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‘Dr. Caveman’ had a leg up on amputation
Monkey see, monkey do (advanced medical procedures)
We don’t tend to think too kindly of our prehistoric ancestors. We throw around the word “caveman” – hardly a term of endearment – and depictions of Paleolithic humans rarely flatter their subjects. In many ways, though, our conceptions are correct. Humans of the Stone Age lived short, often brutish lives, but civilization had to start somewhere, and our prehistoric ancestors were often far more capable than we give them credit for.
Case in point is a recent discovery from an archaeological dig in Borneo: A young adult who lived 31,000 years ago was discovered with the lower third of their left leg amputated. Save the clever retort about the person’s untimely death, because this individual did not die from the surgery. The amputation occurred when the individual was a child and the subject lived for several years after the operation.
Amputation is usually unnecessary given our current level of medical technology, but it’s actually quite an advanced procedure, and this example predates the previous first case of amputation by nearly 25,000 years. Not only did the surgeon need to cut at an appropriate place, they needed to understand blood loss, the risk of infection, and the need to preserve skin in order to seal the wound back up. That’s quite a lot for our Paleolithic doctor to know, and it’s even more impressive considering the, shall we say, limited tools they would have had available to perform the operation.
Rocks. They cut off the leg with a rock. And it worked.
This discovery also gives insight into the amputee’s society. Someone knew that amputation was the right move for this person, indicating that it had been done before. In addition, the individual would not have been able to spring back into action hunting mammoths right away, they would require care for the rest of their lives. And clearly the community provided, given the individual’s continued life post operation and their burial in a place of honor.
If only the American health care system was capable of such feats of compassion, but that would require the majority of politicians to be as clever as cavemen. We’re not hopeful on those odds.
The first step is admitting you have a crying baby. The second step is … a step
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Crying baby.
Crying baby who?
Crying baby who … umm … doesn’t have a punchline. Let’s try this again.
A priest, a rabbi, and a crying baby walk into a bar and … nope, that’s not going to work.
Why did the crying baby cross the road? Ugh, never mind.
Clearly, crying babies are no laughing matter. What crying babies need is science. And the latest innovation – it’s fresh from a study conducted at the RIKEN Center for Brain Science in Saitama, Japan – in the science of crying babies is … walking. Researchers observed 21 unhappy infants and compared their responses to four strategies: being held by their walking mothers, held by their sitting mothers, lying in a motionless crib, or lying in a rocking cot.
The best strategy is for the mother – the experiment only involved mothers, but the results should apply to any caregiver – to pick up the crying baby, walk around for 5 minutes, sit for another 5-8 minutes, and then put the infant back to bed, the researchers said in a written statement.
The walking strategy, however, isn’t perfect. “Walking for 5 minutes promoted sleep, but only for crying infants. Surprisingly, this effect was absent when babies were already calm beforehand,” lead author Kumi O. Kuroda, MD, PhD, explained in a separate statement from the center.
It also doesn’t work on adults. We could not get a crying LOTME writer to fall asleep no matter how long his mother carried him around the office.
New way to detect Parkinson’s has already passed the sniff test
We humans aren’t generally known for our superpowers, but a woman from Scotland may just be the Smelling Superhero. Not only was she able to literally smell Parkinson’s disease (PD) on her husband 12 years before his diagnosis; she is also the reason that scientists have found a new way to test for PD.
Joy Milne, a retired nurse, told the BBC that her husband “had this musty rather unpleasant smell especially round his shoulders and the back of his neck and his skin had definitely changed.” She put two and two together after he had been diagnosed with PD and she came in contact with others with the same scent at a support group.
Researchers at the University of Manchester, working with Ms. Milne, have now created a skin test that uses mass spectroscopy to analyze a sample of the patient’s sebum in just 3 minutes and is 95% accurate. They tested 79 people with Parkinson’s and 71 without using this method and found “specific compounds unique to PD sebum samples when compared to healthy controls. Furthermore, we have identified two classes of lipids, namely, triacylglycerides and diglycerides, as components of human sebum that are significantly differentially expressed in PD,” they said in JACS Au.
This test could be available to general physicians within 2 years, which would provide new opportunities to the people who are waiting in line for neurologic consults. Ms. Milne’s husband passed away in 2015, but her courageous help and amazing nasal abilities may help millions down the line.
The power of flirting
It’s a common office stereotype: Women flirt with the boss to get ahead in the workplace, while men in power sexually harass women in subordinate positions. Nobody ever suspects the guys in the cubicles. A recent study takes a different look and paints a different picture.
The investigators conducted multiple online and lab experiments in how social sexual identity drives behavior in a workplace setting in relation to job placement. They found that it was most often men in lower-power positions who are insecure about their roles who initiate social sexual behavior, even though they know it’s offensive. Why? Power.
They randomly paired over 200 undergraduate students in a male/female fashion, placed them in subordinate and boss-like roles, and asked them to choose from a series of social sexual questions they wanted to ask their teammate. Male participants who were placed in subordinate positions to a female boss chose social sexual questions more often than did male bosses, female subordinates, and female bosses.
So what does this say about the threat of workplace harassment? The researchers found that men and women differ in their strategy for flirtation. For men, it’s a way to gain more power. But problems arise when they rationalize their behavior with a character trait like being a “big flirt.”
“When we take on that identity, it leads to certain behavioral patterns that reinforce the identity. And then, people use that identity as an excuse,” lead author Laura Kray of the University of California, Berkeley, said in a statement from the school.
The researchers make a point to note that the study isn’t about whether flirting is good or bad, nor are they suggesting that people in powerful positions don’t sexually harass underlings. It’s meant to provide insight to improve corporate sexual harassment training. A comment or conversation held in jest could potentially be a warning sign for future behavior.
Monkey see, monkey do (advanced medical procedures)
We don’t tend to think too kindly of our prehistoric ancestors. We throw around the word “caveman” – hardly a term of endearment – and depictions of Paleolithic humans rarely flatter their subjects. In many ways, though, our conceptions are correct. Humans of the Stone Age lived short, often brutish lives, but civilization had to start somewhere, and our prehistoric ancestors were often far more capable than we give them credit for.
Case in point is a recent discovery from an archaeological dig in Borneo: A young adult who lived 31,000 years ago was discovered with the lower third of their left leg amputated. Save the clever retort about the person’s untimely death, because this individual did not die from the surgery. The amputation occurred when the individual was a child and the subject lived for several years after the operation.
Amputation is usually unnecessary given our current level of medical technology, but it’s actually quite an advanced procedure, and this example predates the previous first case of amputation by nearly 25,000 years. Not only did the surgeon need to cut at an appropriate place, they needed to understand blood loss, the risk of infection, and the need to preserve skin in order to seal the wound back up. That’s quite a lot for our Paleolithic doctor to know, and it’s even more impressive considering the, shall we say, limited tools they would have had available to perform the operation.
Rocks. They cut off the leg with a rock. And it worked.
This discovery also gives insight into the amputee’s society. Someone knew that amputation was the right move for this person, indicating that it had been done before. In addition, the individual would not have been able to spring back into action hunting mammoths right away, they would require care for the rest of their lives. And clearly the community provided, given the individual’s continued life post operation and their burial in a place of honor.
If only the American health care system was capable of such feats of compassion, but that would require the majority of politicians to be as clever as cavemen. We’re not hopeful on those odds.
The first step is admitting you have a crying baby. The second step is … a step
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Crying baby.
Crying baby who?
Crying baby who … umm … doesn’t have a punchline. Let’s try this again.
A priest, a rabbi, and a crying baby walk into a bar and … nope, that’s not going to work.
Why did the crying baby cross the road? Ugh, never mind.
Clearly, crying babies are no laughing matter. What crying babies need is science. And the latest innovation – it’s fresh from a study conducted at the RIKEN Center for Brain Science in Saitama, Japan – in the science of crying babies is … walking. Researchers observed 21 unhappy infants and compared their responses to four strategies: being held by their walking mothers, held by their sitting mothers, lying in a motionless crib, or lying in a rocking cot.
The best strategy is for the mother – the experiment only involved mothers, but the results should apply to any caregiver – to pick up the crying baby, walk around for 5 minutes, sit for another 5-8 minutes, and then put the infant back to bed, the researchers said in a written statement.
The walking strategy, however, isn’t perfect. “Walking for 5 minutes promoted sleep, but only for crying infants. Surprisingly, this effect was absent when babies were already calm beforehand,” lead author Kumi O. Kuroda, MD, PhD, explained in a separate statement from the center.
It also doesn’t work on adults. We could not get a crying LOTME writer to fall asleep no matter how long his mother carried him around the office.
New way to detect Parkinson’s has already passed the sniff test
We humans aren’t generally known for our superpowers, but a woman from Scotland may just be the Smelling Superhero. Not only was she able to literally smell Parkinson’s disease (PD) on her husband 12 years before his diagnosis; she is also the reason that scientists have found a new way to test for PD.
Joy Milne, a retired nurse, told the BBC that her husband “had this musty rather unpleasant smell especially round his shoulders and the back of his neck and his skin had definitely changed.” She put two and two together after he had been diagnosed with PD and she came in contact with others with the same scent at a support group.
Researchers at the University of Manchester, working with Ms. Milne, have now created a skin test that uses mass spectroscopy to analyze a sample of the patient’s sebum in just 3 minutes and is 95% accurate. They tested 79 people with Parkinson’s and 71 without using this method and found “specific compounds unique to PD sebum samples when compared to healthy controls. Furthermore, we have identified two classes of lipids, namely, triacylglycerides and diglycerides, as components of human sebum that are significantly differentially expressed in PD,” they said in JACS Au.
This test could be available to general physicians within 2 years, which would provide new opportunities to the people who are waiting in line for neurologic consults. Ms. Milne’s husband passed away in 2015, but her courageous help and amazing nasal abilities may help millions down the line.
The power of flirting
It’s a common office stereotype: Women flirt with the boss to get ahead in the workplace, while men in power sexually harass women in subordinate positions. Nobody ever suspects the guys in the cubicles. A recent study takes a different look and paints a different picture.
The investigators conducted multiple online and lab experiments in how social sexual identity drives behavior in a workplace setting in relation to job placement. They found that it was most often men in lower-power positions who are insecure about their roles who initiate social sexual behavior, even though they know it’s offensive. Why? Power.
They randomly paired over 200 undergraduate students in a male/female fashion, placed them in subordinate and boss-like roles, and asked them to choose from a series of social sexual questions they wanted to ask their teammate. Male participants who were placed in subordinate positions to a female boss chose social sexual questions more often than did male bosses, female subordinates, and female bosses.
So what does this say about the threat of workplace harassment? The researchers found that men and women differ in their strategy for flirtation. For men, it’s a way to gain more power. But problems arise when they rationalize their behavior with a character trait like being a “big flirt.”
“When we take on that identity, it leads to certain behavioral patterns that reinforce the identity. And then, people use that identity as an excuse,” lead author Laura Kray of the University of California, Berkeley, said in a statement from the school.
The researchers make a point to note that the study isn’t about whether flirting is good or bad, nor are they suggesting that people in powerful positions don’t sexually harass underlings. It’s meant to provide insight to improve corporate sexual harassment training. A comment or conversation held in jest could potentially be a warning sign for future behavior.
Monkey see, monkey do (advanced medical procedures)
We don’t tend to think too kindly of our prehistoric ancestors. We throw around the word “caveman” – hardly a term of endearment – and depictions of Paleolithic humans rarely flatter their subjects. In many ways, though, our conceptions are correct. Humans of the Stone Age lived short, often brutish lives, but civilization had to start somewhere, and our prehistoric ancestors were often far more capable than we give them credit for.
Case in point is a recent discovery from an archaeological dig in Borneo: A young adult who lived 31,000 years ago was discovered with the lower third of their left leg amputated. Save the clever retort about the person’s untimely death, because this individual did not die from the surgery. The amputation occurred when the individual was a child and the subject lived for several years after the operation.
Amputation is usually unnecessary given our current level of medical technology, but it’s actually quite an advanced procedure, and this example predates the previous first case of amputation by nearly 25,000 years. Not only did the surgeon need to cut at an appropriate place, they needed to understand blood loss, the risk of infection, and the need to preserve skin in order to seal the wound back up. That’s quite a lot for our Paleolithic doctor to know, and it’s even more impressive considering the, shall we say, limited tools they would have had available to perform the operation.
Rocks. They cut off the leg with a rock. And it worked.
This discovery also gives insight into the amputee’s society. Someone knew that amputation was the right move for this person, indicating that it had been done before. In addition, the individual would not have been able to spring back into action hunting mammoths right away, they would require care for the rest of their lives. And clearly the community provided, given the individual’s continued life post operation and their burial in a place of honor.
If only the American health care system was capable of such feats of compassion, but that would require the majority of politicians to be as clever as cavemen. We’re not hopeful on those odds.
