Richard M. Plotzker, MD

Internal medicine primarily affords us the skill to cope with disorders of chronicity that rarely disappear. For every pneumococcal pneumonia we eradicate, we have multiple patients with HIV who will be treated indefinitely. Diabetes, once a lethal disease, is now a chronic condition for most patients, and even with treatment the trajectory is usually one of progression.

One gratifying exception in my professional lifetime has been the introduction of gastric surgeries that reduce morbidity and seem to extend the life span of those who successfully undergo these procedures. The Roux-en-Y gastric bypass and sleeve gastrectomy have kept thousands of patients in better health for many years, giving them a second chance. For a subset, however, this second chance comes with a stumbling block of substance use – most notably alcohol – that exceeds their preoperative use.
 

Increased alcohol use after surgery

A group affiliated with the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) recently reviewed the large central database to identify changes in alcohol consumption among patients who had undergone successful bariatric surgery. The VA regularly administers the Alcohol Use Disorders Identification Test-Consumption (AUDIT-C), a survey validated as a reliable estimate of individual alcohol consumption. It is inserted into the VA electronic health record where it can be readily retrieved. By matching these survey results with individuals who underwent bariatric surgery at the VA and survived at least 8 years post op, the authors were able to follow trends in alcohol consumption, beginning 2 years before surgery through 8 years after.

Using the same database, the authors identified a larger number of nonoperative control patients with slightly less obesity but otherwise matched for several elements of comorbidity, such as hypertension, certain psychiatric disorders, and personal habits, including alcohol consumption.

Alcohol use was categorized as none, minor social use, and “unhealthy” use. Among those with no or minor social use preoperatively, 4% converted to unhealthy use at 3 years and about 5% at 8 years, significantly more than in the nonoperative control group. Those who had gastric bypass had somewhat more conversion than did those who had sleeve gastrectomy, though not significantly so.

Patients with an alcohol concern preoperatively took an interesting course. Consumption declined from 2 years pre op to the year of surgery, suggesting that curtailing its use may have been a surgical precondition. Postoperatively, they returned to unhealthy drinking levels. Those who underwent the sleeve gastrectomy consumed about the same amount of alcohol as did their matched nonoperative controls, but those who underwent bypass increased their baseline unhealthy use beyond that of the controls.

Because total abstinence is often the recommendation for treating alcoholism, the research group assessed how adherent the excessive drinkers were to abstinence. In anticipation of surgery, the rates of abstinence increased until the year of surgery, but by 3 years post op, consumption was often up to unhealthy levels, though no more than that of control participants with preexisting drinking problems.
 

Smoking and illicit drug use

Although increased alcohol consumption has generated the most studies, some attention has been given to smoking and illicit drug use, which may also increase over time.

One small study looked at composite tobacco, alcohol, and drug use pre- and postoperatively over 2 years, using population data. The authors found a parallel pattern of users voluntarily reducing their substance use in anticipation of surgery but relapsing as the procedure made them more functional and perhaps more independent. Of the substances people resumed, alcohol by far involved the largest increase in use from the preoperative baseline.

These studies, as important as they are, reveal what happened more effectively than they disclose why it happened. The latter requires some clinical experience. Curtailing cigarettes and alcohol use preoperatively may have been done to stay in the good graces of the surgeon. Many patients may have seen this as their path to a second chance that they intended to maintain.

The incentive to proceed to surgical weight loss, which incurs a measure of risk and forces changes in long ingrained eating habits, involves avoiding future morbidity and promoting longevity. Thus, the postoperative behaviors that threaten the long-term goal need to become a component of ongoing follow-up.

The acquisition of adverse behaviors not present preoperatively seems more difficult to sort out, and obligates those of us following these patients to ask about changes in alcohol use and provide resources for them should they need intervention.

Dr. Plotzker is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both private practice and hospital settings.

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

Internal medicine primarily affords us the skill to cope with disorders of chronicity that rarely disappear. For every pneumococcal pneumonia we eradicate, we have multiple patients with HIV who will be treated indefinitely. Diabetes, once a lethal disease, is now a chronic condition for most patients, and even with treatment the trajectory is usually one of progression.

