancer at age 48, he quickly fell through the cracks. He failed to show to appointments and took oral anticancer treatments, but just sporadically. He had Medicaid, so insurance wasn’t the issue. It was everything else.
John was behind on his slip fees; he hadn’t been able to work for some time because of his progressive weakness and pain. He was chronically in danger of getting kicked out of his makeshift home aboard the boat. He had no reliable transportation to the clinic and so he didn’t come to appointments regularly. The specialty pharmacy refused to deliver his expensive oral chemotherapy to his address at the marina. He went days without eating full meals because he was too weak to cook for himself. Plus, he was estranged from his family who were unaware of his illness. His oncologist was overwhelmed trying to take care of him. He had a reasonable chance of achieving disease control on first-line oral therapy, but his problems seemed to hinder these chances at every turn. She was distraught – what could she do?
Enter the team approach. John’s oncologist reached out to our palliative care program for help. We recognized that this was a job too big for us alone so we connected John with the Extensivist Medicine program at UCLA Health, a high-intensity primary care program led by a physician specializing in primary care for high-risk individuals. The program provides wraparound outpatient services for chronically and seriously ill patients, like John, who are at risk for falling through the cracks. John went from receiving very little support to now having an entire team of caring professionals focused on helping him achieve his best possible outcome despite the seriousness of his disease.
He now had the support of a high-functioning team with clearly defined roles. Social work connected him with housing, food, and transportation resources. A nurse called him every day to check in and make sure he was taking medications and reminded him about his upcoming appointments. Case management helped him get needed equipment, such as grab bars and a walker. As his palliative care nurse practitioner, I counseled him on understanding his prognosis and planning ahead for medical emergencies. Our psycho-oncology clinicians helped John reconcile with his family, who were more than willing to take him in once they realized how ill he was. Once these social factors were addressed, John could more easily stay current with his oral chemotherapy, giving him the best chance possible to achieve a robust treatment response that could buy him more time.
And, John did get that time – he got 6 months of improved quality of life, during which he reconnected with his family, including his children, and rebuilt these important relationships. Eventually treatment failed him. His disease, already widely metastatic, became more active and painful. He accepted hospice care at his sister’s house and we transitioned him from our team to the hospice team. He died peacefully surrounded by family.
Interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to treat ‘total pain’
None of this would have been possible without the work of high-functioning teams. It is a commonly held belief that interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to the care of patients and families living with serious illness. But why? How did this idea come about? And what evidence is there to support teamwork?
Dame Cicely Saunders, who founded the modern hospice movement in mid-20th century England, embodied the interdisciplinary team by working first as a nurse, then a social worker, and finally as a physician. She wrote about patients’ “total pain,” the crisis of physical, spiritual, social, and emotional distress that many people have at the end of life. She understood that no single health care discipline was adequate to the task of addressing each of these domains equally well. Thus, hospice became synonymous with care provided by a quartet of specialists – physicians, nurses, social workers, and chaplains. Nowadays, there are other specialists that are added to the mix – home health aides, pharmacists, physical and occupational therapists, music and pet therapists, and so on.
But in medicine, like all areas of science, convention and tradition only go so far. What evidence is there to support the work of an interdisciplinary team in managing the distress of patients and families living with advanced illnesses? It turns out that there is good evidence to support the use of high-functioning interdisciplinary teams in the care of the seriously ill. Palliative care is associated with improved patient outcomes, including improvements in symptom control, quality of life, and end of life care, when it is delivered by an interdisciplinary team rather than by a solo practitioner.
You may think that teamwork is most useful for patients like John who have seemingly intractable social barriers. But it is also true that for even patients with many more social advantages teamwork improves quality of life. I got to see this up close recently in my own life.
Teamwork improves quality of life
My father recently passed away after a 9-month battle with advanced cancer. He had every advantage possible – financial stability, high health literacy, an incredibly devoted spouse who happens to be an RN, good insurance, and access to top-notch medical care. Yet, even he benefited from a team approach. It started small, with the oncologist and oncology NP providing excellent, patient-centered care. Then it grew to include myself as the daughter/palliative care nurse practitioner who made recommendations for treating his nausea and ensured that his advance directive was completed and uploaded to his chart. When my dad needed physical therapy, the home health agency sent a wonderful physical therapist, who brought all sorts of equipment that kept him more functional than he would have been otherwise. Other family members helped out – my sisters helped connect my dad with a priest who came to the home to provide spiritual care, which was crucial to ensuring that he was at peace. And, in his final days, my dad had the hospice team to help manage his symptoms and his family members to provide hands-on care.
The complexity of cancer care has long necessitated a team approach to planning cancer treatment – known as a tumor board – with medical oncology, radiation oncology, surgery, and pathology all weighing in. It makes sense that patients and their families would also need a team of clinicians representing different specialty areas to assist with the wide array of physical, psychosocial, practical, and spiritual concerns that arise throughout the cancer disease trajectory.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
John worked as a handyman and lived on a small sailboat in a marina. When he was diagnosed with metastatic kidney cancer at age 48, he quickly fell through the cracks. He failed to show to appointments and took oral anticancer treatments, but just sporadically. He had Medicaid, so insurance wasn’t the issue. It was everything else.
John was behind on his slip fees; he hadn’t been able to work for some time because of his progressive weakness and pain. He was chronically in danger of getting kicked out of his makeshift home aboard the boat. He had no reliable transportation to the clinic and so he didn’t come to appointments regularly. The specialty pharmacy refused to deliver his expensive oral chemotherapy to his address at the marina. He went days without eating full meals because he was too weak to cook for himself. Plus, he was estranged from his family who were unaware of his illness. His oncologist was overwhelmed trying to take care of him. He had a reasonable chance of achieving disease control on first-line oral therapy, but his problems seemed to hinder these chances at every turn. She was distraught – what could she do?
Enter the team approach. John’s oncologist reached out to our palliative care program for help. We recognized that this was a job too big for us alone so we connected John with the Extensivist Medicine program at UCLA Health, a high-intensity primary care program led by a physician specializing in primary care for high-risk individuals. The program provides wraparound outpatient services for chronically and seriously ill patients, like John, who are at risk for falling through the cracks. John went from receiving very little support to now having an entire team of caring professionals focused on helping him achieve his best possible outcome despite the seriousness of his disease.
He now had the support of a high-functioning team with clearly defined roles. Social work connected him with housing, food, and transportation resources. A nurse called him every day to check in and make sure he was taking medications and reminded him about his upcoming appointments. Case management helped him get needed equipment, such as grab bars and a walker. As his palliative care nurse practitioner, I counseled him on understanding his prognosis and planning ahead for medical emergencies. Our psycho-oncology clinicians helped John reconcile with his family, who were more than willing to take him in once they realized how ill he was. Once these social factors were addressed, John could more easily stay current with his oral chemotherapy, giving him the best chance possible to achieve a robust treatment response that could buy him more time.
And, John did get that time – he got 6 months of improved quality of life, during which he reconnected with his family, including his children, and rebuilt these important relationships. Eventually treatment failed him. His disease, already widely metastatic, became more active and painful. He accepted hospice care at his sister’s house and we transitioned him from our team to the hospice team. He died peacefully surrounded by family.
Interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to treat ‘total pain’
None of this would have been possible without the work of high-functioning teams. It is a commonly held belief that interprofessional teamwork is fundamental to the care of patients and families living with serious illness. But why? How did this idea come about? And what evidence is there to support teamwork?
Dame Cicely Saunders, who founded the modern hospice movement in mid-20th century England, embodied the interdisciplinary team by working first as a nurse, then a social worker, and finally as a physician. She wrote about patients’ “total pain,” the crisis of physical, spiritual, social, and emotional distress that many people have at the end of life. She understood that no single health care discipline was adequate to the task of addressing each of these domains equally well. Thus, hospice became synonymous with care provided by a quartet of specialists – physicians, nurses, social workers, and chaplains. Nowadays, there are other specialists that are added to the mix – home health aides, pharmacists, physical and occupational therapists, music and pet therapists, and so on.
But in medicine, like all areas of science, convention and tradition only go so far. What evidence is there to support the work of an interdisciplinary team in managing the distress of patients and families living with advanced illnesses? It turns out that there is good evidence to support the use of high-functioning interdisciplinary teams in the care of the seriously ill. Palliative care is associated with improved patient outcomes, including improvements in symptom control, quality of life, and end of life care, when it is delivered by an interdisciplinary team rather than by a solo practitioner.
You may think that teamwork is most useful for patients like John who have seemingly intractable social barriers. But it is also true that for even patients with many more social advantages teamwork improves quality of life. I got to see this up close recently in my own life.
Teamwork improves quality of life
My father recently passed away after a 9-month battle with advanced cancer. He had every advantage possible – financial stability, high health literacy, an incredibly devoted spouse who happens to be an RN, good insurance, and access to top-notch medical care. Yet, even he benefited from a team approach. It started small, with the oncologist and oncology NP providing excellent, patient-centered care. Then it grew to include myself as the daughter/palliative care nurse practitioner who made recommendations for treating his nausea and ensured that his advance directive was completed and uploaded to his chart. When my dad needed physical therapy, the home health agency sent a wonderful physical therapist, who brought all sorts of equipment that kept him more functional than he would have been otherwise. Other family members helped out – my sisters helped connect my dad with a priest who came to the home to provide spiritual care, which was crucial to ensuring that he was at peace. And, in his final days, my dad had the hospice team to help manage his symptoms and his family members to provide hands-on care.
The complexity of cancer care has long necessitated a team approach to planning cancer treatment – known as a tumor board – with medical oncology, radiation oncology, surgery, and pathology all weighing in. It makes sense that patients and their families would also need a team of clinicians representing different specialty areas to assist with the wide array of physical, psychosocial, practical, and spiritual concerns that arise throughout the cancer disease trajectory.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
Patients with blood cancers underutilize palliative care
I used to attend the Supportive Care in Oncology Symposium every year, but to my dismay, the American Society for Clinical Oncology stopped hosting the symposium a few years ago. Instead, ASCO now incorporates palliative care research fully into its annual meeting which was held in early June in Chicago. Being integrated into the annual meeting means greater exposure to a broader audience that may not otherwise see this work. In this column, I highlight some presentations that stood out to me.
Palliative care studies for patients with hematologic malignancies
There continues to be low uptake of outpatient palliative care services among patients with hematologic malignancies. Fortunately, there are efforts underway to study the impact of integrating early palliative care into the routine care of hematology patients. In a study presented by Mazie Tsang, MD, a clinical fellow at the University of California, San Francisco, researchers embedded a palliative care nurse practitioner in a hematology clinic and studied the impact this single NP had over 4 years of integration. They found that patients were less likely to be hospitalized or visit the emergency department after integrating the NP. They also found that advance directives were more likely to be completed following NP integration. The results were limited by small sample size and lack of a true control group, but generally trended toward significance when compared with historical controls.