The first step is admitting you have a crying baby. The second step is … a step
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Crying baby.
Crying baby who?
Crying baby who … umm … doesn’t have a punchline. Let’s try this again.
A priest, a rabbi, and a crying baby walk into a bar and … nope, that’s not going to work.
Why did the crying baby cross the road? Ugh, never mind.
Clearly, crying babies are no laughing matter. What crying babies need is science. And the latest innovation – it’s fresh from a study conducted at the RIKEN Center for Brain Science in Saitama, Japan – in the science of crying babies is … walking. Researchers observed 21 unhappy infants and compared their responses to four strategies: being held by their walking mothers, held by their sitting mothers, lying in a motionless crib, or lying in a rocking cot.
The best strategy is for the mother – the experiment only involved mothers, but the results should apply to any caregiver – to pick up the crying baby, walk around for 5 minutes, sit for another 5-8 minutes, and then put the infant back to bed, the researchers said in a written statement.
The walking strategy, however, isn’t perfect. “Walking for 5 minutes promoted sleep, but only for crying infants. Surprisingly, this effect was absent when babies were already calm beforehand,” lead author Kumi O. Kuroda, MD, PhD, explained in a separate statement from the center.
It also doesn’t work on adults. We could not get a crying LOTME writer to fall asleep no matter how long his mother carried him around the office.
New way to detect Parkinson’s has already passed the sniff test
We humans aren’t generally known for our superpowers, but a woman from Scotland may just be the Smelling Superhero. Not only was she able to literally smell Parkinson’s disease (PD) on her husband 12 years before his diagnosis; she is also the reason that scientists have found a new way to test for PD.
Joy Milne, a retired nurse, told the BBC that her husband “had this musty rather unpleasant smell especially round his shoulders and the back of his neck and his skin had definitely changed.” She put two and two together after he had been diagnosed with PD and she came in contact with others with the same scent at a support group.
Researchers at the University of Manchester, working with Ms. Milne, have now created a skin test that uses mass spectroscopy to analyze a sample of the patient’s sebum in just 3 minutes and is 95% accurate. They tested 79 people with Parkinson’s and 71 without using this method and found “specific compounds unique to PD sebum samples when compared to healthy controls. Furthermore, we have identified two classes of lipids, namely, triacylglycerides and diglycerides, as components of human sebum that are significantly differentially expressed in PD,” they said in JACS Au.
This test could be available to general physicians within 2 years, which would provide new opportunities to the people who are waiting in line for neurologic consults. Ms. Milne’s husband passed away in 2015, but her courageous help and amazing nasal abilities may help millions down the line.
The power of flirting
It’s a common office stereotype: Women flirt with the boss to get ahead in the workplace, while men in power sexually harass women in subordinate positions. Nobody ever suspects the guys in the cubicles. A recent study takes a different look and paints a different picture.
The investigators conducted multiple online and lab experiments in how social sexual identity drives behavior in a workplace setting in relation to job placement. They found that it was most often men in lower-power positions who are insecure about their roles who initiate social sexual behavior, even though they know it’s offensive. Why? Power.
They randomly paired over 200 undergraduate students in a male/female fashion, placed them in subordinate and boss-like roles, and asked them to choose from a series of social sexual questions they wanted to ask their teammate. Male participants who were placed in subordinate positions to a female boss chose social sexual questions more often than did male bosses, female subordinates, and female bosses.
So what does this say about the threat of workplace harassment? The researchers found that men and women differ in their strategy for flirtation. For men, it’s a way to gain more power. But problems arise when they rationalize their behavior with a character trait like being a “big flirt.”
“When we take on that identity, it leads to certain behavioral patterns that reinforce the identity. And then, people use that identity as an excuse,” lead author Laura Kray of the University of California, Berkeley, said in a statement from the school.
The researchers make a point to note that the study isn’t about whether flirting is good or bad, nor are they suggesting that people in powerful positions don’t sexually harass underlings. It’s meant to provide insight to improve corporate sexual harassment training. A comment or conversation held in jest could potentially be a warning sign for future behavior.
FDA warns of cancer risk in scar tissue around breast implants
.
The FDA safety communication is based on several dozen reports of these cancers occurring in the capsule or scar tissue around breast implants. This issue differs from breast implant–associated anaplastic large-cell lymphoma (BIA-ALCL) – a known risk among implant recipients.
“After preliminary review of published literature as part of our ongoing monitoring of the safety of breast implants, the FDA is aware of less than 20 cases of SCC and less than 30 cases of various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implant,” the agency’s alert explains.
One avenue through which the FDA has identified cases is via medical device reports. As of Sept. 1, the FDA has received 10 medical device reports about SCC related to breast implants and 12 about various lymphomas.
The incidence rate and risk factors for these events are currently unknown, but reports of SCC and various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implants have been reported for both textured and smooth breast implants, as well as for both saline and silicone breast implants. In some cases, the cancers were diagnosed years after breast implant surgery.
Reported signs and symptoms included swelling, pain, lumps, or skin changes.
Although the risks of SCC and lymphomas in the tissue around breast implants appears rare, “when safety risks with medical devices are identified, we wanted to provide clear and understandable information to the public as quickly as possible,” Binita Ashar, MD, director of the Office of Surgical and Infection Control Devices, FDA Center for Devices and Radiological Health, explained in a press release.
Patients and providers are strongly encouraged to report breast implant–related problems and cases of SCC or lymphoma of the breast implant capsule to MedWatch, the FDA’s adverse event reporting program.
The FDA plans to complete “a thorough literature review” as well as “identify ways to collect more detailed information regarding patient cases.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
.
The FDA safety communication is based on several dozen reports of these cancers occurring in the capsule or scar tissue around breast implants. This issue differs from breast implant–associated anaplastic large-cell lymphoma (BIA-ALCL) – a known risk among implant recipients.
“After preliminary review of published literature as part of our ongoing monitoring of the safety of breast implants, the FDA is aware of less than 20 cases of SCC and less than 30 cases of various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implant,” the agency’s alert explains.
One avenue through which the FDA has identified cases is via medical device reports. As of Sept. 1, the FDA has received 10 medical device reports about SCC related to breast implants and 12 about various lymphomas.
The incidence rate and risk factors for these events are currently unknown, but reports of SCC and various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implants have been reported for both textured and smooth breast implants, as well as for both saline and silicone breast implants. In some cases, the cancers were diagnosed years after breast implant surgery.
Reported signs and symptoms included swelling, pain, lumps, or skin changes.
Although the risks of SCC and lymphomas in the tissue around breast implants appears rare, “when safety risks with medical devices are identified, we wanted to provide clear and understandable information to the public as quickly as possible,” Binita Ashar, MD, director of the Office of Surgical and Infection Control Devices, FDA Center for Devices and Radiological Health, explained in a press release.
Patients and providers are strongly encouraged to report breast implant–related problems and cases of SCC or lymphoma of the breast implant capsule to MedWatch, the FDA’s adverse event reporting program.
The FDA plans to complete “a thorough literature review” as well as “identify ways to collect more detailed information regarding patient cases.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
.
The FDA safety communication is based on several dozen reports of these cancers occurring in the capsule or scar tissue around breast implants. This issue differs from breast implant–associated anaplastic large-cell lymphoma (BIA-ALCL) – a known risk among implant recipients.
“After preliminary review of published literature as part of our ongoing monitoring of the safety of breast implants, the FDA is aware of less than 20 cases of SCC and less than 30 cases of various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implant,” the agency’s alert explains.
One avenue through which the FDA has identified cases is via medical device reports. As of Sept. 1, the FDA has received 10 medical device reports about SCC related to breast implants and 12 about various lymphomas.
The incidence rate and risk factors for these events are currently unknown, but reports of SCC and various lymphomas in the capsule around the breast implants have been reported for both textured and smooth breast implants, as well as for both saline and silicone breast implants. In some cases, the cancers were diagnosed years after breast implant surgery.
Reported signs and symptoms included swelling, pain, lumps, or skin changes.
Although the risks of SCC and lymphomas in the tissue around breast implants appears rare, “when safety risks with medical devices are identified, we wanted to provide clear and understandable information to the public as quickly as possible,” Binita Ashar, MD, director of the Office of Surgical and Infection Control Devices, FDA Center for Devices and Radiological Health, explained in a press release.
Patients and providers are strongly encouraged to report breast implant–related problems and cases of SCC or lymphoma of the breast implant capsule to MedWatch, the FDA’s adverse event reporting program.
The FDA plans to complete “a thorough literature review” as well as “identify ways to collect more detailed information regarding patient cases.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
`Wonder Woman’ launches myelofibrosis research foundation
When Lynda Carter talks about her late husband Robert Altman, you can sense right away that this was a love affair for the ages.
“As I’ve often said, if you were a friend of Robert’s, you were one of the luckiest people in the world,” said Ms. Carter, the singer-songwriter and actor best known for her role as Wonder Woman in the 1970s TV series, who married Mr. Altman, an attorney, in 1984.
For Ms. Carter, Mr. Altman, and their children, Jessica and James, everything changed in 2017, when Mr. Altman was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, a rare bone marrow disorder – about one case is reported per 100,000 Americans each year – that was found during routine blood work.
“Robert was never sick a day in his life,” she said in an interview. “He skied and swam, and in many ways we were in the prime of our lives together. When he was initially diagnosed, we weren’t even clear what he had. The buzzword was that he had a rare blood disorder, not cancer.”
The family was told to wait and see if the disease would get worse, which it did, unfortunately, at the exact time COVID-19 hit.
This condition can progress from myelofibrosis to secondary acute myeloid leukemia, a rare blood cancer, said Michael Caligiuri, MD, a leading researcher in immunology, lymphoma, and leukemia and president of City of Hope National Medical Center, Duarte, Calif., one of the largest cancer research and treatment organizations in the United States.
“This disease is chronic and slow changing, but when it progresses more acutely to a form of leukemia, it can advance rapidly,” he said.
At the acute phase, there’s not much that can be done for the patient.
“This becomes very much a life-and-death situation,” he said. “You want to hope for the best, but there needs to be an expectation of the worst in terms of trying to prepare the patient and the family for what may come so that they can start to psychologically and legally put the person’s life in order.”
Despite every effort, Mr. Altman died in February 2021 at the age of 73.
The goal: To speed up critical research that will improve early detection and survival for this hard-to-treat blood cancer.
“I’m excited to be a part of this team and to know that I may play a small part in helping other families facing this same diagnosis,” Ms. Carter said. “It’s thrilling seeing the progress these scientists are making, from genomic research into a universe of trillions of codes that might actually become a drug therapy someday.”
With the creation of the foundation, there will be funding to develop better diagnostics and better treatments.
“In many instances, this research will shed light on other related disorders, too,” said Dr. Caligiuri. “Cancer is a disease of the genes, and in most cases, we’re not inheriting from our mothers or fathers, but the DNA gets switched around in one of the trillion cells in our body, the way a word is misspelled.”
What happens next is that the cell doesn’t die.
“Instead, it undergoes a nuclear reaction and grows and grows,” he said. “In this case, the first evidence of a problem was myelofibrosis. That ticking time bomb continued until it exploded into leukemia.”
Dr. Caligiuri said the goal of their research will be to develop a device that can rearrange that DNA or block the DNA changes so the disease doesn’t progress to leukemia or, if it does, so “that we can turn it into a chronic condition, not an acute one that’s life-threatening.”
For Ms. Carter, this foundation is one very heartfelt way that she can honor her husband’s legacy.
“When I lost Robert, I was left with so many questions,” she said. “I wanted to understand why rare cancers are so difficult to treat and what research or treatment advances were being made to change that. Robert was never one for self-aggrandizement, but I think he would like this. I think Robert would really be touched by this.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.
When Lynda Carter talks about her late husband Robert Altman, you can sense right away that this was a love affair for the ages.
“As I’ve often said, if you were a friend of Robert’s, you were one of the luckiest people in the world,” said Ms. Carter, the singer-songwriter and actor best known for her role as Wonder Woman in the 1970s TV series, who married Mr. Altman, an attorney, in 1984.
For Ms. Carter, Mr. Altman, and their children, Jessica and James, everything changed in 2017, when Mr. Altman was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, a rare bone marrow disorder – about one case is reported per 100,000 Americans each year – that was found during routine blood work.
“Robert was never sick a day in his life,” she said in an interview. “He skied and swam, and in many ways we were in the prime of our lives together. When he was initially diagnosed, we weren’t even clear what he had. The buzzword was that he had a rare blood disorder, not cancer.”
The family was told to wait and see if the disease would get worse, which it did, unfortunately, at the exact time COVID-19 hit.
This condition can progress from myelofibrosis to secondary acute myeloid leukemia, a rare blood cancer, said Michael Caligiuri, MD, a leading researcher in immunology, lymphoma, and leukemia and president of City of Hope National Medical Center, Duarte, Calif., one of the largest cancer research and treatment organizations in the United States.