One gratifying exception in my professional lifetime has been the introduction of gastric surgeries that reduce morbidity and seem to extend the life span of those who successfully undergo these procedures. The Roux-en-Y gastric bypass and sleeve gastrectomy have kept thousands of patients in better health for many years, giving them a second chance. For a subset, however, this second chance comes with a stumbling block of substance use – most notably alcohol – that exceeds their preoperative use.
 

Increased alcohol use after surgery

A group affiliated with the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) recently reviewed the large central database to identify changes in alcohol consumption among patients who had undergone successful bariatric surgery. The VA regularly administers the Alcohol Use Disorders Identification Test-Consumption (AUDIT-C), a survey validated as a reliable estimate of individual alcohol consumption. It is inserted into the VA electronic health record where it can be readily retrieved. By matching these survey results with individuals who underwent bariatric surgery at the VA and survived at least 8 years post op, the authors were able to follow trends in alcohol consumption, beginning 2 years before surgery through 8 years after.

Using the same database, the authors identified a larger number of nonoperative control patients with slightly less obesity but otherwise matched for several elements of comorbidity, such as hypertension, certain psychiatric disorders, and personal habits, including alcohol consumption.

Alcohol use was categorized as none, minor social use, and “unhealthy” use. Among those with no or minor social use preoperatively, 4% converted to unhealthy use at 3 years and about 5% at 8 years, significantly more than in the nonoperative control group. Those who had gastric bypass had somewhat more conversion than did those who had sleeve gastrectomy, though not significantly so.

Patients with an alcohol concern preoperatively took an interesting course. Consumption declined from 2 years pre op to the year of surgery, suggesting that curtailing its use may have been a surgical precondition. Postoperatively, they returned to unhealthy drinking levels. Those who underwent the sleeve gastrectomy consumed about the same amount of alcohol as did their matched nonoperative controls, but those who underwent bypass increased their baseline unhealthy use beyond that of the controls.

Because total abstinence is often the recommendation for treating alcoholism, the research group assessed how adherent the excessive drinkers were to abstinence. In anticipation of surgery, the rates of abstinence increased until the year of surgery, but by 3 years post op, consumption was often up to unhealthy levels, though no more than that of control participants with preexisting drinking problems.
 

Smoking and illicit drug use

Although increased alcohol consumption has generated the most studies, some attention has been given to smoking and illicit drug use, which may also increase over time.

One small study looked at composite tobacco, alcohol, and drug use pre- and postoperatively over 2 years, using population data. The authors found a parallel pattern of users voluntarily reducing their substance use in anticipation of surgery but relapsing as the procedure made them more functional and perhaps more independent. Of the substances people resumed, alcohol by far involved the largest increase in use from the preoperative baseline.

These studies, as important as they are, reveal what happened more effectively than they disclose why it happened. The latter requires some clinical experience. Curtailing cigarettes and alcohol use preoperatively may have been done to stay in the good graces of the surgeon. Many patients may have seen this as their path to a second chance that they intended to maintain.

The incentive to proceed to surgical weight loss, which incurs a measure of risk and forces changes in long ingrained eating habits, involves avoiding future morbidity and promoting longevity. Thus, the postoperative behaviors that threaten the long-term goal need to become a component of ongoing follow-up.

The acquisition of adverse behaviors not present preoperatively seems more difficult to sort out, and obligates those of us following these patients to ask about changes in alcohol use and provide resources for them should they need intervention.

Dr. Plotzker is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both private practice and hospital settings.

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

Internal medicine primarily affords us the skill to cope with disorders of chronicity that rarely disappear. For every pneumococcal pneumonia we eradicate, we have multiple patients with HIV who will be treated indefinitely. Diabetes, once a lethal disease, is now a chronic condition for most patients, and even with treatment the trajectory is usually one of progression.

One gratifying exception in my professional lifetime has been the introduction of gastric surgeries that reduce morbidity and seem to extend the life span of those who successfully undergo these procedures. The Roux-en-Y gastric bypass and sleeve gastrectomy have kept thousands of patients in better health for many years, giving them a second chance. For a subset, however, this second chance comes with a stumbling block of substance use – most notably alcohol – that exceeds their preoperative use.
 