Other studies highlighted the relatively high symptom burden among patients with hematologic malignancies, such as myeloma, leukemia, and lymphoma. In a study presented by Sarah E. Monick, MD, of the University of Chicago, researchers found that, among adolescents and young adults with hematologic malignancies seen in a clinic where a palliative care provider was embedded, symptom burden was high across the board regardless of where patients were in their disease trajectory or their demographic characteristics. Due to the presence of high symptom burden among adolescents and young adults, the authors suggest that patients undergo screening at every visit and that supportive care be incorporated throughout the patient’s journey.
Kyle Fitzgibbon of the Princess Margaret Cancer Centre in Toronto shared details of an ongoing multicenter, randomized, controlled, phase 3 trial designed to evaluate the effect of a novel psychosocial/palliative care intervention for patients with acute leukemia hospitalized for induction chemotherapy. The intervention will consist of 8 weeks of psychological support as well as access to palliative care for physical symptoms. Participants will be randomized to receive either intervention or standard of care at the beginning of their hospitalization. Researchers plan to study the impact of the intervention on physical and psychological symptom severity, quality of life, and patient satisfaction at multiple time points. It will be exciting to see the results of this study given that there are very few research clinical trials examining early palliative care with patients who have hematologic malignancies.
Trends in palliative care integration with oncology care
One key trend that I am elated to see is the integration of palliative care throughout the entire patient journey. A secondary analysis of oncology practice data from the National Cancer Institute Community Oncology Research Program found that more than three-quarters of outpatient oncology practices surveyed in 2015 have integrated palliative care inpatient and outpatient services. 36% said they had an outpatient palliative care clinic. More availability of services typically translates to better access to care and improved outcomes for patients, so it is always nice to see these quality metrics continue to move in a positive direction. The analysis was presented by Tiffany M. Statler, PA, of Atrium Health Wake Forest Baptist, Winston Salem, N.C.
It turns out that patients are also advocating for integrated palliative care. A unique qualitative project brought together patient advocates from several countries to hold a moderated discussion about quality of life and treatment side effects. The advocates focused on the importance of maintaining independence with activities of daily living as a significant quality of life goal, particularly as treatments tend to cause cumulative mental and physical fatigue. They highlighted the importance of palliative care for helping achieve quality of life goals, especially in latter part of the disease trajectory. The project was presented by Paul Wheatley-Price, MD, of the Ottawa Hospital Cancer Centre, University of Ottawa.
In 2010, a study by Temel and colleagues was published, finding that patients with metastatic non–small cell lung cancer who received palliative care early had significant improvements in quality of life and mood as compared with patients who received standard care. It was a landmark study and is frequently cited. The Temel group reports on the planning process for a new randomized controlled trial of palliative care with metastatic lung cancer patients who have targetable mutations. With next generation sequencing of tumor tissue, many patients with metastatic lung cancer are identified at diagnosis as having a targetable mutation. As such, they may receive a targeted therapy as first-line treatment instead of traditional chemotherapy. This has lengthened survival considerably, but the disease remains incurable and ultimately fatal, and the trajectory can resemble a roller-coaster ride.
In this new randomized controlled trial, patients in the experimental arm will receive four monthly visits with a palliative care clinician who is specially trained to help patients manage the uncertainties of prolonged illness. The researchers plan to evaluate patients’ distress levels and prognostic awareness, as well as evidence of advance care planning in the chart.
And, a study presented by Roberto Enrique Ochoa Planchart, MD, of Chen Medical Centers, Miami, found that when primary care providers used declines in functional status as a trigger for referring advanced cancer patients to palliative care, those patients were less likely to be admitted to the hospital near the end of life, translating to an 86% cost savings. This study reiterated the importance of partnering with a patient’s nononcologic providers, that is, primary care and palliative care clinicians to improve outcomes at the end of life.
Use of technology in palliative care
Numerous studies were reported on innovative uses of technology for various functions relevant to palliative care. They included everything from capturing patient-reported outcomes through patient-facing smartphone apps, to using artificial intelligence and/or machine learning to build prognostication tools and to generate earlier referrals to palliative care. There were presentations on the use of online tools to assist with and document goals of care conversations.
As a clinician who is always looking for new ways to capture patient symptom information and motivate patients to engage in advance care planning, I am excited about the prospect of using some of these tools in real time.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I used to attend the Supportive Care in Oncology Symposium every year, but to my dismay, the American Society for Clinical Oncology stopped hosting the symposium a few years ago. Instead, ASCO now incorporates palliative care research fully into its annual meeting which was held in early June in Chicago. Being integrated into the annual meeting means greater exposure to a broader audience that may not otherwise see this work. In this column, I highlight some presentations that stood out to me.
Palliative care studies for patients with hematologic malignancies
There continues to be low uptake of outpatient palliative care services among patients with hematologic malignancies. Fortunately, there are efforts underway to study the impact of integrating early palliative care into the routine care of hematology patients. In a study presented by Mazie Tsang, MD, a clinical fellow at the University of California, San Francisco, researchers embedded a palliative care nurse practitioner in a hematology clinic and studied the impact this single NP had over 4 years of integration. They found that patients were less likely to be hospitalized or visit the emergency department after integrating the NP. They also found that advance directives were more likely to be completed following NP integration. The results were limited by small sample size and lack of a true control group, but generally trended toward significance when compared with historical controls.
Other studies highlighted the relatively high symptom burden among patients with hematologic malignancies, such as myeloma, leukemia, and lymphoma. In a study presented by Sarah E. Monick, MD, of the University of Chicago, researchers found that, among adolescents and young adults with hematologic malignancies seen in a clinic where a palliative care provider was embedded, symptom burden was high across the board regardless of where patients were in their disease trajectory or their demographic characteristics. Due to the presence of high symptom burden among adolescents and young adults, the authors suggest that patients undergo screening at every visit and that supportive care be incorporated throughout the patient’s journey.
Kyle Fitzgibbon of the Princess Margaret Cancer Centre in Toronto shared details of an ongoing multicenter, randomized, controlled, phase 3 trial designed to evaluate the effect of a novel psychosocial/palliative care intervention for patients with acute leukemia hospitalized for induction chemotherapy. The intervention will consist of 8 weeks of psychological support as well as access to palliative care for physical symptoms. Participants will be randomized to receive either intervention or standard of care at the beginning of their hospitalization. Researchers plan to study the impact of the intervention on physical and psychological symptom severity, quality of life, and patient satisfaction at multiple time points. It will be exciting to see the results of this study given that there are very few research clinical trials examining early palliative care with patients who have hematologic malignancies.
Trends in palliative care integration with oncology care
One key trend that I am elated to see is the integration of palliative care throughout the entire patient journey. A secondary analysis of oncology practice data from the National Cancer Institute Community Oncology Research Program found that more than three-quarters of outpatient oncology practices surveyed in 2015 have integrated palliative care inpatient and outpatient services. 36% said they had an outpatient palliative care clinic. More availability of services typically translates to better access to care and improved outcomes for patients, so it is always nice to see these quality metrics continue to move in a positive direction. The analysis was presented by Tiffany M. Statler, PA, of Atrium Health Wake Forest Baptist, Winston Salem, N.C.
It turns out that patients are also advocating for integrated palliative care. A unique qualitative project brought together patient advocates from several countries to hold a moderated discussion about quality of life and treatment side effects. The advocates focused on the importance of maintaining independence with activities of daily living as a significant quality of life goal, particularly as treatments tend to cause cumulative mental and physical fatigue. They highlighted the importance of palliative care for helping achieve quality of life goals, especially in latter part of the disease trajectory. The project was presented by Paul Wheatley-Price, MD, of the Ottawa Hospital Cancer Centre, University of Ottawa.
In 2010, a study by Temel and colleagues was published, finding that patients with metastatic non–small cell lung cancer who received palliative care early had significant improvements in quality of life and mood as compared with patients who received standard care. It was a landmark study and is frequently cited. The Temel group reports on the planning process for a new randomized controlled trial of palliative care with metastatic lung cancer patients who have targetable mutations. With next generation sequencing of tumor tissue, many patients with metastatic lung cancer are identified at diagnosis as having a targetable mutation. As such, they may receive a targeted therapy as first-line treatment instead of traditional chemotherapy. This has lengthened survival considerably, but the disease remains incurable and ultimately fatal, and the trajectory can resemble a roller-coaster ride.
In this new randomized controlled trial, patients in the experimental arm will receive four monthly visits with a palliative care clinician who is specially trained to help patients manage the uncertainties of prolonged illness. The researchers plan to evaluate patients’ distress levels and prognostic awareness, as well as evidence of advance care planning in the chart.
And, a study presented by Roberto Enrique Ochoa Planchart, MD, of Chen Medical Centers, Miami, found that when primary care providers used declines in functional status as a trigger for referring advanced cancer patients to palliative care, those patients were less likely to be admitted to the hospital near the end of life, translating to an 86% cost savings. This study reiterated the importance of partnering with a patient’s nononcologic providers, that is, primary care and palliative care clinicians to improve outcomes at the end of life.
Use of technology in palliative care
Numerous studies were reported on innovative uses of technology for various functions relevant to palliative care. They included everything from capturing patient-reported outcomes through patient-facing smartphone apps, to using artificial intelligence and/or machine learning to build prognostication tools and to generate earlier referrals to palliative care. There were presentations on the use of online tools to assist with and document goals of care conversations.
As a clinician who is always looking for new ways to capture patient symptom information and motivate patients to engage in advance care planning, I am excited about the prospect of using some of these tools in real time.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I used to attend the Supportive Care in Oncology Symposium every year, but to my dismay, the American Society for Clinical Oncology stopped hosting the symposium a few years ago. Instead, ASCO now incorporates palliative care research fully into its annual meeting which was held in early June in Chicago. Being integrated into the annual meeting means greater exposure to a broader audience that may not otherwise see this work. In this column, I highlight some presentations that stood out to me.
Palliative care studies for patients with hematologic malignancies
There continues to be low uptake of outpatient palliative care services among patients with hematologic malignancies. Fortunately, there are efforts underway to study the impact of integrating early palliative care into the routine care of hematology patients. In a study presented by Mazie Tsang, MD, a clinical fellow at the University of California, San Francisco, researchers embedded a palliative care nurse practitioner in a hematology clinic and studied the impact this single NP had over 4 years of integration. They found that patients were less likely to be hospitalized or visit the emergency department after integrating the NP. They also found that advance directives were more likely to be completed following NP integration. The results were limited by small sample size and lack of a true control group, but generally trended toward significance when compared with historical controls.
Other studies highlighted the relatively high symptom burden among patients with hematologic malignancies, such as myeloma, leukemia, and lymphoma. In a study presented by Sarah E. Monick, MD, of the University of Chicago, researchers found that, among adolescents and young adults with hematologic malignancies seen in a clinic where a palliative care provider was embedded, symptom burden was high across the board regardless of where patients were in their disease trajectory or their demographic characteristics. Due to the presence of high symptom burden among adolescents and young adults, the authors suggest that patients undergo screening at every visit and that supportive care be incorporated throughout the patient’s journey.