“This disease is chronic and slow changing, but when it progresses more acutely to a form of leukemia, it can advance rapidly,” he said.
At the acute phase, there’s not much that can be done for the patient.
“This becomes very much a life-and-death situation,” he said. “You want to hope for the best, but there needs to be an expectation of the worst in terms of trying to prepare the patient and the family for what may come so that they can start to psychologically and legally put the person’s life in order.”
Despite every effort, Mr. Altman died in February 2021 at the age of 73.
The goal: To speed up critical research that will improve early detection and survival for this hard-to-treat blood cancer.
“I’m excited to be a part of this team and to know that I may play a small part in helping other families facing this same diagnosis,” Ms. Carter said. “It’s thrilling seeing the progress these scientists are making, from genomic research into a universe of trillions of codes that might actually become a drug therapy someday.”
With the creation of the foundation, there will be funding to develop better diagnostics and better treatments.
“In many instances, this research will shed light on other related disorders, too,” said Dr. Caligiuri. “Cancer is a disease of the genes, and in most cases, we’re not inheriting from our mothers or fathers, but the DNA gets switched around in one of the trillion cells in our body, the way a word is misspelled.”
What happens next is that the cell doesn’t die.
“Instead, it undergoes a nuclear reaction and grows and grows,” he said. “In this case, the first evidence of a problem was myelofibrosis. That ticking time bomb continued until it exploded into leukemia.”
Dr. Caligiuri said the goal of their research will be to develop a device that can rearrange that DNA or block the DNA changes so the disease doesn’t progress to leukemia or, if it does, so “that we can turn it into a chronic condition, not an acute one that’s life-threatening.”
For Ms. Carter, this foundation is one very heartfelt way that she can honor her husband’s legacy.
“When I lost Robert, I was left with so many questions,” she said. “I wanted to understand why rare cancers are so difficult to treat and what research or treatment advances were being made to change that. Robert was never one for self-aggrandizement, but I think he would like this. I think Robert would really be touched by this.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.
When Lynda Carter talks about her late husband Robert Altman, you can sense right away that this was a love affair for the ages.
“As I’ve often said, if you were a friend of Robert’s, you were one of the luckiest people in the world,” said Ms. Carter, the singer-songwriter and actor best known for her role as Wonder Woman in the 1970s TV series, who married Mr. Altman, an attorney, in 1984.
For Ms. Carter, Mr. Altman, and their children, Jessica and James, everything changed in 2017, when Mr. Altman was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, a rare bone marrow disorder – about one case is reported per 100,000 Americans each year – that was found during routine blood work.
“Robert was never sick a day in his life,” she said in an interview. “He skied and swam, and in many ways we were in the prime of our lives together. When he was initially diagnosed, we weren’t even clear what he had. The buzzword was that he had a rare blood disorder, not cancer.”
The family was told to wait and see if the disease would get worse, which it did, unfortunately, at the exact time COVID-19 hit.
This condition can progress from myelofibrosis to secondary acute myeloid leukemia, a rare blood cancer, said Michael Caligiuri, MD, a leading researcher in immunology, lymphoma, and leukemia and president of City of Hope National Medical Center, Duarte, Calif., one of the largest cancer research and treatment organizations in the United States.
“This disease is chronic and slow changing, but when it progresses more acutely to a form of leukemia, it can advance rapidly,” he said.
At the acute phase, there’s not much that can be done for the patient.
“This becomes very much a life-and-death situation,” he said. “You want to hope for the best, but there needs to be an expectation of the worst in terms of trying to prepare the patient and the family for what may come so that they can start to psychologically and legally put the person’s life in order.”
Despite every effort, Mr. Altman died in February 2021 at the age of 73.
The goal: To speed up critical research that will improve early detection and survival for this hard-to-treat blood cancer.
“I’m excited to be a part of this team and to know that I may play a small part in helping other families facing this same diagnosis,” Ms. Carter said. “It’s thrilling seeing the progress these scientists are making, from genomic research into a universe of trillions of codes that might actually become a drug therapy someday.”
With the creation of the foundation, there will be funding to develop better diagnostics and better treatments.
“In many instances, this research will shed light on other related disorders, too,” said Dr. Caligiuri. “Cancer is a disease of the genes, and in most cases, we’re not inheriting from our mothers or fathers, but the DNA gets switched around in one of the trillion cells in our body, the way a word is misspelled.”
What happens next is that the cell doesn’t die.
“Instead, it undergoes a nuclear reaction and grows and grows,” he said. “In this case, the first evidence of a problem was myelofibrosis. That ticking time bomb continued until it exploded into leukemia.”
Dr. Caligiuri said the goal of their research will be to develop a device that can rearrange that DNA or block the DNA changes so the disease doesn’t progress to leukemia or, if it does, so “that we can turn it into a chronic condition, not an acute one that’s life-threatening.”
For Ms. Carter, this foundation is one very heartfelt way that she can honor her husband’s legacy.
“When I lost Robert, I was left with so many questions,” she said. “I wanted to understand why rare cancers are so difficult to treat and what research or treatment advances were being made to change that. Robert was never one for self-aggrandizement, but I think he would like this. I think Robert would really be touched by this.”
A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com.
Flashy, blingy doc sabotages his own malpractice trial in rural farm town
During a medical malpractice trial in New Jersey, jurors waited nearly 4 hours for the physician defendant to show up. When he did arrive, the body-building surgeon was sporting two thick gold chains and a diamond pinky ring, and had the top buttons of his shirt open enough to reveal his chest hair.
“This trial was in a very rural, farming community,” recalls medical liability defense attorney Catherine Flynn, of Flynn Watts LLC, based in Parsippany, N.J. “Many of the jurors were wearing flannel shirts and jeans. The doctor’s wife walked in wearing a five-carat diamond ring and other jewelry.”
Ms. Flynn took the couple aside and asked them to remove the jewelry. She explained that the opulent accessories could damage the jury’s view of the physician. The surgeon and his wife, however, refused to remove their jewelry, she said. They didn’t think it was a big deal.
The case against the surgeon involved intraoperative damage to a patient when the physician inadvertently removed a portion of nerve in the area of the procedure. After repair of the nerve, the patient had a positive result. However, the patient alleged the surgeon’s negligence resulted in permanent damage despite the successful repair.
Jurors ultimately found the physician negligent in the case and awarded the plaintiff $1.2 million. Ms. Flynn believes that physician’s flamboyant attire and arrogant nature tainted the jury’s decision.
“In certain counties in New Jersey, his attire would not have been a problem,” she said. “In this rural, farming county, it was a huge problem. You have to know your audience. There are a lot of other things that come into play in a medical malpractice case, but when it comes to damages in a case, you don’t want to be sending the message that supports what somebody’s bias may already be telling them about a doctor.”
The surgeon appealed the verdict, and the case ultimately settled for a lesser amount, according to Ms. Flynn.
An over-the-top wardrobe is just one way that physicians can negatively influence jurors during legal trials. From subtle facial expressions to sudden outbursts to downright rudeness, attorneys have witnessed countless examples of physicians sabotaging their own trials.
“The minute you enter the courthouse, jurors or potential jurors are sizing you up,” says health law attorney Michael Clark, of Womble Bond Dickinson (US) LLP, based in Houston. “The same phenomenon occurs in a deposition. Awareness of how you are being assessed at all times, and the image that is needed, is important since a negative impression by jurors can have a detrimental effect on a physician’s case.”
Juror: We didn’t like the doctor’s shoes
In another case, attorneys warned a physician defendant against dressing in his signature wardrobe during his trial. Against their advice, the doctor showed up daily to his trial in bright pastel, monochromatic suits with matching Gucci-brand shoes, said medical liability defense attorney Meredith C. Lander, of Kaufman Borgeest & Ryan LLP, based in Connecticut. On the witness stand, the doctor was long-winded and wasn’t “terribly likable,” Ms. Lander said.
However, the evidence weighed in the physician’s favor, and there was strong testimony by defense experts. The physician won the case, Ms. Lander said, but after the verdict, the jury foreperson approached the trial attorney and made some disparaging remarks about the defendant.
“The foreperson said the jury didn’t like the doctor or his ‘Gucci suits and shoes,’ but they believed the experts,” Ms. Lander said.
Disruptive behavior can also harm jurors’ perception of physicians, Ms. Flynn adds. During one instance, a surgeon insisted on sitting next to Ms. Flynn, although she generally requests clients sit in the first row so that jurors are not so focused on their reactions during testimony. The surgeon loudly peppered Ms. Flynn with questions as witnesses testified, prompting a reprimand from the judge.
“The judge admonished the doctor several times and said, ‘Doctor, you’re raising your voice. You’ll get a chance to speak with your attorney during the break,’ ” Ms. Flynn recalled. “The doctor refused to stop talking, and the judge told him in front of the jury to go sit in the back of the courtroom. His reaction was, ‘Why do I have to move?! I need to sit here!’ ”
The surgeon eventually moved to the back of the courtroom and a sheriff’s deputy stood next to him. Testimony continued until a note in the form of a paper airplane landed on the table in front of Ms. Flynn. She carefully crumpled the note and tossed it in the wastebasket. Luckily, this drew a laugh from jurors, she said.
But things got worse when the surgeon testified. Rather than answer the questions, he interrupted and started telling jurors his own version of events.
“The judge finally said, ‘Doctor, if you don’t listen to your attorney and answer her questions, I’m going to make you get off the stand,’ ” Ms. Flynn said. “That was the most unbelievable, egregious self-sabotage trial moment I’ve ever experienced.”
Fortunately, the physician’s legal case was strong, and the experts who testified drove the defense’s side home, Ms. Flynn said. The surgeon won the case.
Attorney: Watch what you say in the elevator
Other, more subtle behaviors – while often unintentional – can also be damaging.
Physicians often let their guard down while outside the courtroom and can unknowingly wind up next to a juror in an elevator or standing in a hallway, said Laura Postilion, a partner at Quintairos, Prieto, Wood & Boyer, P.A., based in Chicago.
“For instance, a doctor is in an elevator and feels that some witness on the stand was lying,” Ms. Postilion said. “They might be very upset about it and start ranting about a witness lying, not realizing there is a juror is in the elevator with you.”
Physicians should also be cautious when speaking on the phone to their family or friends during a trial break.
“At the Daley Center in downtown Chicago, there are these long corridors and long line of windows; a lot of people will stand there during breaks. A doctor may be talking to his or her spouse and saying, ‘Yeah, this juror is sleeping!’ Jurors are [often] looking for drama. They’re looking for somebody letting their guard down. Hearing a doctor speak badly about them would certainly give them a reason to dislike the physician.”
Ms. Postilion warns against talking about jurors in or outside of the courtroom. This includes parking structures, she said.
Physicians can take additional steps to save themselves from negative judgment from jurors, attorneys say. Even before the trial starts, Ms. Postilion advises clients to make their social media accounts private. Some curious jurors may look up a physician’s social media accounts to learn more about their personal life, political leanings, or social beliefs, which could prejudice them against the doctor, she said.
Once on the stand, the words and tone used are key. The last thing a physician defendant wants is to come across as arrogant or condescending to jurors, said medical liability defense attorney Michael Moroney, of Flynn Watts LLC.
“For instance, a defendant might say, ‘Well, let me make this simple for you,’ as if they’re talking to a bunch of schoolchildren,” he said. “You don’t know who’s on the jury. That type of language can be offensive.”
Ms. Lander counsels her clients to refrain from using the common phrase, “honestly,” before answering questions on the stand.
“Everything you’re saying on the stand is presumed to be honest,” she said. “When you start an answer with, ‘Honestly…’ out of habit, it really does undercut everything that follows and everything else that’s already been said. It suggests that you were not being honest in your other answers.”
Attitude, body language speak volumes
Keep in mind that plaintiffs’ attorneys will try their best to rattle physicians on the stand and get them to appear unlikeable, says Mr. Clark, the Houston-based health law attorney. Physicians who lose their cool and begin arguing with attorneys play into their strategy.
“Plaintiffs’ attorneys have been trained in ways to get under their skin,” he said. “Righteous indignation and annoyance are best left for a rare occasion. Think about how you feel in a social setting when people are bickering in front of you. It’s uncomfortable at best. That’s how a jury feels too.”
Body language is also important, Mr. Clark notes. Physicians should avoid crossed arms, leaning back and rocking, or putting a hand on their mouth while testifying, he said. Many attorneys have practice sessions with their clients and record the interaction so that doctors can watch it and see how they look.
“Know your strengths and weaknesses,” he said. “Get help from your lawyer and perhaps consultants about how to improve these skills. Practice and preparation are important.”
Ms. Postilion goes over courtroom clothing with physician clients before trial. Anything “too flashy, too high-end, or too dumpy” should be avoided, she said. Getting accustomed to the courtroom and practicing in an empty courtroom are good ways to ensure that a physician’s voice is loud enough and projecting far enough in the courtroom, she adds.