Increased alcohol use after surgery

A group affiliated with the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) recently reviewed the large central database to identify changes in alcohol consumption among patients who had undergone successful bariatric surgery. The VA regularly administers the Alcohol Use Disorders Identification Test-Consumption (AUDIT-C), a survey validated as a reliable estimate of individual alcohol consumption. It is inserted into the VA electronic health record where it can be readily retrieved. By matching these survey results with individuals who underwent bariatric surgery at the VA and survived at least 8 years post op, the authors were able to follow trends in alcohol consumption, beginning 2 years before surgery through 8 years after.

Using the same database, the authors identified a larger number of nonoperative control patients with slightly less obesity but otherwise matched for several elements of comorbidity, such as hypertension, certain psychiatric disorders, and personal habits, including alcohol consumption.

Alcohol use was categorized as none, minor social use, and “unhealthy” use. Among those with no or minor social use preoperatively, 4% converted to unhealthy use at 3 years and about 5% at 8 years, significantly more than in the nonoperative control group. Those who had gastric bypass had somewhat more conversion than did those who had sleeve gastrectomy, though not significantly so.

Patients with an alcohol concern preoperatively took an interesting course. Consumption declined from 2 years pre op to the year of surgery, suggesting that curtailing its use may have been a surgical precondition. Postoperatively, they returned to unhealthy drinking levels. Those who underwent the sleeve gastrectomy consumed about the same amount of alcohol as did their matched nonoperative controls, but those who underwent bypass increased their baseline unhealthy use beyond that of the controls.

Because total abstinence is often the recommendation for treating alcoholism, the research group assessed how adherent the excessive drinkers were to abstinence. In anticipation of surgery, the rates of abstinence increased until the year of surgery, but by 3 years post op, consumption was often up to unhealthy levels, though no more than that of control participants with preexisting drinking problems.
 

Smoking and illicit drug use

Although increased alcohol consumption has generated the most studies, some attention has been given to smoking and illicit drug use, which may also increase over time.

One small study looked at composite tobacco, alcohol, and drug use pre- and postoperatively over 2 years, using population data. The authors found a parallel pattern of users voluntarily reducing their substance use in anticipation of surgery but relapsing as the procedure made them more functional and perhaps more independent. Of the substances people resumed, alcohol by far involved the largest increase in use from the preoperative baseline.

These studies, as important as they are, reveal what happened more effectively than they disclose why it happened. The latter requires some clinical experience. Curtailing cigarettes and alcohol use preoperatively may have been done to stay in the good graces of the surgeon. Many patients may have seen this as their path to a second chance that they intended to maintain.

The incentive to proceed to surgical weight loss, which incurs a measure of risk and forces changes in long ingrained eating habits, involves avoiding future morbidity and promoting longevity. Thus, the postoperative behaviors that threaten the long-term goal need to become a component of ongoing follow-up.

The acquisition of adverse behaviors not present preoperatively seems more difficult to sort out, and obligates those of us following these patients to ask about changes in alcohol use and provide resources for them should they need intervention.

Dr. Plotzker is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both private practice and hospital settings.

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

Every Wednesday evening after supper, I record in a marble notebook some anthropomorphic measurements: my weight taken first thing Monday morning and my waist circumference. I also add how I did with exercise since the previous week’s entry and some comments about sleep, energy, and nutrition.

My personal log now comprises dozens of pages. To my surprise, the first entry was 5 years ago to the month. The earlier entries were far from weekly and contained a lot of narrative on how my food-restriction scheme that month was being violated.

Looking just at the numbers, I did about as well as a control group participant in any medical study of diet modification. Until just a few months ago, there was no trend in either weight or waist circumference over those 5 years, including 2 years of retirement. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. Keeping the journal for as long as I have – and recently, as consistently as I have – suggests serious intent but inadequate execution of the same principles I offered patients, who rarely did much better. But recent studies suggest that perhaps quite a few could.
 