Kyle Fitzgibbon of the Princess Margaret Cancer Centre in Toronto shared details of an ongoing multicenter, randomized, controlled, phase 3 trial designed to evaluate the effect of a novel psychosocial/palliative care intervention for patients with acute leukemia hospitalized for induction chemotherapy. The intervention will consist of 8 weeks of psychological support as well as access to palliative care for physical symptoms. Participants will be randomized to receive either intervention or standard of care at the beginning of their hospitalization. Researchers plan to study the impact of the intervention on physical and psychological symptom severity, quality of life, and patient satisfaction at multiple time points. It will be exciting to see the results of this study given that there are very few research clinical trials examining early palliative care with patients who have hematologic malignancies.
Trends in palliative care integration with oncology care
One key trend that I am elated to see is the integration of palliative care throughout the entire patient journey. A secondary analysis of oncology practice data from the National Cancer Institute Community Oncology Research Program found that more than three-quarters of outpatient oncology practices surveyed in 2015 have integrated palliative care inpatient and outpatient services. 36% said they had an outpatient palliative care clinic. More availability of services typically translates to better access to care and improved outcomes for patients, so it is always nice to see these quality metrics continue to move in a positive direction. The analysis was presented by Tiffany M. Statler, PA, of Atrium Health Wake Forest Baptist, Winston Salem, N.C.
It turns out that patients are also advocating for integrated palliative care. A unique qualitative project brought together patient advocates from several countries to hold a moderated discussion about quality of life and treatment side effects. The advocates focused on the importance of maintaining independence with activities of daily living as a significant quality of life goal, particularly as treatments tend to cause cumulative mental and physical fatigue. They highlighted the importance of palliative care for helping achieve quality of life goals, especially in latter part of the disease trajectory. The project was presented by Paul Wheatley-Price, MD, of the Ottawa Hospital Cancer Centre, University of Ottawa.
In 2010, a study by Temel and colleagues was published, finding that patients with metastatic non–small cell lung cancer who received palliative care early had significant improvements in quality of life and mood as compared with patients who received standard care. It was a landmark study and is frequently cited. The Temel group reports on the planning process for a new randomized controlled trial of palliative care with metastatic lung cancer patients who have targetable mutations. With next generation sequencing of tumor tissue, many patients with metastatic lung cancer are identified at diagnosis as having a targetable mutation. As such, they may receive a targeted therapy as first-line treatment instead of traditional chemotherapy. This has lengthened survival considerably, but the disease remains incurable and ultimately fatal, and the trajectory can resemble a roller-coaster ride.
In this new randomized controlled trial, patients in the experimental arm will receive four monthly visits with a palliative care clinician who is specially trained to help patients manage the uncertainties of prolonged illness. The researchers plan to evaluate patients’ distress levels and prognostic awareness, as well as evidence of advance care planning in the chart.
And, a study presented by Roberto Enrique Ochoa Planchart, MD, of Chen Medical Centers, Miami, found that when primary care providers used declines in functional status as a trigger for referring advanced cancer patients to palliative care, those patients were less likely to be admitted to the hospital near the end of life, translating to an 86% cost savings. This study reiterated the importance of partnering with a patient’s nononcologic providers, that is, primary care and palliative care clinicians to improve outcomes at the end of life.
Use of technology in palliative care
Numerous studies were reported on innovative uses of technology for various functions relevant to palliative care. They included everything from capturing patient-reported outcomes through patient-facing smartphone apps, to using artificial intelligence and/or machine learning to build prognostication tools and to generate earlier referrals to palliative care. There were presentations on the use of online tools to assist with and document goals of care conversations.
As a clinician who is always looking for new ways to capture patient symptom information and motivate patients to engage in advance care planning, I am excited about the prospect of using some of these tools in real time.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
FROM ASCO 2022
Dodging potholes from cancer care to hospice transitions
I’m often in the position of caring for patients after they’ve stopped active cancer treatments, but before they’ve made the decision to enroll in hospice. They remain under my care until they feel emotionally ready, or until their care needs have escalated to the point in which hospice is unavoidable.
Jenny, a mom in her 50s with metastatic pancreatic cancer, stopped coming to the clinic. She lived about 40 minutes away from the clinic and was no longer receiving treatment. The car rides were painful and difficult for her. I held weekly video visits with her for 2 months before she eventually went to hospice and passed away. Before she died, she shared with me her sadness that her oncologist – who had taken care of her for 3 years – had “washed his hands of [me].” She rarely heard from him after their final conversation in the clinic when he informed her that she was no longer a candidate for further therapy. The sense of abandonment Jenny described was visceral and devastating. With her permission, I let her oncology team know how she felt and they reached out to her just 1 week before her death. After she died, her husband told me how meaningful it had been for the whole family to hear from Jenny’s oncologist who told them that she had done everything possible to fight her cancer and that “no stone was left unturned.” Her husband felt this final conversation provided Jenny with the closure she needed to pass away peacefully.
Transitioning from active therapy to symptom management
Switching gears from an all-out pursuit of active therapy to focusing on cancer symptoms is often a scary transition for patients and their families. The transition is often viewed as a movement away from hope and optimism to “giving up the fight.” Whether you agree with the warrior language or not, many patients still describe their journey in these terms and thus, experience enrollment in hospice as a sense of having failed.
The sense of failure can be compounded by feelings of abandonment by oncology providers when they are referred without much guidance or continuity through the hospice enrollment process. Unfortunately, the consequences of suboptimal hospice transitions can be damaging, especially for the mental health and well-being of the patient and their surviving loved ones.
When managed poorly, hospice transitions can easily lead to patient and family harm, which is a claim supported by research. A qualitative study published in 2019 included 92 caregivers of patients with terminal cancer. The authors found three common pathways for end-of-life transitions – a frictionless transition in which the patient and family are well prepared in advance by their oncologist; a more turbulent transition in which patient and family had direct conversations with their oncologist about the incurability of the disease and the lack of efficacy of further treatments, but were given no guidance on prognosis; and a third type of transition marked by abrupt shifts toward end-of-life care occurring in extremis and typically in the hospital.
In the latter two groups, caregivers felt their loved ones died very quickly after stopping treatment, taking them by surprise and leaving them rushing to put end-of-life care plans in place without much support from their oncologists. In the last group, caregivers shared they received their first prognostic information from the hospital or ICU doctor caring for their actively dying loved one, leaving them with a sense of anger and betrayal toward their oncologist for allowing them to be so ill-prepared.
A Japanese survey published in 2018 in The Oncologist of families of cancer patients who had passed away under hospice care over a 2-year period (2012-2014), found that about one-quarter felt abandoned by oncologists. Several factors that were associated with feeling either more or less abandonment. Spouses of patients, patients aged less than 60 years, and patients whose oncologists informed them that there was “nothing more to do” felt more abandoned by oncologists; whereas families for whom the oncologist provided reassurance about the trajectory of care, recommended hospice, and engaged with a palliative care team felt less abandoned by oncologists. Families who felt more abandoned had higher levels of depression and grief when measured with standardized instruments.
‘Don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away’
Fortunately, there are a few low-resource interventions that can improve the quality of care-to-hospice transitions and prevent the sense of abandonment felt by many patients and families.
First, don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away. Designate a staffer in your office to contact hospice directly, ensure all medical records are faxed and received, and update the patient and family on this progress throughout the transition. Taking care of details like these ensures the patient enrolls in hospice in a timely manner and reduces the chance the patient, who is likely to be quite sick at this point, will end up in the hospital despite your best efforts to get hospice involved.
Make sure the patient and family understand that you are still their oncologist and still available to them. If they want to continue care with you, have them name you as the “non–hospice-attending physician” so that you can continue to bill for telemedicine and office visits using the terminal diagnosis (with a billing modifier). This does not mean that you will be expected to manage the patient’s hospice problem list or respond to hospice nurse calls at 2 a.m. – the hospice doctor will still do this. It just ensures that patients do not receive a bill if you continue to see them.
If ongoing office or video visits are too much for the patient and family, consider assigning a member of your team to call the patient and family on a weekly basis to check in and offer support. A small 2018 pilot study aimed at improving communication found that when caregivers of advanced cancer patients transitioning to hospice received weekly supportive phone calls by a member of their oncology team (typically a nurse or nurse practitioner), they felt emotionally supported, had good continuity of care throughout the hospice enrollment, and appreciated the ability to have closure with their oncology team. In other words, a sense of abandonment was prevented and the patient-provider relationship was actually deepened through the transition.
These suggestions are not rocket science – they are simple, obvious ways to try to restore patient-centeredness to a transition that for providers can seem routine, but for patients and families is often the first time they have confronted the reality that death is approaching. That reality is terrifying and overwhelming. Patients and caregivers need our support more during hospice transitions than at any other point during their cancer journey – except perhaps at diagnosis.
As with Jenny, my patient who felt abandoned, all it took was a single call by her oncology team to restore the trust and heal the sense of feeling forsaken by the people who cared for her for years. Sometimes, even just one more phone call can feel like a lot to a chronically overburdened provider – but what a difference a simple call can make.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I’m often in the position of caring for patients after they’ve stopped active cancer treatments, but before they’ve made the decision to enroll in hospice. They remain under my care until they feel emotionally ready, or until their care needs have escalated to the point in which hospice is unavoidable.
Jenny, a mom in her 50s with metastatic pancreatic cancer, stopped coming to the clinic. She lived about 40 minutes away from the clinic and was no longer receiving treatment. The car rides were painful and difficult for her. I held weekly video visits with her for 2 months before she eventually went to hospice and passed away. Before she died, she shared with me her sadness that her oncologist – who had taken care of her for 3 years – had “washed his hands of [me].” She rarely heard from him after their final conversation in the clinic when he informed her that she was no longer a candidate for further therapy. The sense of abandonment Jenny described was visceral and devastating. With her permission, I let her oncology team know how she felt and they reached out to her just 1 week before her death. After she died, her husband told me how meaningful it had been for the whole family to hear from Jenny’s oncologist who told them that she had done everything possible to fight her cancer and that “no stone was left unturned.” Her husband felt this final conversation provided Jenny with the closure she needed to pass away peacefully.
Transitioning from active therapy to symptom management
Switching gears from an all-out pursuit of active therapy to focusing on cancer symptoms is often a scary transition for patients and their families. The transition is often viewed as a movement away from hope and optimism to “giving up the fight.” Whether you agree with the warrior language or not, many patients still describe their journey in these terms and thus, experience enrollment in hospice as a sense of having failed.
The sense of failure can be compounded by feelings of abandonment by oncology providers when they are referred without much guidance or continuity through the hospice enrollment process. Unfortunately, the consequences of suboptimal hospice transitions can be damaging, especially for the mental health and well-being of the patient and their surviving loved ones.