“The doctor should try to be the best version of him- or herself to jurors,” she said. “A jury can pick up someone who’s trying to be something they’re not. A good attorney can help the doctor find the best version of themselves and capitalize on it. What is it that you want the jury to know about your care of the patient? Take that overall feeling and make sure it’s clearly expressed to the jury.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
During a medical malpractice trial in New Jersey, jurors waited nearly 4 hours for the physician defendant to show up. When he did arrive, the body-building surgeon was sporting two thick gold chains and a diamond pinky ring, and had the top buttons of his shirt open enough to reveal his chest hair.
“This trial was in a very rural, farming community,” recalls medical liability defense attorney Catherine Flynn, of Flynn Watts LLC, based in Parsippany, N.J. “Many of the jurors were wearing flannel shirts and jeans. The doctor’s wife walked in wearing a five-carat diamond ring and other jewelry.”
Ms. Flynn took the couple aside and asked them to remove the jewelry. She explained that the opulent accessories could damage the jury’s view of the physician. The surgeon and his wife, however, refused to remove their jewelry, she said. They didn’t think it was a big deal.
The case against the surgeon involved intraoperative damage to a patient when the physician inadvertently removed a portion of nerve in the area of the procedure. After repair of the nerve, the patient had a positive result. However, the patient alleged the surgeon’s negligence resulted in permanent damage despite the successful repair.
Jurors ultimately found the physician negligent in the case and awarded the plaintiff $1.2 million. Ms. Flynn believes that physician’s flamboyant attire and arrogant nature tainted the jury’s decision.
“In certain counties in New Jersey, his attire would not have been a problem,” she said. “In this rural, farming county, it was a huge problem. You have to know your audience. There are a lot of other things that come into play in a medical malpractice case, but when it comes to damages in a case, you don’t want to be sending the message that supports what somebody’s bias may already be telling them about a doctor.”
The surgeon appealed the verdict, and the case ultimately settled for a lesser amount, according to Ms. Flynn.
An over-the-top wardrobe is just one way that physicians can negatively influence jurors during legal trials. From subtle facial expressions to sudden outbursts to downright rudeness, attorneys have witnessed countless examples of physicians sabotaging their own trials.
“The minute you enter the courthouse, jurors or potential jurors are sizing you up,” says health law attorney Michael Clark, of Womble Bond Dickinson (US) LLP, based in Houston. “The same phenomenon occurs in a deposition. Awareness of how you are being assessed at all times, and the image that is needed, is important since a negative impression by jurors can have a detrimental effect on a physician’s case.”
Juror: We didn’t like the doctor’s shoes
In another case, attorneys warned a physician defendant against dressing in his signature wardrobe during his trial. Against their advice, the doctor showed up daily to his trial in bright pastel, monochromatic suits with matching Gucci-brand shoes, said medical liability defense attorney Meredith C. Lander, of Kaufman Borgeest & Ryan LLP, based in Connecticut. On the witness stand, the doctor was long-winded and wasn’t “terribly likable,” Ms. Lander said.
However, the evidence weighed in the physician’s favor, and there was strong testimony by defense experts. The physician won the case, Ms. Lander said, but after the verdict, the jury foreperson approached the trial attorney and made some disparaging remarks about the defendant.
“The foreperson said the jury didn’t like the doctor or his ‘Gucci suits and shoes,’ but they believed the experts,” Ms. Lander said.
Disruptive behavior can also harm jurors’ perception of physicians, Ms. Flynn adds. During one instance, a surgeon insisted on sitting next to Ms. Flynn, although she generally requests clients sit in the first row so that jurors are not so focused on their reactions during testimony. The surgeon loudly peppered Ms. Flynn with questions as witnesses testified, prompting a reprimand from the judge.
“The judge admonished the doctor several times and said, ‘Doctor, you’re raising your voice. You’ll get a chance to speak with your attorney during the break,’ ” Ms. Flynn recalled. “The doctor refused to stop talking, and the judge told him in front of the jury to go sit in the back of the courtroom. His reaction was, ‘Why do I have to move?! I need to sit here!’ ”
The surgeon eventually moved to the back of the courtroom and a sheriff’s deputy stood next to him. Testimony continued until a note in the form of a paper airplane landed on the table in front of Ms. Flynn. She carefully crumpled the note and tossed it in the wastebasket. Luckily, this drew a laugh from jurors, she said.
But things got worse when the surgeon testified. Rather than answer the questions, he interrupted and started telling jurors his own version of events.
“The judge finally said, ‘Doctor, if you don’t listen to your attorney and answer her questions, I’m going to make you get off the stand,’ ” Ms. Flynn said. “That was the most unbelievable, egregious self-sabotage trial moment I’ve ever experienced.”
Fortunately, the physician’s legal case was strong, and the experts who testified drove the defense’s side home, Ms. Flynn said. The surgeon won the case.
Attorney: Watch what you say in the elevator
Other, more subtle behaviors – while often unintentional – can also be damaging.
Physicians often let their guard down while outside the courtroom and can unknowingly wind up next to a juror in an elevator or standing in a hallway, said Laura Postilion, a partner at Quintairos, Prieto, Wood & Boyer, P.A., based in Chicago.
“For instance, a doctor is in an elevator and feels that some witness on the stand was lying,” Ms. Postilion said. “They might be very upset about it and start ranting about a witness lying, not realizing there is a juror is in the elevator with you.”
Physicians should also be cautious when speaking on the phone to their family or friends during a trial break.
“At the Daley Center in downtown Chicago, there are these long corridors and long line of windows; a lot of people will stand there during breaks. A doctor may be talking to his or her spouse and saying, ‘Yeah, this juror is sleeping!’ Jurors are [often] looking for drama. They’re looking for somebody letting their guard down. Hearing a doctor speak badly about them would certainly give them a reason to dislike the physician.”
Ms. Postilion warns against talking about jurors in or outside of the courtroom. This includes parking structures, she said.
Physicians can take additional steps to save themselves from negative judgment from jurors, attorneys say. Even before the trial starts, Ms. Postilion advises clients to make their social media accounts private. Some curious jurors may look up a physician’s social media accounts to learn more about their personal life, political leanings, or social beliefs, which could prejudice them against the doctor, she said.
Once on the stand, the words and tone used are key. The last thing a physician defendant wants is to come across as arrogant or condescending to jurors, said medical liability defense attorney Michael Moroney, of Flynn Watts LLC.
“For instance, a defendant might say, ‘Well, let me make this simple for you,’ as if they’re talking to a bunch of schoolchildren,” he said. “You don’t know who’s on the jury. That type of language can be offensive.”
Ms. Lander counsels her clients to refrain from using the common phrase, “honestly,” before answering questions on the stand.
“Everything you’re saying on the stand is presumed to be honest,” she said. “When you start an answer with, ‘Honestly…’ out of habit, it really does undercut everything that follows and everything else that’s already been said. It suggests that you were not being honest in your other answers.”
Attitude, body language speak volumes
Keep in mind that plaintiffs’ attorneys will try their best to rattle physicians on the stand and get them to appear unlikeable, says Mr. Clark, the Houston-based health law attorney. Physicians who lose their cool and begin arguing with attorneys play into their strategy.
“Plaintiffs’ attorneys have been trained in ways to get under their skin,” he said. “Righteous indignation and annoyance are best left for a rare occasion. Think about how you feel in a social setting when people are bickering in front of you. It’s uncomfortable at best. That’s how a jury feels too.”
Body language is also important, Mr. Clark notes. Physicians should avoid crossed arms, leaning back and rocking, or putting a hand on their mouth while testifying, he said. Many attorneys have practice sessions with their clients and record the interaction so that doctors can watch it and see how they look.
“Know your strengths and weaknesses,” he said. “Get help from your lawyer and perhaps consultants about how to improve these skills. Practice and preparation are important.”
Ms. Postilion goes over courtroom clothing with physician clients before trial. Anything “too flashy, too high-end, or too dumpy” should be avoided, she said. Getting accustomed to the courtroom and practicing in an empty courtroom are good ways to ensure that a physician’s voice is loud enough and projecting far enough in the courtroom, she adds.
“The doctor should try to be the best version of him- or herself to jurors,” she said. “A jury can pick up someone who’s trying to be something they’re not. A good attorney can help the doctor find the best version of themselves and capitalize on it. What is it that you want the jury to know about your care of the patient? Take that overall feeling and make sure it’s clearly expressed to the jury.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
During a medical malpractice trial in New Jersey, jurors waited nearly 4 hours for the physician defendant to show up. When he did arrive, the body-building surgeon was sporting two thick gold chains and a diamond pinky ring, and had the top buttons of his shirt open enough to reveal his chest hair.
“This trial was in a very rural, farming community,” recalls medical liability defense attorney Catherine Flynn, of Flynn Watts LLC, based in Parsippany, N.J. “Many of the jurors were wearing flannel shirts and jeans. The doctor’s wife walked in wearing a five-carat diamond ring and other jewelry.”
Ms. Flynn took the couple aside and asked them to remove the jewelry. She explained that the opulent accessories could damage the jury’s view of the physician. The surgeon and his wife, however, refused to remove their jewelry, she said. They didn’t think it was a big deal.
The case against the surgeon involved intraoperative damage to a patient when the physician inadvertently removed a portion of nerve in the area of the procedure. After repair of the nerve, the patient had a positive result. However, the patient alleged the surgeon’s negligence resulted in permanent damage despite the successful repair.
Jurors ultimately found the physician negligent in the case and awarded the plaintiff $1.2 million. Ms. Flynn believes that physician’s flamboyant attire and arrogant nature tainted the jury’s decision.
“In certain counties in New Jersey, his attire would not have been a problem,” she said. “In this rural, farming county, it was a huge problem. You have to know your audience. There are a lot of other things that come into play in a medical malpractice case, but when it comes to damages in a case, you don’t want to be sending the message that supports what somebody’s bias may already be telling them about a doctor.”
The surgeon appealed the verdict, and the case ultimately settled for a lesser amount, according to Ms. Flynn.
An over-the-top wardrobe is just one way that physicians can negatively influence jurors during legal trials. From subtle facial expressions to sudden outbursts to downright rudeness, attorneys have witnessed countless examples of physicians sabotaging their own trials.
“The minute you enter the courthouse, jurors or potential jurors are sizing you up,” says health law attorney Michael Clark, of Womble Bond Dickinson (US) LLP, based in Houston. “The same phenomenon occurs in a deposition. Awareness of how you are being assessed at all times, and the image that is needed, is important since a negative impression by jurors can have a detrimental effect on a physician’s case.”
Juror: We didn’t like the doctor’s shoes
In another case, attorneys warned a physician defendant against dressing in his signature wardrobe during his trial. Against their advice, the doctor showed up daily to his trial in bright pastel, monochromatic suits with matching Gucci-brand shoes, said medical liability defense attorney Meredith C. Lander, of Kaufman Borgeest & Ryan LLP, based in Connecticut. On the witness stand, the doctor was long-winded and wasn’t “terribly likable,” Ms. Lander said.
However, the evidence weighed in the physician’s favor, and there was strong testimony by defense experts. The physician won the case, Ms. Lander said, but after the verdict, the jury foreperson approached the trial attorney and made some disparaging remarks about the defendant.
“The foreperson said the jury didn’t like the doctor or his ‘Gucci suits and shoes,’ but they believed the experts,” Ms. Lander said.
Disruptive behavior can also harm jurors’ perception of physicians, Ms. Flynn adds. During one instance, a surgeon insisted on sitting next to Ms. Flynn, although she generally requests clients sit in the first row so that jurors are not so focused on their reactions during testimony. The surgeon loudly peppered Ms. Flynn with questions as witnesses testified, prompting a reprimand from the judge.
“The judge admonished the doctor several times and said, ‘Doctor, you’re raising your voice. You’ll get a chance to speak with your attorney during the break,’ ” Ms. Flynn recalled. “The doctor refused to stop talking, and the judge told him in front of the jury to go sit in the back of the courtroom. His reaction was, ‘Why do I have to move?! I need to sit here!’ ”
The surgeon eventually moved to the back of the courtroom and a sheriff’s deputy stood next to him. Testimony continued until a note in the form of a paper airplane landed on the table in front of Ms. Flynn. She carefully crumpled the note and tossed it in the wastebasket. Luckily, this drew a laugh from jurors, she said.
But things got worse when the surgeon testified. Rather than answer the questions, he interrupted and started telling jurors his own version of events.
“The judge finally said, ‘Doctor, if you don’t listen to your attorney and answer her questions, I’m going to make you get off the stand,’ ” Ms. Flynn said. “That was the most unbelievable, egregious self-sabotage trial moment I’ve ever experienced.”
Fortunately, the physician’s legal case was strong, and the experts who testified drove the defense’s side home, Ms. Flynn said. The surgeon won the case.