Are we underestimating our patients’ potential?

A recent abstract from the European and International Congress on Obesity suggests that the impressions clinicians get from our office encounters may leave us underestimating the potential for our patients to lose enough weight to move them from one level of risk to another.

Using a national database of primary care visits, the investigators isolated about 550,000 records. Of these, about 60,000 (11%) had records showing weight reductions of 10%-25% (mean, 13%) over at least 4 years. Weight loss was by intent rather than from illness. The remaining individuals maintained their weight within 5% of the first measurement for the duration of the study.

Participants with stable body weight were compared with the successful weight reducers. This analysis showed that the risk for type 2 diabetes, osteoarthritis, sleep apnea, hypertension, and dyslipidemia all measurably declined in weight reducers. This held true whether the patient’s baseline body mass index (BMI) showed modest or severe obesity. Patients with the highest BMI at enrollment actually reduced their risks for hypertension and dyslipidemia below population norms.

This study raises tantalizing, as yet unanswered questions: How did the successful 11% achieve their weight loss goals? Was it via a weight loss program, bariatric surgery, dietitian consult, or with no external assistance?

And of great significance to clinicians: What happened to the people who achieved 5%-10% weight reduction, as that is a more typical outcome of diabetes prevention trials or studies of weight-loss medications? Were they excluded from the study because they did not lose enough weight to achieve the unequivocal health benefit?

Because the data came from an enormous database, the weight management strategies leading to success or failure – what we really need to know to nudge our own patients into the favorable categories – remain hidden.
 

The Advantage of Intensive Interventions

Some answers emerged from a recently reported study in the New England Journal of Medicine comparing supervised diet and lifestyle adjustments (treatment group) with the less intense oversight typically offered by primary care clinicians (usual-care group).

The treatment group not only received the intensive lifestyle intervention, which focused on reduced caloric intake and increased physical activity, but also participated in mandated training sessions on how to best use the resources provided by the study. Much of the care was delegated by physicians to “coaches” who focused on nutrition, exercise, and behavioral health, including supermarket strategy.

Nearly a quarter of the participants in the intensive intervention group achieved the 10% weight reduction needed to change health risk in a meaningful way. A similar proportion lost less than 10% of their body weight, and about half did not have a notable weight change. Peak weight loss at 6 months averaged 17 lb, and 9.6 lb at 2 years. While this may not seem very impressive considering the extensive resources utilized, there were those who experienced an extraordinary health upgrade not otherwise available, short of bariatric surgery.
 

What does this mean for us?

Both studies indicate that, even under the best-controlled, resource-replete circumstances, the rate of failure to achieve desired progress is very high. But there is a success rate.

The likelihood of success is difficult to interpret from the European data, as it compared only those with major weight loss and those with weight stability, excluding patients with less robust loss or weight gain. The controlled study, however, holds forth an alluring opportunity benefiting a quarter of the targeted participants and even about 5% of the controls who realized that they were being observed.

We also learn that supervision requires a lot more than having a well-meaning but not very well-trained physician ask a patient to log measurements and food intake. Health coaches seem to make the impact.

Failure rates of 50% have a way of dampening enthusiasm, but it may be best to approach the scourge of obesity by offering treatment to everyone with the expectation that not all will experience greatly enhanced quality of life and longevity. Not everyone will benefit, but these two studies confirm that we do have an underutilized capacity to help more people benefit than we currently do.

Richard M. Plotzker, MD, is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both the private practice and hospital settings. He has been a Medscape contributor since 2012.

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

Every Wednesday evening after supper, I record in a marble notebook some anthropomorphic measurements: my weight taken first thing Monday morning and my waist circumference. I also add how I did with exercise since the previous week’s entry and some comments about sleep, energy, and nutrition.

My personal log now comprises dozens of pages. To my surprise, the first entry was 5 years ago to the month. The earlier entries were far from weekly and contained a lot of narrative on how my food-restriction scheme that month was being violated.