When managed poorly, hospice transitions can easily lead to patient and family harm, which is a claim supported by research. A qualitative study published in 2019 included 92 caregivers of patients with terminal cancer. The authors found three common pathways for end-of-life transitions – a frictionless transition in which the patient and family are well prepared in advance by their oncologist; a more turbulent transition in which patient and family had direct conversations with their oncologist about the incurability of the disease and the lack of efficacy of further treatments, but were given no guidance on prognosis; and a third type of transition marked by abrupt shifts toward end-of-life care occurring in extremis and typically in the hospital.
In the latter two groups, caregivers felt their loved ones died very quickly after stopping treatment, taking them by surprise and leaving them rushing to put end-of-life care plans in place without much support from their oncologists. In the last group, caregivers shared they received their first prognostic information from the hospital or ICU doctor caring for their actively dying loved one, leaving them with a sense of anger and betrayal toward their oncologist for allowing them to be so ill-prepared.
A Japanese survey published in 2018 in The Oncologist of families of cancer patients who had passed away under hospice care over a 2-year period (2012-2014), found that about one-quarter felt abandoned by oncologists. Several factors that were associated with feeling either more or less abandonment. Spouses of patients, patients aged less than 60 years, and patients whose oncologists informed them that there was “nothing more to do” felt more abandoned by oncologists; whereas families for whom the oncologist provided reassurance about the trajectory of care, recommended hospice, and engaged with a palliative care team felt less abandoned by oncologists. Families who felt more abandoned had higher levels of depression and grief when measured with standardized instruments.
‘Don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away’
Fortunately, there are a few low-resource interventions that can improve the quality of care-to-hospice transitions and prevent the sense of abandonment felt by many patients and families.
First, don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away. Designate a staffer in your office to contact hospice directly, ensure all medical records are faxed and received, and update the patient and family on this progress throughout the transition. Taking care of details like these ensures the patient enrolls in hospice in a timely manner and reduces the chance the patient, who is likely to be quite sick at this point, will end up in the hospital despite your best efforts to get hospice involved.
Make sure the patient and family understand that you are still their oncologist and still available to them. If they want to continue care with you, have them name you as the “non–hospice-attending physician” so that you can continue to bill for telemedicine and office visits using the terminal diagnosis (with a billing modifier). This does not mean that you will be expected to manage the patient’s hospice problem list or respond to hospice nurse calls at 2 a.m. – the hospice doctor will still do this. It just ensures that patients do not receive a bill if you continue to see them.
If ongoing office or video visits are too much for the patient and family, consider assigning a member of your team to call the patient and family on a weekly basis to check in and offer support. A small 2018 pilot study aimed at improving communication found that when caregivers of advanced cancer patients transitioning to hospice received weekly supportive phone calls by a member of their oncology team (typically a nurse or nurse practitioner), they felt emotionally supported, had good continuity of care throughout the hospice enrollment, and appreciated the ability to have closure with their oncology team. In other words, a sense of abandonment was prevented and the patient-provider relationship was actually deepened through the transition.
These suggestions are not rocket science – they are simple, obvious ways to try to restore patient-centeredness to a transition that for providers can seem routine, but for patients and families is often the first time they have confronted the reality that death is approaching. That reality is terrifying and overwhelming. Patients and caregivers need our support more during hospice transitions than at any other point during their cancer journey – except perhaps at diagnosis.
As with Jenny, my patient who felt abandoned, all it took was a single call by her oncology team to restore the trust and heal the sense of feeling forsaken by the people who cared for her for years. Sometimes, even just one more phone call can feel like a lot to a chronically overburdened provider – but what a difference a simple call can make.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
I’m often in the position of caring for patients after they’ve stopped active cancer treatments, but before they’ve made the decision to enroll in hospice. They remain under my care until they feel emotionally ready, or until their care needs have escalated to the point in which hospice is unavoidable.
Jenny, a mom in her 50s with metastatic pancreatic cancer, stopped coming to the clinic. She lived about 40 minutes away from the clinic and was no longer receiving treatment. The car rides were painful and difficult for her. I held weekly video visits with her for 2 months before she eventually went to hospice and passed away. Before she died, she shared with me her sadness that her oncologist – who had taken care of her for 3 years – had “washed his hands of [me].” She rarely heard from him after their final conversation in the clinic when he informed her that she was no longer a candidate for further therapy. The sense of abandonment Jenny described was visceral and devastating. With her permission, I let her oncology team know how she felt and they reached out to her just 1 week before her death. After she died, her husband told me how meaningful it had been for the whole family to hear from Jenny’s oncologist who told them that she had done everything possible to fight her cancer and that “no stone was left unturned.” Her husband felt this final conversation provided Jenny with the closure she needed to pass away peacefully.
Transitioning from active therapy to symptom management
Switching gears from an all-out pursuit of active therapy to focusing on cancer symptoms is often a scary transition for patients and their families. The transition is often viewed as a movement away from hope and optimism to “giving up the fight.” Whether you agree with the warrior language or not, many patients still describe their journey in these terms and thus, experience enrollment in hospice as a sense of having failed.
The sense of failure can be compounded by feelings of abandonment by oncology providers when they are referred without much guidance or continuity through the hospice enrollment process. Unfortunately, the consequences of suboptimal hospice transitions can be damaging, especially for the mental health and well-being of the patient and their surviving loved ones.
When managed poorly, hospice transitions can easily lead to patient and family harm, which is a claim supported by research. A qualitative study published in 2019 included 92 caregivers of patients with terminal cancer. The authors found three common pathways for end-of-life transitions – a frictionless transition in which the patient and family are well prepared in advance by their oncologist; a more turbulent transition in which patient and family had direct conversations with their oncologist about the incurability of the disease and the lack of efficacy of further treatments, but were given no guidance on prognosis; and a third type of transition marked by abrupt shifts toward end-of-life care occurring in extremis and typically in the hospital.
In the latter two groups, caregivers felt their loved ones died very quickly after stopping treatment, taking them by surprise and leaving them rushing to put end-of-life care plans in place without much support from their oncologists. In the last group, caregivers shared they received their first prognostic information from the hospital or ICU doctor caring for their actively dying loved one, leaving them with a sense of anger and betrayal toward their oncologist for allowing them to be so ill-prepared.
A Japanese survey published in 2018 in The Oncologist of families of cancer patients who had passed away under hospice care over a 2-year period (2012-2014), found that about one-quarter felt abandoned by oncologists. Several factors that were associated with feeling either more or less abandonment. Spouses of patients, patients aged less than 60 years, and patients whose oncologists informed them that there was “nothing more to do” felt more abandoned by oncologists; whereas families for whom the oncologist provided reassurance about the trajectory of care, recommended hospice, and engaged with a palliative care team felt less abandoned by oncologists. Families who felt more abandoned had higher levels of depression and grief when measured with standardized instruments.
‘Don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away’
Fortunately, there are a few low-resource interventions that can improve the quality of care-to-hospice transitions and prevent the sense of abandonment felt by many patients and families.
First, don’t just put in the hospice order and walk away. Designate a staffer in your office to contact hospice directly, ensure all medical records are faxed and received, and update the patient and family on this progress throughout the transition. Taking care of details like these ensures the patient enrolls in hospice in a timely manner and reduces the chance the patient, who is likely to be quite sick at this point, will end up in the hospital despite your best efforts to get hospice involved.
Make sure the patient and family understand that you are still their oncologist and still available to them. If they want to continue care with you, have them name you as the “non–hospice-attending physician” so that you can continue to bill for telemedicine and office visits using the terminal diagnosis (with a billing modifier). This does not mean that you will be expected to manage the patient’s hospice problem list or respond to hospice nurse calls at 2 a.m. – the hospice doctor will still do this. It just ensures that patients do not receive a bill if you continue to see them.
If ongoing office or video visits are too much for the patient and family, consider assigning a member of your team to call the patient and family on a weekly basis to check in and offer support. A small 2018 pilot study aimed at improving communication found that when caregivers of advanced cancer patients transitioning to hospice received weekly supportive phone calls by a member of their oncology team (typically a nurse or nurse practitioner), they felt emotionally supported, had good continuity of care throughout the hospice enrollment, and appreciated the ability to have closure with their oncology team. In other words, a sense of abandonment was prevented and the patient-provider relationship was actually deepened through the transition.
These suggestions are not rocket science – they are simple, obvious ways to try to restore patient-centeredness to a transition that for providers can seem routine, but for patients and families is often the first time they have confronted the reality that death is approaching. That reality is terrifying and overwhelming. Patients and caregivers need our support more during hospice transitions than at any other point during their cancer journey – except perhaps at diagnosis.
As with Jenny, my patient who felt abandoned, all it took was a single call by her oncology team to restore the trust and heal the sense of feeling forsaken by the people who cared for her for years. Sometimes, even just one more phone call can feel like a lot to a chronically overburdened provider – but what a difference a simple call can make.
Ms. D’Ambruoso is a hospice and palliative care nurse practitioner for UCLA Health Cancer Care, Santa Monica, Calif.
Filling opioid prescriptions akin to a Sisyphean task
Pain management is a huge part of how we in palliative care help patients – and most of the time, I think we do it well, but in the regulatory environment of the opioid epidemic,
A patient – let’s call her Joan – calls me in distress. She is a 62-year-old woman with widespread metastatic breast cancer. Her pain is mainly due to bone metastases, but she also has discomfort due to the cancer’s invasion of the thin membranes that line her lungs and abdomen.
She was started on a combination opioid and acetaminophen tablet about 2 months ago by her oncologist, but is now requiring it around the clock, nearing the ceiling dose for this particular medication.
Given that her pain is escalating, Joan and I discuss starting a long-acting opioid to better manage the peak and trough effect of short-acting opioids, which can make a patient feel that the pain is relieved only for a few hours at a time, with sharp spikes throughout the day that mandate the next dose of short-acting opioid. This tethers the patient to the clock, having to take as many as six or eight doses of medication per day, and can be very disruptive to daily life.
I send an e-prescription for the same opioid Joan’s currently taking, but in a long-acting format that will slow-release over 8-10 hours, relieving her of the need to take a medication every 3-4 hours. I have learned over the years that nearly every long-acting opioid automatically generates a prior authorization request from the patient’s insurance company and so I immediately email our prior authorization team to submit to Joan’s insurance right away to avoid this extra delay.
Our prior authorization team is exceptionally responsive and submits these requests with urgency every time – they understand that cancer pain is a serious problem and we can’t wait 5 business days for answers. They are typically able to obtain an approved prior authorization for nearly every long-acting opioid I write within 24-48 hours.
But here’s where things go sideways.
First, the insurance company denies the prior authorization request, demanding that I revise the prescription from the long-acting version of the opioid she is currently taking to a cheaper, older opioid that she’s never tried before. In other words, they won’t cover the drug I requested without Joan first trying a completely different drug and failing it. This only makes sense for the insurance company’s bottom line – it makes no clinical sense at all. Why would I try a novel compound that Joan’s never had and one to which I have no idea how she’ll respond when I could keep her on the same compound knowing that she tolerates it just fine?