Attorney: Watch what you say in the elevator
Other, more subtle behaviors – while often unintentional – can also be damaging.
Physicians often let their guard down while outside the courtroom and can unknowingly wind up next to a juror in an elevator or standing in a hallway, said Laura Postilion, a partner at Quintairos, Prieto, Wood & Boyer, P.A., based in Chicago.
“For instance, a doctor is in an elevator and feels that some witness on the stand was lying,” Ms. Postilion said. “They might be very upset about it and start ranting about a witness lying, not realizing there is a juror is in the elevator with you.”
Physicians should also be cautious when speaking on the phone to their family or friends during a trial break.
“At the Daley Center in downtown Chicago, there are these long corridors and long line of windows; a lot of people will stand there during breaks. A doctor may be talking to his or her spouse and saying, ‘Yeah, this juror is sleeping!’ Jurors are [often] looking for drama. They’re looking for somebody letting their guard down. Hearing a doctor speak badly about them would certainly give them a reason to dislike the physician.”
Ms. Postilion warns against talking about jurors in or outside of the courtroom. This includes parking structures, she said.
Physicians can take additional steps to save themselves from negative judgment from jurors, attorneys say. Even before the trial starts, Ms. Postilion advises clients to make their social media accounts private. Some curious jurors may look up a physician’s social media accounts to learn more about their personal life, political leanings, or social beliefs, which could prejudice them against the doctor, she said.
Once on the stand, the words and tone used are key. The last thing a physician defendant wants is to come across as arrogant or condescending to jurors, said medical liability defense attorney Michael Moroney, of Flynn Watts LLC.
“For instance, a defendant might say, ‘Well, let me make this simple for you,’ as if they’re talking to a bunch of schoolchildren,” he said. “You don’t know who’s on the jury. That type of language can be offensive.”
Ms. Lander counsels her clients to refrain from using the common phrase, “honestly,” before answering questions on the stand.
“Everything you’re saying on the stand is presumed to be honest,” she said. “When you start an answer with, ‘Honestly…’ out of habit, it really does undercut everything that follows and everything else that’s already been said. It suggests that you were not being honest in your other answers.”
Attitude, body language speak volumes
Keep in mind that plaintiffs’ attorneys will try their best to rattle physicians on the stand and get them to appear unlikeable, says Mr. Clark, the Houston-based health law attorney. Physicians who lose their cool and begin arguing with attorneys play into their strategy.
“Plaintiffs’ attorneys have been trained in ways to get under their skin,” he said. “Righteous indignation and annoyance are best left for a rare occasion. Think about how you feel in a social setting when people are bickering in front of you. It’s uncomfortable at best. That’s how a jury feels too.”
Body language is also important, Mr. Clark notes. Physicians should avoid crossed arms, leaning back and rocking, or putting a hand on their mouth while testifying, he said. Many attorneys have practice sessions with their clients and record the interaction so that doctors can watch it and see how they look.
“Know your strengths and weaknesses,” he said. “Get help from your lawyer and perhaps consultants about how to improve these skills. Practice and preparation are important.”
Ms. Postilion goes over courtroom clothing with physician clients before trial. Anything “too flashy, too high-end, or too dumpy” should be avoided, she said. Getting accustomed to the courtroom and practicing in an empty courtroom are good ways to ensure that a physician’s voice is loud enough and projecting far enough in the courtroom, she adds.
“The doctor should try to be the best version of him- or herself to jurors,” she said. “A jury can pick up someone who’s trying to be something they’re not. A good attorney can help the doctor find the best version of themselves and capitalize on it. What is it that you want the jury to know about your care of the patient? Take that overall feeling and make sure it’s clearly expressed to the jury.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
One fish, two fish, are good fish for you ... fish
Good news for pregnant women; bad news for fish
As soon as women find out they’re pregnant, doctors recommend they give up smoking, drinking, and eating certain types of fish. That last item may need to be reconsidered, since a recent study supports the idea that it doesn’t matter what type of fish pregnant women are eating, as long as they’re eating it.
Researchers collected data from two different studies that reviewed the mercury levels of mothers from Bristol, England, and the Seychelles, a island chain off East Africa where “fish consumption is high and prenatal mercury levels are 10 times higher than in the [United States],” they said in NeuroToxicology.
Those data showed that the mercury levels had no adverse effects on child development as long as the mother ate fish. The nutrients and vitamins in the fish – vitamin D, long-chain fatty acids, selenium, and iodine – provide protection against mercury. There’s also the already-known benefits to eyesight and intellectual abilities that have been associated with fish consumption.
This analysis goes starkly against the grain of what is commonly recommended to expectant mothers, which is to cut out fish altogether. The researchers suggested that governments should review and change those recommendations to focus on the benefits instead.
As long as women follow the researchers’ recommendation to eat “at least two portions of fish a week, one of which should be oily,” they may not have to lay off on the sushi after all.
We’ll show our gut worms the world
Never let it be said that mankind is not a generous species. Sure, we could maybe be kinder to our fellow human beings, maybe declare a little less war on each other, but for the past 50,000 years, we’ve been giving a free ride to millions upon millions to one of mankind’s closest companions: the whipworm.
This revelation into human kindness comes from Denmark, where researchers from Copenhagen conducted a genetic analysis of ancient preserved whipworm eggs found in old Viking and Norse settlements, some of which date back over 2,000 years. In normal conditions genetic material wouldn’t last very long, but these were Viking whipworms eggs with tiny little horned helmets, so the DNA within has remained unchanged. Or it may be the tough chitinous exterior of the eggs protecting the DNA from degrading, combined with their preservation in moist soil.
Once they had their Viking whipworm DNA, the researchers compared it with whipworm DNA from all over the world, tracing its history as it followed mankind from Africa. And it’s been a while: We brought whipworms with us during our initial migration into Asia and Europe over 50,000 years ago. When the Bering land bridge opened up and humanity moved into the Americas, the worms came as well.
This is all possible because the whipworm goes about its parasitic business quietly and cleverly. It mostly sits harmlessly in our digestive systems, producing thousands of eggs a day that get expelled through poop and picked up by another host (human or otherwise); whipworms only cause disease in those with compromised immune systems.
The researchers noted that their study, the first complete genetic analysis of the whipworm, could help combat the parasite, which to this day infects hundred of millions who don’t have access to modern medicine or sanitary conditions. Hopefully, though, the days of free rides will soon be over for the whipworm. After all, if we have to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to visit other countries, it’s only fair that our parasites do as well.
From zero to vasectomy in 6.7 seconds
There’s an old saying that you’ve probably heard: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. It’s meant to encourage optimism in the face of adversity. Then there’s the new saying we just made up: When life gives you a power outage, plug your surgical instruments into an electric pickup.
That’s what Dr. Christopher Yang did, and now we’re making the urologist from Austin, Tex., famous by sharing his surgical/electrical adventure with all 17 of LOTME’s regular readers. That’s some serious lemonade.
Dr. Yang’s tale begins when the electricity went out at his clinic, seemingly forcing him to cancel or reschedule several surgical procedures. Not so fast. Dr. Yang happens to own a Rivian R1T, an electric pickup truck that has four power outlets. A staff member suggested plugging the surgical instruments into the truck and, surprisingly, one of the day’s patients agreed to go ahead with his vasectomy.
“We were fortunate that my normal parking spot is close enough to a patient room to run an extension cord,” Dr. Yang said on TheDrive.com. That extension cord was attached to an electrocautery device, with a handheld device available as backup, and “after we were done, I told his family. We all had a good laugh together too,” Dr. Yang told radio station WGLT in Normal, Ill.
To us, anyway, this opens up all sorts of alternative energy possibilities. Can a windmill power a liposuction? Is a gerbil running in a wheel enough to do a colonoscopy? How many potatoes do you need to keep an EHR going?
Learning through random acts of not-exactly noisiness
First things first. Transcranial random noise stimulation (tRNS) is not really noise in the auditory sense of the word. For some people with learning disabilities, though, it can actually be very helpful. The technology, which uses electrodes attached to the head so a weak current can pass through specific parts of the brain, may help those with learning disabilities, perhaps even those with brain injuries and visual deficits, learn, said Dr. Onno van der Groen of Edith Cowan University in Perth, Australia.
“When you add this type of stimulation during learning, you get better performance, faster learning and better attention afterwards as well,” he said in a statement from the university.
The researchers say that tRNS can allow the brain to form new connections and pathways, which in turn help a person learn more effectively. “If you do 10 sessions of a visual perception task with the tRNS and then come back and do it again without it, you’ll find you perform better than the control group who hasn’t used it,” Dr. van der Groen noted.
Can this also work for the average person? It’s possible, but tRNS didn’t seem to improve the math skills of a top-level mathematician who underwent the process, according to a case study that Dr. van der Groen mentioned.
This line of work is still pretty new, though, so researchers don’t have all the answers yet. As always, we’re rooting for you, science!
Good news for pregnant women; bad news for fish
As soon as women find out they’re pregnant, doctors recommend they give up smoking, drinking, and eating certain types of fish. That last item may need to be reconsidered, since a recent study supports the idea that it doesn’t matter what type of fish pregnant women are eating, as long as they’re eating it.
Researchers collected data from two different studies that reviewed the mercury levels of mothers from Bristol, England, and the Seychelles, a island chain off East Africa where “fish consumption is high and prenatal mercury levels are 10 times higher than in the [United States],” they said in NeuroToxicology.
Those data showed that the mercury levels had no adverse effects on child development as long as the mother ate fish. The nutrients and vitamins in the fish – vitamin D, long-chain fatty acids, selenium, and iodine – provide protection against mercury. There’s also the already-known benefits to eyesight and intellectual abilities that have been associated with fish consumption.
This analysis goes starkly against the grain of what is commonly recommended to expectant mothers, which is to cut out fish altogether. The researchers suggested that governments should review and change those recommendations to focus on the benefits instead.
As long as women follow the researchers’ recommendation to eat “at least two portions of fish a week, one of which should be oily,” they may not have to lay off on the sushi after all.
We’ll show our gut worms the world
Never let it be said that mankind is not a generous species. Sure, we could maybe be kinder to our fellow human beings, maybe declare a little less war on each other, but for the past 50,000 years, we’ve been giving a free ride to millions upon millions to one of mankind’s closest companions: the whipworm.
This revelation into human kindness comes from Denmark, where researchers from Copenhagen conducted a genetic analysis of ancient preserved whipworm eggs found in old Viking and Norse settlements, some of which date back over 2,000 years. In normal conditions genetic material wouldn’t last very long, but these were Viking whipworms eggs with tiny little horned helmets, so the DNA within has remained unchanged. Or it may be the tough chitinous exterior of the eggs protecting the DNA from degrading, combined with their preservation in moist soil.
Once they had their Viking whipworm DNA, the researchers compared it with whipworm DNA from all over the world, tracing its history as it followed mankind from Africa. And it’s been a while: We brought whipworms with us during our initial migration into Asia and Europe over 50,000 years ago. When the Bering land bridge opened up and humanity moved into the Americas, the worms came as well.
This is all possible because the whipworm goes about its parasitic business quietly and cleverly. It mostly sits harmlessly in our digestive systems, producing thousands of eggs a day that get expelled through poop and picked up by another host (human or otherwise); whipworms only cause disease in those with compromised immune systems.
The researchers noted that their study, the first complete genetic analysis of the whipworm, could help combat the parasite, which to this day infects hundred of millions who don’t have access to modern medicine or sanitary conditions. Hopefully, though, the days of free rides will soon be over for the whipworm. After all, if we have to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to visit other countries, it’s only fair that our parasites do as well.
From zero to vasectomy in 6.7 seconds
There’s an old saying that you’ve probably heard: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. It’s meant to encourage optimism in the face of adversity. Then there’s the new saying we just made up: When life gives you a power outage, plug your surgical instruments into an electric pickup.
That’s what Dr. Christopher Yang did, and now we’re making the urologist from Austin, Tex., famous by sharing his surgical/electrical adventure with all 17 of LOTME’s regular readers. That’s some serious lemonade.
Dr. Yang’s tale begins when the electricity went out at his clinic, seemingly forcing him to cancel or reschedule several surgical procedures. Not so fast. Dr. Yang happens to own a Rivian R1T, an electric pickup truck that has four power outlets. A staff member suggested plugging the surgical instruments into the truck and, surprisingly, one of the day’s patients agreed to go ahead with his vasectomy.
“We were fortunate that my normal parking spot is close enough to a patient room to run an extension cord,” Dr. Yang said on TheDrive.com. That extension cord was attached to an electrocautery device, with a handheld device available as backup, and “after we were done, I told his family. We all had a good laugh together too,” Dr. Yang told radio station WGLT in Normal, Ill.
To us, anyway, this opens up all sorts of alternative energy possibilities. Can a windmill power a liposuction? Is a gerbil running in a wheel enough to do a colonoscopy? How many potatoes do you need to keep an EHR going?