Looking just at the numbers, I did about as well as a control group participant in any medical study of diet modification. Until just a few months ago, there was no trend in either weight or waist circumference over those 5 years, including 2 years of retirement. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. Keeping the journal for as long as I have – and recently, as consistently as I have – suggests serious intent but inadequate execution of the same principles I offered patients, who rarely did much better. But recent studies suggest that perhaps quite a few could.
 

Are we underestimating our patients’ potential?

A recent abstract from the European and International Congress on Obesity suggests that the impressions clinicians get from our office encounters may leave us underestimating the potential for our patients to lose enough weight to move them from one level of risk to another.

Using a national database of primary care visits, the investigators isolated about 550,000 records. Of these, about 60,000 (11%) had records showing weight reductions of 10%-25% (mean, 13%) over at least 4 years. Weight loss was by intent rather than from illness. The remaining individuals maintained their weight within 5% of the first measurement for the duration of the study.

Participants with stable body weight were compared with the successful weight reducers. This analysis showed that the risk for type 2 diabetes, osteoarthritis, sleep apnea, hypertension, and dyslipidemia all measurably declined in weight reducers. This held true whether the patient’s baseline body mass index (BMI) showed modest or severe obesity. Patients with the highest BMI at enrollment actually reduced their risks for hypertension and dyslipidemia below population norms.

This study raises tantalizing, as yet unanswered questions: How did the successful 11% achieve their weight loss goals? Was it via a weight loss program, bariatric surgery, dietitian consult, or with no external assistance?

And of great significance to clinicians: What happened to the people who achieved 5%-10% weight reduction, as that is a more typical outcome of diabetes prevention trials or studies of weight-loss medications? Were they excluded from the study because they did not lose enough weight to achieve the unequivocal health benefit?

Because the data came from an enormous database, the weight management strategies leading to success or failure – what we really need to know to nudge our own patients into the favorable categories – remain hidden.
 

The Advantage of Intensive Interventions

Some answers emerged from a recently reported study in the New England Journal of Medicine comparing supervised diet and lifestyle adjustments (treatment group) with the less intense oversight typically offered by primary care clinicians (usual-care group).

The treatment group not only received the intensive lifestyle intervention, which focused on reduced caloric intake and increased physical activity, but also participated in mandated training sessions on how to best use the resources provided by the study. Much of the care was delegated by physicians to “coaches” who focused on nutrition, exercise, and behavioral health, including supermarket strategy.

Nearly a quarter of the participants in the intensive intervention group achieved the 10% weight reduction needed to change health risk in a meaningful way. A similar proportion lost less than 10% of their body weight, and about half did not have a notable weight change. Peak weight loss at 6 months averaged 17 lb, and 9.6 lb at 2 years. While this may not seem very impressive considering the extensive resources utilized, there were those who experienced an extraordinary health upgrade not otherwise available, short of bariatric surgery.
 

What does this mean for us?

Both studies indicate that, even under the best-controlled, resource-replete circumstances, the rate of failure to achieve desired progress is very high. But there is a success rate.

The likelihood of success is difficult to interpret from the European data, as it compared only those with major weight loss and those with weight stability, excluding patients with less robust loss or weight gain. The controlled study, however, holds forth an alluring opportunity benefiting a quarter of the targeted participants and even about 5% of the controls who realized that they were being observed.

We also learn that supervision requires a lot more than having a well-meaning but not very well-trained physician ask a patient to log measurements and food intake. Health coaches seem to make the impact.

Failure rates of 50% have a way of dampening enthusiasm, but it may be best to approach the scourge of obesity by offering treatment to everyone with the expectation that not all will experience greatly enhanced quality of life and longevity. Not everyone will benefit, but these two studies confirm that we do have an underutilized capacity to help more people benefit than we currently do.

Richard M. Plotzker, MD, is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both the private practice and hospital settings. He has been a Medscape contributor since 2012.

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

Every Wednesday evening after supper, I record in a marble notebook some anthropomorphic measurements: my weight taken first thing Monday morning and my waist circumference. I also add how I did with exercise since the previous week’s entry and some comments about sleep, energy, and nutrition.