Past experience tells me insurance companies rarely budge on this, and appealing the decision would just introduce even more delay of care, so I begrudgingly change the prescription and send it again to the pharmacy. I message Joan to let her know that her insurance won’t cover my drug of choice and that we have to try this older one first.
A few hours later, Joan sends me a message: “My pharmacy says it’s going to take A WEEK to get the long-acting medicine!”
In the meantime, Joan has been using her short-acting opioid faster than anticipated because of her escalating pain – so she’s now running low on that as well.
I write for more of her short-acting opioid and e-script it to her pharmacy.
Within a few hours, we get another automatic response from her insurance that we’re going to need a prior authorization for additional short-acting opioid because she’s exceeded “quantity limitations,” which as far as I can tell is a completely arbitrary number not based on clinical evidence.
The prior auth team jumps on it and submits to override the quantity limit – successfully – and sends the override code to her pharmacy to reprocess the prescription.
But now the pharmacist tells Joan that they won’t fill the Rx anyway because it’s “too early.” They tell her that “state laws” prevent them from filling the scrip.
Is this true? I have no idea. I’m not an expert on California pharmacy law. All I know is that my patient is in pain and something needs to happen quickly.
I write for a second short-acting opioid – again a completely different compound. Ironically, this Rx goes through instantly without need for prior authorization. But now Joan has to switch to another new drug for no good medical reason.
If you’re still with me this far into the weeds, I’m grateful. In all it took a combined 4 hours of work (between myself and the prior auth team) to get two opioid Rx’s filled – and these were completely different medications than the ones I originally wrote for. I also had to move her prescriptions to the hospital’s pharmacy (another inconvenience for Joan and her family) so that she could get the medications in a timely manner. All this work to ensure that a single patient had adequate and timely pain relief and to prevent her from having to make an unnecessary visit to the emergency department for pain crisis.
This is just a regular day in outpatient palliative care in the era of the opioid epidemic.
The epidemic has caused tremendous pain and suffering for millions of people over the past 2 decades – namely those lost to opioid overdoses and their loved ones. And for the most part, tightening access to opioids for routine aches and pains among a relatively healthy population is not wrong, in my opinion, as long as those restrictions are based in good faith on robust evidence.
But the hidden cost of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for nonmalignant pain, as well as the flurry of restrictive state laws they generated, is felt every day by patients with serious illness even though the guidelines were never meant to affect them. Patients with active cancer, receiving palliative care services, or at the end of life, were supposed to be exempted from these guidelines since good evidence supports the use of opioids in these populations.
Instead of preserving access to desperately needed pain medicine for those suffering with serious illness, states and insurers have aggressively sought to gatekeep opioids from everyone, resulting in stigma, delays, and needless suffering.
Several recent studies have revealed the effects of this gatekeeping on patients with cancer.
A qualitative study with 26 advanced cancer patients described the demoralization and stigma many patients felt when taking opioids, which they directly tied to media messaging around the opioid epidemic. Even when they reluctantly agreed to take opioids to treat cancer-related pain, there were systemic impediments to achieving adequate pain relief – similar to my experience with Joan – that were directly caused by insurance and pharmacy constraints.
Those of us who care for oncology patients also appear to be undertreating cancer-related pain. Another recent study that found the amount of opioid medications prescribed to an advanced cancer patient near the end of life dropped by 38% between 2007 and 2017. The authors suggest that a direct consequence of this decline in appropriate opioid prescribing is an observed 50% rise in emergency department visits over the same time period by cancer patients for pain-related reasons.
This makes sense – if patients aren’t routinely prescribed the opioids they need to manage their cancer-related pain; or, if the stigma against using opioids is so harsh that it causes patients to shun opioids; or, if there are so many system barriers in place to prevent patients from obtaining opioids in a timely manner – then patients’ pain will crescendo, leaving them with little alternative but to head to the emergency department.
This undertreatment is corroborated by another study that examined data from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services Part D prescriber database between 2013 and 2017, finding that both oncologists and nononcologists prescribed about 21% fewer opioids to Medicare beneficiaries during that time, compared with the period prior to 2013.
Interestingly, the researchers also found that opioid prescribing by palliative care providers increased by 15% over the same period. On a positive note, this suggests the presence of a growing outpatient palliative care workforce. But it may also reflect growing unease among oncologists with the perceived liability for prescribing opioids and a desire to ask other specialists to take on this liability. At the same time, it may reflect the very real and ever-increasing administrative burden associated with prescribing opioids and the fact that busy oncologists may not have time to spend on this aspect of cancer care. Thus, as palliative care clinicians become more visible and numerous in the outpatient arena, oncologists may increasingly ask palliative care clinicians like myself to take this on.
The problem with this is that merely handing off the administrative burden to another clinician doesn’t address the underlying problem. Anecdotal evidence suggests (and my own experiences corroborate) this administrative burden can cause real harm. A survey of 1,000 physicians conducted by the American Medical Association in 2021 found that 93% of respondents reported a delay in patient care due to prior authorization burden and 34% of respondents reported that their patients had suffered a “serious adverse event” due to prior authorization requirements.
The CDC recently announced it will take steps to revise the 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for chronic pain after hearing from members of the medical community as well as patients living with chronic pain about the harsh, unintended consequences of the guidelines. I can only hope that insurance companies will follow suit, revising their opioid prior authorization requirements to finally come into alignment with the rational, safe use of opioids in patients with advanced cancer. It’s too bad that any improvement in the future will be too late for the millions of patients who have suffered irreversible iatrogenic harms due to delays in achieving adequate pain relief.
Sarah F. D’Ambruoso, NP, is a palliative care nurse practitioner in Santa Monica, Calif.
Pain management is a huge part of how we in palliative care help patients – and most of the time, I think we do it well, but in the regulatory environment of the opioid epidemic,
A patient – let’s call her Joan – calls me in distress. She is a 62-year-old woman with widespread metastatic breast cancer. Her pain is mainly due to bone metastases, but she also has discomfort due to the cancer’s invasion of the thin membranes that line her lungs and abdomen.
She was started on a combination opioid and acetaminophen tablet about 2 months ago by her oncologist, but is now requiring it around the clock, nearing the ceiling dose for this particular medication.
Given that her pain is escalating, Joan and I discuss starting a long-acting opioid to better manage the peak and trough effect of short-acting opioids, which can make a patient feel that the pain is relieved only for a few hours at a time, with sharp spikes throughout the day that mandate the next dose of short-acting opioid. This tethers the patient to the clock, having to take as many as six or eight doses of medication per day, and can be very disruptive to daily life.
I send an e-prescription for the same opioid Joan’s currently taking, but in a long-acting format that will slow-release over 8-10 hours, relieving her of the need to take a medication every 3-4 hours. I have learned over the years that nearly every long-acting opioid automatically generates a prior authorization request from the patient’s insurance company and so I immediately email our prior authorization team to submit to Joan’s insurance right away to avoid this extra delay.
Our prior authorization team is exceptionally responsive and submits these requests with urgency every time – they understand that cancer pain is a serious problem and we can’t wait 5 business days for answers. They are typically able to obtain an approved prior authorization for nearly every long-acting opioid I write within 24-48 hours.
But here’s where things go sideways.
First, the insurance company denies the prior authorization request, demanding that I revise the prescription from the long-acting version of the opioid she is currently taking to a cheaper, older opioid that she’s never tried before. In other words, they won’t cover the drug I requested without Joan first trying a completely different drug and failing it. This only makes sense for the insurance company’s bottom line – it makes no clinical sense at all. Why would I try a novel compound that Joan’s never had and one to which I have no idea how she’ll respond when I could keep her on the same compound knowing that she tolerates it just fine?
Past experience tells me insurance companies rarely budge on this, and appealing the decision would just introduce even more delay of care, so I begrudgingly change the prescription and send it again to the pharmacy. I message Joan to let her know that her insurance won’t cover my drug of choice and that we have to try this older one first.
A few hours later, Joan sends me a message: “My pharmacy says it’s going to take A WEEK to get the long-acting medicine!”
In the meantime, Joan has been using her short-acting opioid faster than anticipated because of her escalating pain – so she’s now running low on that as well.
I write for more of her short-acting opioid and e-script it to her pharmacy.
Within a few hours, we get another automatic response from her insurance that we’re going to need a prior authorization for additional short-acting opioid because she’s exceeded “quantity limitations,” which as far as I can tell is a completely arbitrary number not based on clinical evidence.
The prior auth team jumps on it and submits to override the quantity limit – successfully – and sends the override code to her pharmacy to reprocess the prescription.
But now the pharmacist tells Joan that they won’t fill the Rx anyway because it’s “too early.” They tell her that “state laws” prevent them from filling the scrip.
Is this true? I have no idea. I’m not an expert on California pharmacy law. All I know is that my patient is in pain and something needs to happen quickly.
I write for a second short-acting opioid – again a completely different compound. Ironically, this Rx goes through instantly without need for prior authorization. But now Joan has to switch to another new drug for no good medical reason.
If you’re still with me this far into the weeds, I’m grateful. In all it took a combined 4 hours of work (between myself and the prior auth team) to get two opioid Rx’s filled – and these were completely different medications than the ones I originally wrote for. I also had to move her prescriptions to the hospital’s pharmacy (another inconvenience for Joan and her family) so that she could get the medications in a timely manner. All this work to ensure that a single patient had adequate and timely pain relief and to prevent her from having to make an unnecessary visit to the emergency department for pain crisis.
This is just a regular day in outpatient palliative care in the era of the opioid epidemic.
The epidemic has caused tremendous pain and suffering for millions of people over the past 2 decades – namely those lost to opioid overdoses and their loved ones. And for the most part, tightening access to opioids for routine aches and pains among a relatively healthy population is not wrong, in my opinion, as long as those restrictions are based in good faith on robust evidence.
But the hidden cost of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for nonmalignant pain, as well as the flurry of restrictive state laws they generated, is felt every day by patients with serious illness even though the guidelines were never meant to affect them. Patients with active cancer, receiving palliative care services, or at the end of life, were supposed to be exempted from these guidelines since good evidence supports the use of opioids in these populations.
Instead of preserving access to desperately needed pain medicine for those suffering with serious illness, states and insurers have aggressively sought to gatekeep opioids from everyone, resulting in stigma, delays, and needless suffering.
Several recent studies have revealed the effects of this gatekeeping on patients with cancer.
A qualitative study with 26 advanced cancer patients described the demoralization and stigma many patients felt when taking opioids, which they directly tied to media messaging around the opioid epidemic. Even when they reluctantly agreed to take opioids to treat cancer-related pain, there were systemic impediments to achieving adequate pain relief – similar to my experience with Joan – that were directly caused by insurance and pharmacy constraints.