Learning through random acts of not-exactly noisiness
First things first. Transcranial random noise stimulation (tRNS) is not really noise in the auditory sense of the word. For some people with learning disabilities, though, it can actually be very helpful. The technology, which uses electrodes attached to the head so a weak current can pass through specific parts of the brain, may help those with learning disabilities, perhaps even those with brain injuries and visual deficits, learn, said Dr. Onno van der Groen of Edith Cowan University in Perth, Australia.
“When you add this type of stimulation during learning, you get better performance, faster learning and better attention afterwards as well,” he said in a statement from the university.
The researchers say that tRNS can allow the brain to form new connections and pathways, which in turn help a person learn more effectively. “If you do 10 sessions of a visual perception task with the tRNS and then come back and do it again without it, you’ll find you perform better than the control group who hasn’t used it,” Dr. van der Groen noted.
Can this also work for the average person? It’s possible, but tRNS didn’t seem to improve the math skills of a top-level mathematician who underwent the process, according to a case study that Dr. van der Groen mentioned.
This line of work is still pretty new, though, so researchers don’t have all the answers yet. As always, we’re rooting for you, science!
Good news for pregnant women; bad news for fish
As soon as women find out they’re pregnant, doctors recommend they give up smoking, drinking, and eating certain types of fish. That last item may need to be reconsidered, since a recent study supports the idea that it doesn’t matter what type of fish pregnant women are eating, as long as they’re eating it.
Researchers collected data from two different studies that reviewed the mercury levels of mothers from Bristol, England, and the Seychelles, a island chain off East Africa where “fish consumption is high and prenatal mercury levels are 10 times higher than in the [United States],” they said in NeuroToxicology.
Those data showed that the mercury levels had no adverse effects on child development as long as the mother ate fish. The nutrients and vitamins in the fish – vitamin D, long-chain fatty acids, selenium, and iodine – provide protection against mercury. There’s also the already-known benefits to eyesight and intellectual abilities that have been associated with fish consumption.
This analysis goes starkly against the grain of what is commonly recommended to expectant mothers, which is to cut out fish altogether. The researchers suggested that governments should review and change those recommendations to focus on the benefits instead.
As long as women follow the researchers’ recommendation to eat “at least two portions of fish a week, one of which should be oily,” they may not have to lay off on the sushi after all.
We’ll show our gut worms the world
Never let it be said that mankind is not a generous species. Sure, we could maybe be kinder to our fellow human beings, maybe declare a little less war on each other, but for the past 50,000 years, we’ve been giving a free ride to millions upon millions to one of mankind’s closest companions: the whipworm.
This revelation into human kindness comes from Denmark, where researchers from Copenhagen conducted a genetic analysis of ancient preserved whipworm eggs found in old Viking and Norse settlements, some of which date back over 2,000 years. In normal conditions genetic material wouldn’t last very long, but these were Viking whipworms eggs with tiny little horned helmets, so the DNA within has remained unchanged. Or it may be the tough chitinous exterior of the eggs protecting the DNA from degrading, combined with their preservation in moist soil.
Once they had their Viking whipworm DNA, the researchers compared it with whipworm DNA from all over the world, tracing its history as it followed mankind from Africa. And it’s been a while: We brought whipworms with us during our initial migration into Asia and Europe over 50,000 years ago. When the Bering land bridge opened up and humanity moved into the Americas, the worms came as well.
This is all possible because the whipworm goes about its parasitic business quietly and cleverly. It mostly sits harmlessly in our digestive systems, producing thousands of eggs a day that get expelled through poop and picked up by another host (human or otherwise); whipworms only cause disease in those with compromised immune systems.
The researchers noted that their study, the first complete genetic analysis of the whipworm, could help combat the parasite, which to this day infects hundred of millions who don’t have access to modern medicine or sanitary conditions. Hopefully, though, the days of free rides will soon be over for the whipworm. After all, if we have to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars to visit other countries, it’s only fair that our parasites do as well.
From zero to vasectomy in 6.7 seconds
There’s an old saying that you’ve probably heard: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. It’s meant to encourage optimism in the face of adversity. Then there’s the new saying we just made up: When life gives you a power outage, plug your surgical instruments into an electric pickup.
That’s what Dr. Christopher Yang did, and now we’re making the urologist from Austin, Tex., famous by sharing his surgical/electrical adventure with all 17 of LOTME’s regular readers. That’s some serious lemonade.
Dr. Yang’s tale begins when the electricity went out at his clinic, seemingly forcing him to cancel or reschedule several surgical procedures. Not so fast. Dr. Yang happens to own a Rivian R1T, an electric pickup truck that has four power outlets. A staff member suggested plugging the surgical instruments into the truck and, surprisingly, one of the day’s patients agreed to go ahead with his vasectomy.
“We were fortunate that my normal parking spot is close enough to a patient room to run an extension cord,” Dr. Yang said on TheDrive.com. That extension cord was attached to an electrocautery device, with a handheld device available as backup, and “after we were done, I told his family. We all had a good laugh together too,” Dr. Yang told radio station WGLT in Normal, Ill.
To us, anyway, this opens up all sorts of alternative energy possibilities. Can a windmill power a liposuction? Is a gerbil running in a wheel enough to do a colonoscopy? How many potatoes do you need to keep an EHR going?
Learning through random acts of not-exactly noisiness
First things first. Transcranial random noise stimulation (tRNS) is not really noise in the auditory sense of the word. For some people with learning disabilities, though, it can actually be very helpful. The technology, which uses electrodes attached to the head so a weak current can pass through specific parts of the brain, may help those with learning disabilities, perhaps even those with brain injuries and visual deficits, learn, said Dr. Onno van der Groen of Edith Cowan University in Perth, Australia.
“When you add this type of stimulation during learning, you get better performance, faster learning and better attention afterwards as well,” he said in a statement from the university.
The researchers say that tRNS can allow the brain to form new connections and pathways, which in turn help a person learn more effectively. “If you do 10 sessions of a visual perception task with the tRNS and then come back and do it again without it, you’ll find you perform better than the control group who hasn’t used it,” Dr. van der Groen noted.
Can this also work for the average person? It’s possible, but tRNS didn’t seem to improve the math skills of a top-level mathematician who underwent the process, according to a case study that Dr. van der Groen mentioned.
This line of work is still pretty new, though, so researchers don’t have all the answers yet. As always, we’re rooting for you, science!
Pivotal trials in blood cancers don’t mirror patient populations
, a new study concludes.
“Our analysis shows that, over the past 10 years, participation in pivotal clinical trials investigating therapies for leukemias and MM is unrepresentative of the U.S. population,” say the authors, led by Jorge E. Cortes, MD, of the Georgia Cancer Center at Augusta University, Ga. “Trials should represent the population with the disease,” they comment.
The study was published in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.
“This study confirms that the U.S. cancer population for select hematologic malignancies was inadequately racially and ethnically represented in studies leading to drug approval,” comment the authors of an accompanying editorial.
“The results from this study should lead to questions about the generalizability of drug safety and efficacy in populations we serve as medical hematologists and oncologists,” say Mikkael A. Sekeres, MD, along with Namrata S. Chandhok, MD, both of the division of hematology, Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
They pose the question, for instance, as physicians practicing in South Florida, where most of their patients are Hispanic, “can we apply the results of these pivotal studies – and drug labels – to them, without any sense of whether they metabolize the drug the same way as those included in the study or have the same biologic targets?”
Analysis of pivotal trials
For their study, Dr. Cortes and colleagues analyzed 61 pivotal trials for leukemia and MM leading to approval of the drugs from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration between 2011 and 2021.
They found that only two-thirds (67.2%) of these trials reported data pertaining to race, while about half (48.8%) reported on ethnicity.
The trials that did report data on race involved a total of 13,731 patients. The vast majority (81.6%) were White, and Black patients represented only 3.8%. Asian/Pacific Islanders made up 9.1%, and American Indians or Alaskan Natives made up just 0.12% of participants, with 1.5% categorized as other.
Among the trials reporting on ethnicity, 4.7% of patients were Hispanic, with 11.5% being Hispanic in acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) trials and 7.6% Hispanic in chronic myeloid leukemia (CML) trials.
Slightly more than half (54.8%) of all trial participants were male, and patients’ average ages ranged from 41.7 to 67.3 years across all malignancies.
Of the minority groups, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Black people had the highest representation in trials involving CML, at 12.7% and 5.3%, respectively.
Their lowest representation was in chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), at 3% and 1.1%, respectively.
Among the trials reporting ethnicity, Hispanic people were the highest representation, with percentages ranging from 3.8% of MM trials to 11.5% in ALL trials.
Inconsistent with patient populations
Next, the researchers compared the proportions of race/ethnic groups that were found among the participants of these pivotal trials with the proportions that would be expected in patient populations for each of these blood cancers (according to the U.S. Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results [SEER] database).
For example, White people made up 80.3% of participants in clinical trials of MM, whereas they represent 68.7% of patients with MM, a difference that was statistically significant (P < .0001).
The finding was similar for CML, with White people accounting for 90.5% of participants in clinical trials versus 82.5% of the patient population (P < .0001).
For AML, the difference was smaller, with respective percentages of 79.6 versus 77.3% (P = .0389).
For Black people, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Hispanic people, across all five cancer types that were analyzed, the proportion of participants in clinical trials was significantly lower than the proportion in the patient population.
The analysis also showed that females were overrepresented in clinical trials for two blood cancers. For MM, trial participation was 44.7%, while disease incidence was 41.7% (P < .0001), and for CML the proportions were 44.7% versus 39.5% (P = .0009). However, females were underrepresented in a third blood cancer: in AML, the proportions were 44.7% versus 60.5% (P < .0001).
Geographic location of trials often inaccessible
The study also highlighted an obstacle to minorities participating in clinical trials: geography.
For this analysis, the researchers looked at mortality rates for the various blood cancers.
For AML, they found mortality rates were high across the whole of the United States, but centers conducting AML clinical trials were primarily in the Northeast, with no centers in the Midwest.
Key regions with high rates of AML mortality, low access to trials, and high minority representation were notably clustered in areas including east of the Carolinas, South Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, the authors noted.
“In many instances, trials were absent in areas with high mortality,” they report. “This makes access to clinical trials difficult, if not impossible, to patients who do not have the financial means for travel.”
Further action needed
Racial and ethnic disparities in clinical trials have been widely reported in numerous previous studies, the authors note.
Various initiatives have been launched in recent years to tackle the problem, including the National Institutes of Health Revitalization Act, FDA race and ethnicity guidance, and the International Conference for Harmonization guidance.
For oncology, the American Society of Clinical Oncology has also taken steps with the release of the new Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion Action Plan in 2021 to improve representation of minorities in research.
Dr. Cortes and colleagues suggest another step that is needed is standardized reporting of demographics of clinical trial participants.
“More importantly, efforts to increase representation of minorities and disadvantaged populations in clinical trials should be prioritized,” they say.
Dr. Cortes reports a consulting role and receiving research funding from many pharmaceutical companies. No other coauthors have financial disclosures. Dr. Chandhok reports honoraria from Healio, Clinical Care Options, and a consulting role with Servier. Dr. Sekeres reports a consulting role with Celgene, Millennium, Pfizer, Novartis, Syros Pharmaceuticals, Kurome Therapeutics, and institutional research funding from Takeda, Pfizer, Bristol Myers Squibb, Actuate Therapeutics, Sellas Life Sciences, and Bio-Path Holdings.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
, a new study concludes.
“Our analysis shows that, over the past 10 years, participation in pivotal clinical trials investigating therapies for leukemias and MM is unrepresentative of the U.S. population,” say the authors, led by Jorge E. Cortes, MD, of the Georgia Cancer Center at Augusta University, Ga. “Trials should represent the population with the disease,” they comment.
The study was published in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.
“This study confirms that the U.S. cancer population for select hematologic malignancies was inadequately racially and ethnically represented in studies leading to drug approval,” comment the authors of an accompanying editorial.
“The results from this study should lead to questions about the generalizability of drug safety and efficacy in populations we serve as medical hematologists and oncologists,” say Mikkael A. Sekeres, MD, along with Namrata S. Chandhok, MD, both of the division of hematology, Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
They pose the question, for instance, as physicians practicing in South Florida, where most of their patients are Hispanic, “can we apply the results of these pivotal studies – and drug labels – to them, without any sense of whether they metabolize the drug the same way as those included in the study or have the same biologic targets?”
Analysis of pivotal trials
For their study, Dr. Cortes and colleagues analyzed 61 pivotal trials for leukemia and MM leading to approval of the drugs from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration between 2011 and 2021.
They found that only two-thirds (67.2%) of these trials reported data pertaining to race, while about half (48.8%) reported on ethnicity.
The trials that did report data on race involved a total of 13,731 patients. The vast majority (81.6%) were White, and Black patients represented only 3.8%. Asian/Pacific Islanders made up 9.1%, and American Indians or Alaskan Natives made up just 0.12% of participants, with 1.5% categorized as other.