My personal log now comprises dozens of pages. To my surprise, the first entry was 5 years ago to the month. The earlier entries were far from weekly and contained a lot of narrative on how my food-restriction scheme that month was being violated.

Looking just at the numbers, I did about as well as a control group participant in any medical study of diet modification. Until just a few months ago, there was no trend in either weight or waist circumference over those 5 years, including 2 years of retirement. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. Keeping the journal for as long as I have – and recently, as consistently as I have – suggests serious intent but inadequate execution of the same principles I offered patients, who rarely did much better. But recent studies suggest that perhaps quite a few could.
 

Are we underestimating our patients’ potential?

A recent abstract from the European and International Congress on Obesity suggests that the impressions clinicians get from our office encounters may leave us underestimating the potential for our patients to lose enough weight to move them from one level of risk to another.

Using a national database of primary care visits, the investigators isolated about 550,000 records. Of these, about 60,000 (11%) had records showing weight reductions of 10%-25% (mean, 13%) over at least 4 years. Weight loss was by intent rather than from illness. The remaining individuals maintained their weight within 5% of the first measurement for the duration of the study.

Participants with stable body weight were compared with the successful weight reducers. This analysis showed that the risk for type 2 diabetes, osteoarthritis, sleep apnea, hypertension, and dyslipidemia all measurably declined in weight reducers. This held true whether the patient’s baseline body mass index (BMI) showed modest or severe obesity. Patients with the highest BMI at enrollment actually reduced their risks for hypertension and dyslipidemia below population norms.

This study raises tantalizing, as yet unanswered questions: How did the successful 11% achieve their weight loss goals? Was it via a weight loss program, bariatric surgery, dietitian consult, or with no external assistance?

And of great significance to clinicians: What happened to the people who achieved 5%-10% weight reduction, as that is a more typical outcome of diabetes prevention trials or studies of weight-loss medications? Were they excluded from the study because they did not lose enough weight to achieve the unequivocal health benefit?

Because the data came from an enormous database, the weight management strategies leading to success or failure – what we really need to know to nudge our own patients into the favorable categories – remain hidden.
 

The Advantage of Intensive Interventions

Some answers emerged from a recently reported study in the New England Journal of Medicine comparing supervised diet and lifestyle adjustments (treatment group) with the less intense oversight typically offered by primary care clinicians (usual-care group).

The treatment group not only received the intensive lifestyle intervention, which focused on reduced caloric intake and increased physical activity, but also participated in mandated training sessions on how to best use the resources provided by the study. Much of the care was delegated by physicians to “coaches” who focused on nutrition, exercise, and behavioral health, including supermarket strategy.

Nearly a quarter of the participants in the intensive intervention group achieved the 10% weight reduction needed to change health risk in a meaningful way. A similar proportion lost less than 10% of their body weight, and about half did not have a notable weight change. Peak weight loss at 6 months averaged 17 lb, and 9.6 lb at 2 years. While this may not seem very impressive considering the extensive resources utilized, there were those who experienced an extraordinary health upgrade not otherwise available, short of bariatric surgery.
 

What does this mean for us?

Both studies indicate that, even under the best-controlled, resource-replete circumstances, the rate of failure to achieve desired progress is very high. But there is a success rate.

The likelihood of success is difficult to interpret from the European data, as it compared only those with major weight loss and those with weight stability, excluding patients with less robust loss or weight gain. The controlled study, however, holds forth an alluring opportunity benefiting a quarter of the targeted participants and even about 5% of the controls who realized that they were being observed.

We also learn that supervision requires a lot more than having a well-meaning but not very well-trained physician ask a patient to log measurements and food intake. Health coaches seem to make the impact.

Failure rates of 50% have a way of dampening enthusiasm, but it may be best to approach the scourge of obesity by offering treatment to everyone with the expectation that not all will experience greatly enhanced quality of life and longevity. Not everyone will benefit, but these two studies confirm that we do have an underutilized capacity to help more people benefit than we currently do.

Richard M. Plotzker, MD, is a retired endocrinologist with 40 years of experience treating patients in both the private practice and hospital settings. He has been a Medscape contributor since 2012.

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