Those of us who care for oncology patients also appear to be undertreating cancer-related pain. Another recent study that found the amount of opioid medications prescribed to an advanced cancer patient near the end of life dropped by 38% between 2007 and 2017. The authors suggest that a direct consequence of this decline in appropriate opioid prescribing is an observed 50% rise in emergency department visits over the same time period by cancer patients for pain-related reasons.
This makes sense – if patients aren’t routinely prescribed the opioids they need to manage their cancer-related pain; or, if the stigma against using opioids is so harsh that it causes patients to shun opioids; or, if there are so many system barriers in place to prevent patients from obtaining opioids in a timely manner – then patients’ pain will crescendo, leaving them with little alternative but to head to the emergency department.
This undertreatment is corroborated by another study that examined data from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services Part D prescriber database between 2013 and 2017, finding that both oncologists and nononcologists prescribed about 21% fewer opioids to Medicare beneficiaries during that time, compared with the period prior to 2013.
Interestingly, the researchers also found that opioid prescribing by palliative care providers increased by 15% over the same period. On a positive note, this suggests the presence of a growing outpatient palliative care workforce. But it may also reflect growing unease among oncologists with the perceived liability for prescribing opioids and a desire to ask other specialists to take on this liability. At the same time, it may reflect the very real and ever-increasing administrative burden associated with prescribing opioids and the fact that busy oncologists may not have time to spend on this aspect of cancer care. Thus, as palliative care clinicians become more visible and numerous in the outpatient arena, oncologists may increasingly ask palliative care clinicians like myself to take this on.
The problem with this is that merely handing off the administrative burden to another clinician doesn’t address the underlying problem. Anecdotal evidence suggests (and my own experiences corroborate) this administrative burden can cause real harm. A survey of 1,000 physicians conducted by the American Medical Association in 2021 found that 93% of respondents reported a delay in patient care due to prior authorization burden and 34% of respondents reported that their patients had suffered a “serious adverse event” due to prior authorization requirements.
The CDC recently announced it will take steps to revise the 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for chronic pain after hearing from members of the medical community as well as patients living with chronic pain about the harsh, unintended consequences of the guidelines. I can only hope that insurance companies will follow suit, revising their opioid prior authorization requirements to finally come into alignment with the rational, safe use of opioids in patients with advanced cancer. It’s too bad that any improvement in the future will be too late for the millions of patients who have suffered irreversible iatrogenic harms due to delays in achieving adequate pain relief.
Sarah F. D’Ambruoso, NP, is a palliative care nurse practitioner in Santa Monica, Calif.
Pain management is a huge part of how we in palliative care help patients – and most of the time, I think we do it well, but in the regulatory environment of the opioid epidemic,
A patient – let’s call her Joan – calls me in distress. She is a 62-year-old woman with widespread metastatic breast cancer. Her pain is mainly due to bone metastases, but she also has discomfort due to the cancer’s invasion of the thin membranes that line her lungs and abdomen.
She was started on a combination opioid and acetaminophen tablet about 2 months ago by her oncologist, but is now requiring it around the clock, nearing the ceiling dose for this particular medication.
Given that her pain is escalating, Joan and I discuss starting a long-acting opioid to better manage the peak and trough effect of short-acting opioids, which can make a patient feel that the pain is relieved only for a few hours at a time, with sharp spikes throughout the day that mandate the next dose of short-acting opioid. This tethers the patient to the clock, having to take as many as six or eight doses of medication per day, and can be very disruptive to daily life.
I send an e-prescription for the same opioid Joan’s currently taking, but in a long-acting format that will slow-release over 8-10 hours, relieving her of the need to take a medication every 3-4 hours. I have learned over the years that nearly every long-acting opioid automatically generates a prior authorization request from the patient’s insurance company and so I immediately email our prior authorization team to submit to Joan’s insurance right away to avoid this extra delay.
Our prior authorization team is exceptionally responsive and submits these requests with urgency every time – they understand that cancer pain is a serious problem and we can’t wait 5 business days for answers. They are typically able to obtain an approved prior authorization for nearly every long-acting opioid I write within 24-48 hours.
But here’s where things go sideways.
First, the insurance company denies the prior authorization request, demanding that I revise the prescription from the long-acting version of the opioid she is currently taking to a cheaper, older opioid that she’s never tried before. In other words, they won’t cover the drug I requested without Joan first trying a completely different drug and failing it. This only makes sense for the insurance company’s bottom line – it makes no clinical sense at all. Why would I try a novel compound that Joan’s never had and one to which I have no idea how she’ll respond when I could keep her on the same compound knowing that she tolerates it just fine?
Past experience tells me insurance companies rarely budge on this, and appealing the decision would just introduce even more delay of care, so I begrudgingly change the prescription and send it again to the pharmacy. I message Joan to let her know that her insurance won’t cover my drug of choice and that we have to try this older one first.
A few hours later, Joan sends me a message: “My pharmacy says it’s going to take A WEEK to get the long-acting medicine!”
In the meantime, Joan has been using her short-acting opioid faster than anticipated because of her escalating pain – so she’s now running low on that as well.
I write for more of her short-acting opioid and e-script it to her pharmacy.
Within a few hours, we get another automatic response from her insurance that we’re going to need a prior authorization for additional short-acting opioid because she’s exceeded “quantity limitations,” which as far as I can tell is a completely arbitrary number not based on clinical evidence.
The prior auth team jumps on it and submits to override the quantity limit – successfully – and sends the override code to her pharmacy to reprocess the prescription.
But now the pharmacist tells Joan that they won’t fill the Rx anyway because it’s “too early.” They tell her that “state laws” prevent them from filling the scrip.
Is this true? I have no idea. I’m not an expert on California pharmacy law. All I know is that my patient is in pain and something needs to happen quickly.
I write for a second short-acting opioid – again a completely different compound. Ironically, this Rx goes through instantly without need for prior authorization. But now Joan has to switch to another new drug for no good medical reason.
If you’re still with me this far into the weeds, I’m grateful. In all it took a combined 4 hours of work (between myself and the prior auth team) to get two opioid Rx’s filled – and these were completely different medications than the ones I originally wrote for. I also had to move her prescriptions to the hospital’s pharmacy (another inconvenience for Joan and her family) so that she could get the medications in a timely manner. All this work to ensure that a single patient had adequate and timely pain relief and to prevent her from having to make an unnecessary visit to the emergency department for pain crisis.
This is just a regular day in outpatient palliative care in the era of the opioid epidemic.
The epidemic has caused tremendous pain and suffering for millions of people over the past 2 decades – namely those lost to opioid overdoses and their loved ones. And for the most part, tightening access to opioids for routine aches and pains among a relatively healthy population is not wrong, in my opinion, as long as those restrictions are based in good faith on robust evidence.
But the hidden cost of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for nonmalignant pain, as well as the flurry of restrictive state laws they generated, is felt every day by patients with serious illness even though the guidelines were never meant to affect them. Patients with active cancer, receiving palliative care services, or at the end of life, were supposed to be exempted from these guidelines since good evidence supports the use of opioids in these populations.
Instead of preserving access to desperately needed pain medicine for those suffering with serious illness, states and insurers have aggressively sought to gatekeep opioids from everyone, resulting in stigma, delays, and needless suffering.
Several recent studies have revealed the effects of this gatekeeping on patients with cancer.
A qualitative study with 26 advanced cancer patients described the demoralization and stigma many patients felt when taking opioids, which they directly tied to media messaging around the opioid epidemic. Even when they reluctantly agreed to take opioids to treat cancer-related pain, there were systemic impediments to achieving adequate pain relief – similar to my experience with Joan – that were directly caused by insurance and pharmacy constraints.
Those of us who care for oncology patients also appear to be undertreating cancer-related pain. Another recent study that found the amount of opioid medications prescribed to an advanced cancer patient near the end of life dropped by 38% between 2007 and 2017. The authors suggest that a direct consequence of this decline in appropriate opioid prescribing is an observed 50% rise in emergency department visits over the same time period by cancer patients for pain-related reasons.
This makes sense – if patients aren’t routinely prescribed the opioids they need to manage their cancer-related pain; or, if the stigma against using opioids is so harsh that it causes patients to shun opioids; or, if there are so many system barriers in place to prevent patients from obtaining opioids in a timely manner – then patients’ pain will crescendo, leaving them with little alternative but to head to the emergency department.
This undertreatment is corroborated by another study that examined data from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services Part D prescriber database between 2013 and 2017, finding that both oncologists and nononcologists prescribed about 21% fewer opioids to Medicare beneficiaries during that time, compared with the period prior to 2013.
Interestingly, the researchers also found that opioid prescribing by palliative care providers increased by 15% over the same period. On a positive note, this suggests the presence of a growing outpatient palliative care workforce. But it may also reflect growing unease among oncologists with the perceived liability for prescribing opioids and a desire to ask other specialists to take on this liability. At the same time, it may reflect the very real and ever-increasing administrative burden associated with prescribing opioids and the fact that busy oncologists may not have time to spend on this aspect of cancer care. Thus, as palliative care clinicians become more visible and numerous in the outpatient arena, oncologists may increasingly ask palliative care clinicians like myself to take this on.
The problem with this is that merely handing off the administrative burden to another clinician doesn’t address the underlying problem. Anecdotal evidence suggests (and my own experiences corroborate) this administrative burden can cause real harm. A survey of 1,000 physicians conducted by the American Medical Association in 2021 found that 93% of respondents reported a delay in patient care due to prior authorization burden and 34% of respondents reported that their patients had suffered a “serious adverse event” due to prior authorization requirements.
The CDC recently announced it will take steps to revise the 2016 opioid prescribing guidelines for chronic pain after hearing from members of the medical community as well as patients living with chronic pain about the harsh, unintended consequences of the guidelines. I can only hope that insurance companies will follow suit, revising their opioid prior authorization requirements to finally come into alignment with the rational, safe use of opioids in patients with advanced cancer. It’s too bad that any improvement in the future will be too late for the millions of patients who have suffered irreversible iatrogenic harms due to delays in achieving adequate pain relief.
Sarah F. D’Ambruoso, NP, is a palliative care nurse practitioner in Santa Monica, Calif.
“I didn’t want to meet you.” Dispelling myths about palliative care
The names of health care professionals and patients cited within the dialogue text have been changed to protect their privacy.
but over the years I have come to realize that she was right – most people, including many within health care, don’t have a good appreciation of what palliative care is or how it can help patients and health care teams.
A recent national survey about cancer-related health information found that of more than 1,000 surveyed Americans, less than 30% professed any knowledge of palliative care. Of those who had some knowledge of palliative care, around 30% believed palliative care was synonymous with hospice.1 Another 15% believed that a patient would have to give up cancer-directed treatments to receive palliative care.1
It’s not giving up
This persistent belief that palliative care is equivalent to hospice, or is tantamount to “giving up,” is one of the most commonly held myths I encounter in everyday practice.
I knock on the exam door and walk in.