Among the trials reporting on ethnicity, 4.7% of patients were Hispanic, with 11.5% being Hispanic in acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) trials and 7.6% Hispanic in chronic myeloid leukemia (CML) trials.
Slightly more than half (54.8%) of all trial participants were male, and patients’ average ages ranged from 41.7 to 67.3 years across all malignancies.
Of the minority groups, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Black people had the highest representation in trials involving CML, at 12.7% and 5.3%, respectively.
Their lowest representation was in chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), at 3% and 1.1%, respectively.
Among the trials reporting ethnicity, Hispanic people were the highest representation, with percentages ranging from 3.8% of MM trials to 11.5% in ALL trials.
Inconsistent with patient populations
Next, the researchers compared the proportions of race/ethnic groups that were found among the participants of these pivotal trials with the proportions that would be expected in patient populations for each of these blood cancers (according to the U.S. Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results [SEER] database).
For example, White people made up 80.3% of participants in clinical trials of MM, whereas they represent 68.7% of patients with MM, a difference that was statistically significant (P < .0001).
The finding was similar for CML, with White people accounting for 90.5% of participants in clinical trials versus 82.5% of the patient population (P < .0001).
For AML, the difference was smaller, with respective percentages of 79.6 versus 77.3% (P = .0389).
For Black people, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Hispanic people, across all five cancer types that were analyzed, the proportion of participants in clinical trials was significantly lower than the proportion in the patient population.
The analysis also showed that females were overrepresented in clinical trials for two blood cancers. For MM, trial participation was 44.7%, while disease incidence was 41.7% (P < .0001), and for CML the proportions were 44.7% versus 39.5% (P = .0009). However, females were underrepresented in a third blood cancer: in AML, the proportions were 44.7% versus 60.5% (P < .0001).
Geographic location of trials often inaccessible
The study also highlighted an obstacle to minorities participating in clinical trials: geography.
For this analysis, the researchers looked at mortality rates for the various blood cancers.
For AML, they found mortality rates were high across the whole of the United States, but centers conducting AML clinical trials were primarily in the Northeast, with no centers in the Midwest.
Key regions with high rates of AML mortality, low access to trials, and high minority representation were notably clustered in areas including east of the Carolinas, South Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, the authors noted.
“In many instances, trials were absent in areas with high mortality,” they report. “This makes access to clinical trials difficult, if not impossible, to patients who do not have the financial means for travel.”
Further action needed
Racial and ethnic disparities in clinical trials have been widely reported in numerous previous studies, the authors note.
Various initiatives have been launched in recent years to tackle the problem, including the National Institutes of Health Revitalization Act, FDA race and ethnicity guidance, and the International Conference for Harmonization guidance.
For oncology, the American Society of Clinical Oncology has also taken steps with the release of the new Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion Action Plan in 2021 to improve representation of minorities in research.
Dr. Cortes and colleagues suggest another step that is needed is standardized reporting of demographics of clinical trial participants.
“More importantly, efforts to increase representation of minorities and disadvantaged populations in clinical trials should be prioritized,” they say.
Dr. Cortes reports a consulting role and receiving research funding from many pharmaceutical companies. No other coauthors have financial disclosures. Dr. Chandhok reports honoraria from Healio, Clinical Care Options, and a consulting role with Servier. Dr. Sekeres reports a consulting role with Celgene, Millennium, Pfizer, Novartis, Syros Pharmaceuticals, Kurome Therapeutics, and institutional research funding from Takeda, Pfizer, Bristol Myers Squibb, Actuate Therapeutics, Sellas Life Sciences, and Bio-Path Holdings.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
, a new study concludes.
“Our analysis shows that, over the past 10 years, participation in pivotal clinical trials investigating therapies for leukemias and MM is unrepresentative of the U.S. population,” say the authors, led by Jorge E. Cortes, MD, of the Georgia Cancer Center at Augusta University, Ga. “Trials should represent the population with the disease,” they comment.
The study was published in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.
“This study confirms that the U.S. cancer population for select hematologic malignancies was inadequately racially and ethnically represented in studies leading to drug approval,” comment the authors of an accompanying editorial.
“The results from this study should lead to questions about the generalizability of drug safety and efficacy in populations we serve as medical hematologists and oncologists,” say Mikkael A. Sekeres, MD, along with Namrata S. Chandhok, MD, both of the division of hematology, Sylvester Comprehensive Cancer Center, University of Miami.
They pose the question, for instance, as physicians practicing in South Florida, where most of their patients are Hispanic, “can we apply the results of these pivotal studies – and drug labels – to them, without any sense of whether they metabolize the drug the same way as those included in the study or have the same biologic targets?”
Analysis of pivotal trials
For their study, Dr. Cortes and colleagues analyzed 61 pivotal trials for leukemia and MM leading to approval of the drugs from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration between 2011 and 2021.
They found that only two-thirds (67.2%) of these trials reported data pertaining to race, while about half (48.8%) reported on ethnicity.
The trials that did report data on race involved a total of 13,731 patients. The vast majority (81.6%) were White, and Black patients represented only 3.8%. Asian/Pacific Islanders made up 9.1%, and American Indians or Alaskan Natives made up just 0.12% of participants, with 1.5% categorized as other.
Among the trials reporting on ethnicity, 4.7% of patients were Hispanic, with 11.5% being Hispanic in acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) trials and 7.6% Hispanic in chronic myeloid leukemia (CML) trials.
Slightly more than half (54.8%) of all trial participants were male, and patients’ average ages ranged from 41.7 to 67.3 years across all malignancies.
Of the minority groups, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Black people had the highest representation in trials involving CML, at 12.7% and 5.3%, respectively.
Their lowest representation was in chronic lymphocytic leukemia (CLL), at 3% and 1.1%, respectively.
Among the trials reporting ethnicity, Hispanic people were the highest representation, with percentages ranging from 3.8% of MM trials to 11.5% in ALL trials.
Inconsistent with patient populations
Next, the researchers compared the proportions of race/ethnic groups that were found among the participants of these pivotal trials with the proportions that would be expected in patient populations for each of these blood cancers (according to the U.S. Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results [SEER] database).
For example, White people made up 80.3% of participants in clinical trials of MM, whereas they represent 68.7% of patients with MM, a difference that was statistically significant (P < .0001).
The finding was similar for CML, with White people accounting for 90.5% of participants in clinical trials versus 82.5% of the patient population (P < .0001).
For AML, the difference was smaller, with respective percentages of 79.6 versus 77.3% (P = .0389).
For Black people, Asian/Pacific Islanders and Hispanic people, across all five cancer types that were analyzed, the proportion of participants in clinical trials was significantly lower than the proportion in the patient population.
The analysis also showed that females were overrepresented in clinical trials for two blood cancers. For MM, trial participation was 44.7%, while disease incidence was 41.7% (P < .0001), and for CML the proportions were 44.7% versus 39.5% (P = .0009). However, females were underrepresented in a third blood cancer: in AML, the proportions were 44.7% versus 60.5% (P < .0001).
Geographic location of trials often inaccessible
The study also highlighted an obstacle to minorities participating in clinical trials: geography.
For this analysis, the researchers looked at mortality rates for the various blood cancers.
For AML, they found mortality rates were high across the whole of the United States, but centers conducting AML clinical trials were primarily in the Northeast, with no centers in the Midwest.
Key regions with high rates of AML mortality, low access to trials, and high minority representation were notably clustered in areas including east of the Carolinas, South Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, the authors noted.
“In many instances, trials were absent in areas with high mortality,” they report. “This makes access to clinical trials difficult, if not impossible, to patients who do not have the financial means for travel.”
Further action needed
Racial and ethnic disparities in clinical trials have been widely reported in numerous previous studies, the authors note.
Various initiatives have been launched in recent years to tackle the problem, including the National Institutes of Health Revitalization Act, FDA race and ethnicity guidance, and the International Conference for Harmonization guidance.
For oncology, the American Society of Clinical Oncology has also taken steps with the release of the new Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion Action Plan in 2021 to improve representation of minorities in research.
Dr. Cortes and colleagues suggest another step that is needed is standardized reporting of demographics of clinical trial participants.
“More importantly, efforts to increase representation of minorities and disadvantaged populations in clinical trials should be prioritized,” they say.
Dr. Cortes reports a consulting role and receiving research funding from many pharmaceutical companies. No other coauthors have financial disclosures. Dr. Chandhok reports honoraria from Healio, Clinical Care Options, and a consulting role with Servier. Dr. Sekeres reports a consulting role with Celgene, Millennium, Pfizer, Novartis, Syros Pharmaceuticals, Kurome Therapeutics, and institutional research funding from Takeda, Pfizer, Bristol Myers Squibb, Actuate Therapeutics, Sellas Life Sciences, and Bio-Path Holdings.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
FROM THE JOURNAL OF CLINICAL ONCOLOGY
Blood type linked to higher risk for early onset stroke
Conversely, results from a meta-analysis of nearly 17,000 cases of ischemic stroke in adults younger than 60 years showed that having type O blood reduced the risk for EOS by 12%.
In addition, the associations with risk were significantly stronger in EOS than in those with late-onset stroke (LOS), pointing to a stronger role for prothrombotic factors in younger patients, the researchers noted.
“What this is telling us is that maybe what makes you susceptible to stroke as a young adult is the blood type, which is really giving you a much higher risk of clotting and stroke compared to later onset,” coinvestigator Braxton Mitchell, PhD, professor of medicine and epidemiology and public health at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, said in an interview.
The findings were published online in Neurology.
Strong association
The genome-wide association study (GWAS) was done as part of the Genetics of Early Onset Ischemic Stroke Consortium, a collaboration of 48 different studies across North America, Europe, Japan, Pakistan, and Australia. It assessed early onset ischemic stroke in patients aged 18-59 years.
Researchers included data from 16,927 patients with stroke. Of these, 5,825 had a stroke before age 60, defined as early onset. GWAS results were also examined for nearly 600,000 individuals without stroke.
Results showed two genetic variants tied to blood types A and O emerged as highly associated with risk for early stroke.
Researchers found that the protective effects of type O were significantly stronger with EOS vs. LOS (odds ratio [OR], 0.88 vs. 0.96, respectively; P = .001). Likewise, the association between type A and increased EOS risk was significantly stronger than that found in LOS (OR, 1.16 vs. 1.05; P = .005).
Using polygenic risk scores, the investigators also found that the greater genetic risk for venous thromboembolism, another prothrombotic condition, was more strongly associated with EOS compared with LOS (P = .008).
Previous studies have shown a link between stroke risk and variants of the ABO gene, which determines blood type. The new analysis suggests that type A and O gene variants represent nearly all of those genetically linked with early stroke, the researchers noted.
While the findings point to blood type as a risk factor for stroke in younger people, Dr. Mitchell cautions that “at the moment, blood group does not have implications for preventive care.”
“The risk of stroke due to blood type is smaller than other risk factors that we know about, like smoking and hypertension,” he said. “I would be much more worried about these other risk factors, especially because those may be modifiable.”
He noted the next step in the study is to assess how blood type interacts with other known risk factors to raise stroke risk.
“There may be a subset of people where, if you have blood type A and you have some of these other risk factors, it’s possible that you may be at particularly high risk,” Dr. Mitchell said.
More research needed on younger patients
In an accompanying editorial, Jennifer Juhl Majersik, MD, associate professor of neurology at the University of Utah, Salt Lake City, and Paul Lacaze, PhD, associate professor and head of the public health genomics program at Monash University, Australia, noted that the study fills a gap in stroke research, which often focuses mostly on older individuals.
“In approximately 40% of people with EOS, the stroke is cryptogenic, and there is scant data from clinical trials to guide the selection of preventative strategies in this population, as people with EOS are often excluded from trials,” Dr. Majersik and Dr. Lacaze wrote.
“This work has deepened our understanding of EOS pathophysiology,” they added.
The editorialists noted that future research can build on the results from this analysis, “with the goal of a more precise understanding of stroke pathophysiology, leading to targeted preventative treatments for EOS and a reduction in disability in patients’ most productive years.”
Dr. Mitchell echoed the call for greater inclusion of young patients with stroke in clinical trials.
“As we’re learning, stroke in older folks isn’t the same as stroke in younger people,” he said. “There are many shared risk factors but there are also some that are different ... so there really is a need to include younger people.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Conversely, results from a meta-analysis of nearly 17,000 cases of ischemic stroke in adults younger than 60 years showed that having type O blood reduced the risk for EOS by 12%.
In addition, the associations with risk were significantly stronger in EOS than in those with late-onset stroke (LOS), pointing to a stronger role for prothrombotic factors in younger patients, the researchers noted.