A small, trim woman in her late 50s is sitting in a chair, arms folded across her chest, face drawn in.
“Hi,” I start. “I’m Sarah, the palliative care nurse practitioner who works in this clinic. I work closely with Dr. Smith.”
Dr. Smith is the patient’s oncologist.
“I really didn’t want to meet you,” she says in a quiet voice, her eyes large with concern.
I don’t take it personally. Few patients really want to be in the position of needing to meet the palliative care team.
“I looked up palliative care on Google and saw the word hospice.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I hear that a lot. Well, I can reassure you that this isn’t hospice.
In this clinic, our focus is on your cancer symptoms, your treatment side effects, and your quality of life.”
She looks visibly relieved. “Quality of life,” she echoes. “I need more of that.”
“OK,” I say. “So, tell me what you’re struggling with the most right now.”
That’s how many palliative care visits start. I actually prefer if patients haven’t heard of palliative care because it allows me to frame it for them, rather than having to start by addressing a myth or a prior negative experience. Even when patients haven’t had a negative experience with palliative care per se, typically, if they’ve interacted with palliative care in the past, it’s usually because someone they loved died in a hospital setting and it is the memory of that terrible loss that becomes synonymous with their recollection of palliative care.
Many patients I meet have never seen another outpatient palliative care practitioner – and this makes sense – we are still too few and far between. Most established palliative care teams are hospital based and many patients seen in the community do not have easy access to palliative care teams where they receive oncologic care.2 As an embedded practitioner, I see patients in the same exam rooms and infusion centers where they receive their cancer therapies, so I’m effectively woven into the fabric of their oncology experience. Just being there in the cancer center allows me to be in the right place at the right time for the right patients and their care teams.
More than pain management
Another myth I tend to dispel a lot is that palliative care is just a euphemism for “pain management.” I have seen this less lately, but still occasionally in the chart I’ll see documented in a note, “patient is seeing palliative/pain management,” when a patient is seeing me or one of my colleagues. Unfortunately, when providers have limited or outdated views of what palliative care is or the value it brings to patient-centered cancer care, referrals to palliative care tend to be delayed.3
“I really think Ms. Lopez could benefit from seeing palliative care,” an oncology nurse practitioner says to an oncologist.
I’m standing nearby, about to see another patient in one of the exam rooms in our clinic.
“But I don’t think she’s ready. And besides, she doesn’t have any pain,” he says.
He turns to me quizzically. “What do you think?”
“Tell me about the patient,” I ask, taking a few steps in their direction.
“Well, she’s a 64-year-old woman with metastatic cancer.
She has a really poor appetite and is losing some weight.
Seems a bit down, kind of pessimistic about things.
Her scan showed some new growth, so guess I’m not surprised by that.”
“I might be able to help her with the appetite and the mood changes.
I can at least talk with her and see where she’s at,” I offer.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll put the palliative referral in.”
He hesitates. “But are you sure you want to see her?
She doesn’t have any pain.” He sounds skeptical.
“Yeah, I mean, it sounds like she has symptoms that are bothering her, so I’d be happy to see her. She sounds completely appropriate for palliative care.”
I hear this assumption a lot – that palliative care is somehow equivalent to pain management and that unless a patient’s pain is severe, it’s not worth referring the patient to palliative care. Don’t get me wrong – we do a lot of pain management, but at its heart, palliative care is an interdisciplinary specialty focused on improving or maintaining quality of life for people with serious illness. Because the goal is so broad, care can take many shapes.4
In addition to pain, palliative care clinicians commonly treat nausea, shortness of breath, constipation or diarrhea, poor appetite, fatigue, anxiety, depression, and insomnia.
Palliative care is more than medical or nursing care
A related misconception about palliative care held by many lay people and health care workers alike is that palliative care is primarily medical or nursing care focused mostly on alleviating physical symptoms such as pain or nausea. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
We’ve been talking for a while.
Ms. Lopez tells me about her struggles to maintain her weight while undergoing chemotherapy. She has low-grade nausea that is impacting her ability and desire to eat more and didn’t think that her weight loss was severe enough to warrant taking medication.
We talk about how she may be able to use antinausea medication sparingly to alleviate nausea while also limiting side effects from the medications—which was a big concern for her.
I ask her what else is bothering her.
She tells me that she has always been a strong Catholic and even when life has gotten tough, her faith was never shaken – until now.
She is struggling to understand why she ended up with metastatic cancer at such a relatively young age—why would God do this to her?
She had plans for retirement that have since evaporated in the face of a foreshortened life.
Why did this happen to her of all people? She was completely healthy until her diagnosis.
Her face is wet with tears.
We talk a little about how a diagnosis like this can change so much of a person’s life and identity. I try to validate her experience. She’s clearly suffering from a sense that her life is not what she expected, and she is struggling to integrate how her future looks at this point.
I ask her what conversations with her priest have been like.
At this point you may be wondering where this conversation is going. Why are we talking about Ms. Lopez’s religion? Palliative care is best delivered through high functioning interdisciplinary teams that can include other supportive people in a patient’s life. We work in concert to try to bring comfort to a patient and their family.4 That support network can include nurses, physicians, social workers, and chaplains. In this case, Ms. Lopez had not yet reached out to her priest. She hasn’t had the time or energy to contact her priest given her symptoms.
“Can I contact your priest for you?
Maybe he can visit or call and chat with you?”
She nods and wipes tears away.
“That would be really nice,” she says. “I’d love it if he could pray with me.”
A few hours after the visit, I call Ms. Lopez’s priest.
I ask him to reach out to her and about her request for prayer.
He says he’s been thinking about her and that her presence has been missed at weekly Mass. He thanks me for the call and says he’ll call her tomorrow.
I say my own small prayer for Ms. Lopez and head home, the day’s work completed.
Sarah D'Ambruoso was born and raised in Maine. She completed her undergraduate and graduate nursing education at New York University and UCLA, respectively, and currently works as a palliative care nurse practitioner in an oncology clinic in Los Angeles.
References
1. Cheng BT et al. Patterns of palliative care beliefs among adults in the U.S.: Analysis of a National Cancer Database. J Pain Symptom Manage. 2019 Aug 10. doi: 10.1016/j.jpainsymman.2019.07.030.
2. Finlay E et al. Filling the gap: Creating an outpatient palliative care program in your institution. Am Soc Clin Oncol Educ Book. 2018 May 23. doi: 10.1200/EDBK_200775.
3. Von Roenn JH et al. Barriers and approaches to the successful integration of palliative care and oncology practice. J Natl Compr Canc Netw. 2013 Mar. doi: 10.6004/jnccn.2013.0209.
4. Ferrell BR et al. Integration of palliative care into standard oncology care: American Society of Clinical Oncology Clinical Practice Guideline Update. J Clin Oncol. 2016 Oct 31. doi: 10.1200/JCO.2016.70.1474.
The names of health care professionals and patients cited within the dialogue text have been changed to protect their privacy.
but over the years I have come to realize that she was right – most people, including many within health care, don’t have a good appreciation of what palliative care is or how it can help patients and health care teams.
A recent national survey about cancer-related health information found that of more than 1,000 surveyed Americans, less than 30% professed any knowledge of palliative care. Of those who had some knowledge of palliative care, around 30% believed palliative care was synonymous with hospice.1 Another 15% believed that a patient would have to give up cancer-directed treatments to receive palliative care.1
It’s not giving up
This persistent belief that palliative care is equivalent to hospice, or is tantamount to “giving up,” is one of the most commonly held myths I encounter in everyday practice.
I knock on the exam door and walk in.
A small, trim woman in her late 50s is sitting in a chair, arms folded across her chest, face drawn in.
“Hi,” I start. “I’m Sarah, the palliative care nurse practitioner who works in this clinic. I work closely with Dr. Smith.”
Dr. Smith is the patient’s oncologist.
“I really didn’t want to meet you,” she says in a quiet voice, her eyes large with concern.
I don’t take it personally. Few patients really want to be in the position of needing to meet the palliative care team.
“I looked up palliative care on Google and saw the word hospice.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I hear that a lot. Well, I can reassure you that this isn’t hospice.
In this clinic, our focus is on your cancer symptoms, your treatment side effects, and your quality of life.”
She looks visibly relieved. “Quality of life,” she echoes. “I need more of that.”
“OK,” I say. “So, tell me what you’re struggling with the most right now.”
That’s how many palliative care visits start. I actually prefer if patients haven’t heard of palliative care because it allows me to frame it for them, rather than having to start by addressing a myth or a prior negative experience. Even when patients haven’t had a negative experience with palliative care per se, typically, if they’ve interacted with palliative care in the past, it’s usually because someone they loved died in a hospital setting and it is the memory of that terrible loss that becomes synonymous with their recollection of palliative care.
Many patients I meet have never seen another outpatient palliative care practitioner – and this makes sense – we are still too few and far between. Most established palliative care teams are hospital based and many patients seen in the community do not have easy access to palliative care teams where they receive oncologic care.2 As an embedded practitioner, I see patients in the same exam rooms and infusion centers where they receive their cancer therapies, so I’m effectively woven into the fabric of their oncology experience. Just being there in the cancer center allows me to be in the right place at the right time for the right patients and their care teams.
More than pain management
Another myth I tend to dispel a lot is that palliative care is just a euphemism for “pain management.” I have seen this less lately, but still occasionally in the chart I’ll see documented in a note, “patient is seeing palliative/pain management,” when a patient is seeing me or one of my colleagues. Unfortunately, when providers have limited or outdated views of what palliative care is or the value it brings to patient-centered cancer care, referrals to palliative care tend to be delayed.3
“I really think Ms. Lopez could benefit from seeing palliative care,” an oncology nurse practitioner says to an oncologist.
I’m standing nearby, about to see another patient in one of the exam rooms in our clinic.
“But I don’t think she’s ready. And besides, she doesn’t have any pain,” he says.
He turns to me quizzically. “What do you think?”
“Tell me about the patient,” I ask, taking a few steps in their direction.
“Well, she’s a 64-year-old woman with metastatic cancer.
She has a really poor appetite and is losing some weight.
Seems a bit down, kind of pessimistic about things.
Her scan showed some new growth, so guess I’m not surprised by that.”
“I might be able to help her with the appetite and the mood changes.
I can at least talk with her and see where she’s at,” I offer.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll put the palliative referral in.”
He hesitates. “But are you sure you want to see her?
She doesn’t have any pain.” He sounds skeptical.
“Yeah, I mean, it sounds like she has symptoms that are bothering her, so I’d be happy to see her. She sounds completely appropriate for palliative care.”
I hear this assumption a lot – that palliative care is somehow equivalent to pain management and that unless a patient’s pain is severe, it’s not worth referring the patient to palliative care. Don’t get me wrong – we do a lot of pain management, but at its heart, palliative care is an interdisciplinary specialty focused on improving or maintaining quality of life for people with serious illness. Because the goal is so broad, care can take many shapes.4
In addition to pain, palliative care clinicians commonly treat nausea, shortness of breath, constipation or diarrhea, poor appetite, fatigue, anxiety, depression, and insomnia.
Palliative care is more than medical or nursing care
A related misconception about palliative care held by many lay people and health care workers alike is that palliative care is primarily medical or nursing care focused mostly on alleviating physical symptoms such as pain or nausea. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
We’ve been talking for a while.
Ms. Lopez tells me about her struggles to maintain her weight while undergoing chemotherapy. She has low-grade nausea that is impacting her ability and desire to eat more and didn’t think that her weight loss was severe enough to warrant taking medication.
We talk about how she may be able to use antinausea medication sparingly to alleviate nausea while also limiting side effects from the medications—which was a big concern for her.
I ask her what else is bothering her.
She tells me that she has always been a strong Catholic and even when life has gotten tough, her faith was never shaken – until now.
She is struggling to understand why she ended up with metastatic cancer at such a relatively young age—why would God do this to her?
She had plans for retirement that have since evaporated in the face of a foreshortened life.
Why did this happen to her of all people? She was completely healthy until her diagnosis.
Her face is wet with tears.
We talk a little about how a diagnosis like this can change so much of a person’s life and identity. I try to validate her experience. She’s clearly suffering from a sense that her life is not what she expected, and she is struggling to integrate how her future looks at this point.
I ask her what conversations with her priest have been like.
At this point you may be wondering where this conversation is going. Why are we talking about Ms. Lopez’s religion? Palliative care is best delivered through high functioning interdisciplinary teams that can include other supportive people in a patient’s life. We work in concert to try to bring comfort to a patient and their family.4 That support network can include nurses, physicians, social workers, and chaplains. In this case, Ms. Lopez had not yet reached out to her priest. She hasn’t had the time or energy to contact her priest given her symptoms.
“Can I contact your priest for you?
Maybe he can visit or call and chat with you?”
She nods and wipes tears away.
“That would be really nice,” she says. “I’d love it if he could pray with me.”
A few hours after the visit, I call Ms. Lopez’s priest.
I ask him to reach out to her and about her request for prayer.
He says he’s been thinking about her and that her presence has been missed at weekly Mass. He thanks me for the call and says he’ll call her tomorrow.
I say my own small prayer for Ms. Lopez and head home, the day’s work completed.
Sarah D'Ambruoso was born and raised in Maine. She completed her undergraduate and graduate nursing education at New York University and UCLA, respectively, and currently works as a palliative care nurse practitioner in an oncology clinic in Los Angeles.
References
1. Cheng BT et al. Patterns of palliative care beliefs among adults in the U.S.: Analysis of a National Cancer Database. J Pain Symptom Manage. 2019 Aug 10. doi: 10.1016/j.jpainsymman.2019.07.030.
2. Finlay E et al. Filling the gap: Creating an outpatient palliative care program in your institution. Am Soc Clin Oncol Educ Book. 2018 May 23. doi: 10.1200/EDBK_200775.
3. Von Roenn JH et al. Barriers and approaches to the successful integration of palliative care and oncology practice. J Natl Compr Canc Netw. 2013 Mar. doi: 10.6004/jnccn.2013.0209.
4. Ferrell BR et al. Integration of palliative care into standard oncology care: American Society of Clinical Oncology Clinical Practice Guideline Update. J Clin Oncol. 2016 Oct 31. doi: 10.1200/JCO.2016.70.1474.
The names of health care professionals and patients cited within the dialogue text have been changed to protect their privacy.
but over the years I have come to realize that she was right – most people, including many within health care, don’t have a good appreciation of what palliative care is or how it can help patients and health care teams.
A recent national survey about cancer-related health information found that of more than 1,000 surveyed Americans, less than 30% professed any knowledge of palliative care. Of those who had some knowledge of palliative care, around 30% believed palliative care was synonymous with hospice.1 Another 15% believed that a patient would have to give up cancer-directed treatments to receive palliative care.1
It’s not giving up
This persistent belief that palliative care is equivalent to hospice, or is tantamount to “giving up,” is one of the most commonly held myths I encounter in everyday practice.
I knock on the exam door and walk in.
A small, trim woman in her late 50s is sitting in a chair, arms folded across her chest, face drawn in.
“Hi,” I start. “I’m Sarah, the palliative care nurse practitioner who works in this clinic. I work closely with Dr. Smith.”
Dr. Smith is the patient’s oncologist.
“I really didn’t want to meet you,” she says in a quiet voice, her eyes large with concern.
I don’t take it personally. Few patients really want to be in the position of needing to meet the palliative care team.
“I looked up palliative care on Google and saw the word hospice.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I hear that a lot. Well, I can reassure you that this isn’t hospice.
In this clinic, our focus is on your cancer symptoms, your treatment side effects, and your quality of life.”
She looks visibly relieved. “Quality of life,” she echoes. “I need more of that.”
“OK,” I say. “So, tell me what you’re struggling with the most right now.”
That’s how many palliative care visits start. I actually prefer if patients haven’t heard of palliative care because it allows me to frame it for them, rather than having to start by addressing a myth or a prior negative experience. Even when patients haven’t had a negative experience with palliative care per se, typically, if they’ve interacted with palliative care in the past, it’s usually because someone they loved died in a hospital setting and it is the memory of that terrible loss that becomes synonymous with their recollection of palliative care.
Many patients I meet have never seen another outpatient palliative care practitioner – and this makes sense – we are still too few and far between. Most established palliative care teams are hospital based and many patients seen in the community do not have easy access to palliative care teams where they receive oncologic care.2 As an embedded practitioner, I see patients in the same exam rooms and infusion centers where they receive their cancer therapies, so I’m effectively woven into the fabric of their oncology experience. Just being there in the cancer center allows me to be in the right place at the right time for the right patients and their care teams.
More than pain management
Another myth I tend to dispel a lot is that palliative care is just a euphemism for “pain management.” I have seen this less lately, but still occasionally in the chart I’ll see documented in a note, “patient is seeing palliative/pain management,” when a patient is seeing me or one of my colleagues. Unfortunately, when providers have limited or outdated views of what palliative care is or the value it brings to patient-centered cancer care, referrals to palliative care tend to be delayed.3
“I really think Ms. Lopez could benefit from seeing palliative care,” an oncology nurse practitioner says to an oncologist.
I’m standing nearby, about to see another patient in one of the exam rooms in our clinic.
“But I don’t think she’s ready. And besides, she doesn’t have any pain,” he says.
He turns to me quizzically. “What do you think?”
“Tell me about the patient,” I ask, taking a few steps in their direction.
“Well, she’s a 64-year-old woman with metastatic cancer.
She has a really poor appetite and is losing some weight.
Seems a bit down, kind of pessimistic about things.
Her scan showed some new growth, so guess I’m not surprised by that.”
“I might be able to help her with the appetite and the mood changes.
I can at least talk with her and see where she’s at,” I offer.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll put the palliative referral in.”
He hesitates. “But are you sure you want to see her?
She doesn’t have any pain.” He sounds skeptical.
“Yeah, I mean, it sounds like she has symptoms that are bothering her, so I’d be happy to see her. She sounds completely appropriate for palliative care.”
I hear this assumption a lot – that palliative care is somehow equivalent to pain management and that unless a patient’s pain is severe, it’s not worth referring the patient to palliative care. Don’t get me wrong – we do a lot of pain management, but at its heart, palliative care is an interdisciplinary specialty focused on improving or maintaining quality of life for people with serious illness. Because the goal is so broad, care can take many shapes.4
In addition to pain, palliative care clinicians commonly treat nausea, shortness of breath, constipation or diarrhea, poor appetite, fatigue, anxiety, depression, and insomnia.
Palliative care is more than medical or nursing care
A related misconception about palliative care held by many lay people and health care workers alike is that palliative care is primarily medical or nursing care focused mostly on alleviating physical symptoms such as pain or nausea. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
We’ve been talking for a while.
Ms. Lopez tells me about her struggles to maintain her weight while undergoing chemotherapy. She has low-grade nausea that is impacting her ability and desire to eat more and didn’t think that her weight loss was severe enough to warrant taking medication.
We talk about how she may be able to use antinausea medication sparingly to alleviate nausea while also limiting side effects from the medications—which was a big concern for her.
I ask her what else is bothering her.
She tells me that she has always been a strong Catholic and even when life has gotten tough, her faith was never shaken – until now.
She is struggling to understand why she ended up with metastatic cancer at such a relatively young age—why would God do this to her?
She had plans for retirement that have since evaporated in the face of a foreshortened life.
Why did this happen to her of all people? She was completely healthy until her diagnosis.
Her face is wet with tears.
We talk a little about how a diagnosis like this can change so much of a person’s life and identity. I try to validate her experience. She’s clearly suffering from a sense that her life is not what she expected, and she is struggling to integrate how her future looks at this point.
I ask her what conversations with her priest have been like.
At this point you may be wondering where this conversation is going. Why are we talking about Ms. Lopez’s religion? Palliative care is best delivered through high functioning interdisciplinary teams that can include other supportive people in a patient’s life. We work in concert to try to bring comfort to a patient and their family.4 That support network can include nurses, physicians, social workers, and chaplains. In this case, Ms. Lopez had not yet reached out to her priest. She hasn’t had the time or energy to contact her priest given her symptoms.
“Can I contact your priest for you?
Maybe he can visit or call and chat with you?”
She nods and wipes tears away.
“That would be really nice,” she says. “I’d love it if he could pray with me.”
A few hours after the visit, I call Ms. Lopez’s priest.
I ask him to reach out to her and about her request for prayer.
He says he’s been thinking about her and that her presence has been missed at weekly Mass. He thanks me for the call and says he’ll call her tomorrow.
I say my own small prayer for Ms. Lopez and head home, the day’s work completed.
Sarah D'Ambruoso was born and raised in Maine. She completed her undergraduate and graduate nursing education at New York University and UCLA, respectively, and currently works as a palliative care nurse practitioner in an oncology clinic in Los Angeles.
References
1. Cheng BT et al. Patterns of palliative care beliefs among adults in the U.S.: Analysis of a National Cancer Database. J Pain Symptom Manage. 2019 Aug 10. doi: 10.1016/j.jpainsymman.2019.07.030.
2. Finlay E et al. Filling the gap: Creating an outpatient palliative care program in your institution. Am Soc Clin Oncol Educ Book. 2018 May 23. doi: 10.1200/EDBK_200775.
3. Von Roenn JH et al. Barriers and approaches to the successful integration of palliative care and oncology practice. J Natl Compr Canc Netw. 2013 Mar. doi: 10.6004/jnccn.2013.0209.
4. Ferrell BR et al. Integration of palliative care into standard oncology care: American Society of Clinical Oncology Clinical Practice Guideline Update. J Clin Oncol. 2016 Oct 31. doi: 10.1200/JCO.2016.70.1474.