“What this is telling us is that maybe what makes you susceptible to stroke as a young adult is the blood type, which is really giving you a much higher risk of clotting and stroke compared to later onset,” coinvestigator Braxton Mitchell, PhD, professor of medicine and epidemiology and public health at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, said in an interview.
The findings were published online in Neurology.
Strong association
The genome-wide association study (GWAS) was done as part of the Genetics of Early Onset Ischemic Stroke Consortium, a collaboration of 48 different studies across North America, Europe, Japan, Pakistan, and Australia. It assessed early onset ischemic stroke in patients aged 18-59 years.
Researchers included data from 16,927 patients with stroke. Of these, 5,825 had a stroke before age 60, defined as early onset. GWAS results were also examined for nearly 600,000 individuals without stroke.
Results showed two genetic variants tied to blood types A and O emerged as highly associated with risk for early stroke.
Researchers found that the protective effects of type O were significantly stronger with EOS vs. LOS (odds ratio [OR], 0.88 vs. 0.96, respectively; P = .001). Likewise, the association between type A and increased EOS risk was significantly stronger than that found in LOS (OR, 1.16 vs. 1.05; P = .005).
Using polygenic risk scores, the investigators also found that the greater genetic risk for venous thromboembolism, another prothrombotic condition, was more strongly associated with EOS compared with LOS (P = .008).
Previous studies have shown a link between stroke risk and variants of the ABO gene, which determines blood type. The new analysis suggests that type A and O gene variants represent nearly all of those genetically linked with early stroke, the researchers noted.
While the findings point to blood type as a risk factor for stroke in younger people, Dr. Mitchell cautions that “at the moment, blood group does not have implications for preventive care.”
“The risk of stroke due to blood type is smaller than other risk factors that we know about, like smoking and hypertension,” he said. “I would be much more worried about these other risk factors, especially because those may be modifiable.”
He noted the next step in the study is to assess how blood type interacts with other known risk factors to raise stroke risk.
“There may be a subset of people where, if you have blood type A and you have some of these other risk factors, it’s possible that you may be at particularly high risk,” Dr. Mitchell said.
More research needed on younger patients
In an accompanying editorial, Jennifer Juhl Majersik, MD, associate professor of neurology at the University of Utah, Salt Lake City, and Paul Lacaze, PhD, associate professor and head of the public health genomics program at Monash University, Australia, noted that the study fills a gap in stroke research, which often focuses mostly on older individuals.
“In approximately 40% of people with EOS, the stroke is cryptogenic, and there is scant data from clinical trials to guide the selection of preventative strategies in this population, as people with EOS are often excluded from trials,” Dr. Majersik and Dr. Lacaze wrote.
“This work has deepened our understanding of EOS pathophysiology,” they added.
The editorialists noted that future research can build on the results from this analysis, “with the goal of a more precise understanding of stroke pathophysiology, leading to targeted preventative treatments for EOS and a reduction in disability in patients’ most productive years.”
Dr. Mitchell echoed the call for greater inclusion of young patients with stroke in clinical trials.
“As we’re learning, stroke in older folks isn’t the same as stroke in younger people,” he said. “There are many shared risk factors but there are also some that are different ... so there really is a need to include younger people.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Conversely, results from a meta-analysis of nearly 17,000 cases of ischemic stroke in adults younger than 60 years showed that having type O blood reduced the risk for EOS by 12%.
In addition, the associations with risk were significantly stronger in EOS than in those with late-onset stroke (LOS), pointing to a stronger role for prothrombotic factors in younger patients, the researchers noted.
“What this is telling us is that maybe what makes you susceptible to stroke as a young adult is the blood type, which is really giving you a much higher risk of clotting and stroke compared to later onset,” coinvestigator Braxton Mitchell, PhD, professor of medicine and epidemiology and public health at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, said in an interview.
The findings were published online in Neurology.
Strong association
The genome-wide association study (GWAS) was done as part of the Genetics of Early Onset Ischemic Stroke Consortium, a collaboration of 48 different studies across North America, Europe, Japan, Pakistan, and Australia. It assessed early onset ischemic stroke in patients aged 18-59 years.
Researchers included data from 16,927 patients with stroke. Of these, 5,825 had a stroke before age 60, defined as early onset. GWAS results were also examined for nearly 600,000 individuals without stroke.
Results showed two genetic variants tied to blood types A and O emerged as highly associated with risk for early stroke.
Researchers found that the protective effects of type O were significantly stronger with EOS vs. LOS (odds ratio [OR], 0.88 vs. 0.96, respectively; P = .001). Likewise, the association between type A and increased EOS risk was significantly stronger than that found in LOS (OR, 1.16 vs. 1.05; P = .005).
Using polygenic risk scores, the investigators also found that the greater genetic risk for venous thromboembolism, another prothrombotic condition, was more strongly associated with EOS compared with LOS (P = .008).
Previous studies have shown a link between stroke risk and variants of the ABO gene, which determines blood type. The new analysis suggests that type A and O gene variants represent nearly all of those genetically linked with early stroke, the researchers noted.
While the findings point to blood type as a risk factor for stroke in younger people, Dr. Mitchell cautions that “at the moment, blood group does not have implications for preventive care.”
“The risk of stroke due to blood type is smaller than other risk factors that we know about, like smoking and hypertension,” he said. “I would be much more worried about these other risk factors, especially because those may be modifiable.”
He noted the next step in the study is to assess how blood type interacts with other known risk factors to raise stroke risk.
“There may be a subset of people where, if you have blood type A and you have some of these other risk factors, it’s possible that you may be at particularly high risk,” Dr. Mitchell said.
More research needed on younger patients
In an accompanying editorial, Jennifer Juhl Majersik, MD, associate professor of neurology at the University of Utah, Salt Lake City, and Paul Lacaze, PhD, associate professor and head of the public health genomics program at Monash University, Australia, noted that the study fills a gap in stroke research, which often focuses mostly on older individuals.
“In approximately 40% of people with EOS, the stroke is cryptogenic, and there is scant data from clinical trials to guide the selection of preventative strategies in this population, as people with EOS are often excluded from trials,” Dr. Majersik and Dr. Lacaze wrote.
“This work has deepened our understanding of EOS pathophysiology,” they added.
The editorialists noted that future research can build on the results from this analysis, “with the goal of a more precise understanding of stroke pathophysiology, leading to targeted preventative treatments for EOS and a reduction in disability in patients’ most productive years.”
Dr. Mitchell echoed the call for greater inclusion of young patients with stroke in clinical trials.
“As we’re learning, stroke in older folks isn’t the same as stroke in younger people,” he said. “There are many shared risk factors but there are also some that are different ... so there really is a need to include younger people.”
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
FROM NEUROLOGY
Bias and other barriers to HSCT access
For example, at the June 5 plenary session of the American Society of Clinical Oncology, Paul Richardson, MD, presented results of the DETERMINATION trial. More than 40,000 attendees heard his message that, in patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma (MM), up-front high-dose melphalan with autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplant (HSCT) support is associated with a significantly longer median progression-free survival of 67 months, compared with 46 months for patients randomized to delayed transplantation. The 5-year overall survival is similar for both arms.
While I and many of my colleagues in the field of transplantation used this data to strongly encourage MM patients to undergo HSCT as consolidation of their initial remission, others – including many investigators on the DETERMINATION trial – reached a starkly different conclusion. They suggested that delaying transplant was a valid option, since no survival benefit was observed.
Bias, when defined as a prejudice in favor of or against a specific treatment on the part of physicians and patients, has not been carefully studied in the realm of cellular therapies. However, physician and patient perceptions or misperceptions about the value or toxicity of a specific therapy are probably major drivers of whether a patient is referred for and accepts a particular form of treatment. In my specialization, that would mean either a stem cell transplant or other forms of cell therapy.
As with other medical procedures, in my field there are significant disparities in the use of transplantation among patients of different racial, ethnic, and age groups. Rates of both auto- and allo-HSCT are significantly higher for Whites than for African Americans. Hispanic patients have the lowest rates of utilization of auto-HSCT. Patients over the age of 60 have an eightfold risk of nonreferral to an HSCT center. Obviously, these nonreferrals reduce access to HSCT for older patients, particularly if they are seen at nonacademic centers.
One must question whether these disparities are caused by the physicians not believing in the value of transplantation, or simply not understanding its value? Or do they just lack the time to refer patients to a transplant center?
Socioeconomic factors, insurance status, age, and psychosocial characteristics all impact access to HSCT, yet some older patients with fewer economic resources and less insurance coverage still undergo the procedure. Is that because their physicians spent time educating these patients about the potential value of this treatment? Is it because the physicians went the extra mile to get these patients access to HSCT?
Physician preference also plays a significant role in whether a patient receives an allo-HSCT for acute myeloid leukemia and myelodysplastic syndrome. In a large survey of hematologists and oncologists performed by Pidala and colleagues, half of those surveyed agreed with the statement: “I feel the risk (morbidity and mortality) after HSCT is very high.” Most indicated that they “feel outcomes of unrelated donor HCT are much worse than matched sibling HCT.”
More importantly, more than one-third of those surveyed agreed that, “because of the high risks of allogeneic HSCT, I refer only after failure of conventional chemotherapy.” They voiced this opinion despite the fact that mortality rates after HSCT have been reduced significantly. With modern techniques, outcomes of unrelated donors are as good as with sibling donor transplants, and national guidelines strongly recommend that patients get referred before they become refractory to chemotherapy.
What can we do about this problem? Obviously, physician and provider education is important, but primary care physicians and general oncologists are already bombarded daily with new information. Relatively rare conditions like those we treat simply may not get their attention.
Personally, I think one of the most effective ways to overcome bias among physicians would be to target patients through a direct advertising campaign and public service announcements. Only by getting the attention of patients can they be directed to current, accurate information.
This solution could reduce the impact of physician biases or misperceptions and provide patients with greater access to lifesaving cell therapies.
Dr. Giralt is deputy division head of the division of hematologic malignancies at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York.
For example, at the June 5 plenary session of the American Society of Clinical Oncology, Paul Richardson, MD, presented results of the DETERMINATION trial. More than 40,000 attendees heard his message that, in patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma (MM), up-front high-dose melphalan with autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplant (HSCT) support is associated with a significantly longer median progression-free survival of 67 months, compared with 46 months for patients randomized to delayed transplantation. The 5-year overall survival is similar for both arms.
While I and many of my colleagues in the field of transplantation used this data to strongly encourage MM patients to undergo HSCT as consolidation of their initial remission, others – including many investigators on the DETERMINATION trial – reached a starkly different conclusion. They suggested that delaying transplant was a valid option, since no survival benefit was observed.
Bias, when defined as a prejudice in favor of or against a specific treatment on the part of physicians and patients, has not been carefully studied in the realm of cellular therapies. However, physician and patient perceptions or misperceptions about the value or toxicity of a specific therapy are probably major drivers of whether a patient is referred for and accepts a particular form of treatment. In my specialization, that would mean either a stem cell transplant or other forms of cell therapy.
As with other medical procedures, in my field there are significant disparities in the use of transplantation among patients of different racial, ethnic, and age groups. Rates of both auto- and allo-HSCT are significantly higher for Whites than for African Americans. Hispanic patients have the lowest rates of utilization of auto-HSCT. Patients over the age of 60 have an eightfold risk of nonreferral to an HSCT center. Obviously, these nonreferrals reduce access to HSCT for older patients, particularly if they are seen at nonacademic centers.
One must question whether these disparities are caused by the physicians not believing in the value of transplantation, or simply not understanding its value? Or do they just lack the time to refer patients to a transplant center?
Socioeconomic factors, insurance status, age, and psychosocial characteristics all impact access to HSCT, yet some older patients with fewer economic resources and less insurance coverage still undergo the procedure. Is that because their physicians spent time educating these patients about the potential value of this treatment? Is it because the physicians went the extra mile to get these patients access to HSCT?
Physician preference also plays a significant role in whether a patient receives an allo-HSCT for acute myeloid leukemia and myelodysplastic syndrome. In a large survey of hematologists and oncologists performed by Pidala and colleagues, half of those surveyed agreed with the statement: “I feel the risk (morbidity and mortality) after HSCT is very high.” Most indicated that they “feel outcomes of unrelated donor HCT are much worse than matched sibling HCT.”
More importantly, more than one-third of those surveyed agreed that, “because of the high risks of allogeneic HSCT, I refer only after failure of conventional chemotherapy.” They voiced this opinion despite the fact that mortality rates after HSCT have been reduced significantly. With modern techniques, outcomes of unrelated donors are as good as with sibling donor transplants, and national guidelines strongly recommend that patients get referred before they become refractory to chemotherapy.
What can we do about this problem? Obviously, physician and provider education is important, but primary care physicians and general oncologists are already bombarded daily with new information. Relatively rare conditions like those we treat simply may not get their attention.
Personally, I think one of the most effective ways to overcome bias among physicians would be to target patients through a direct advertising campaign and public service announcements. Only by getting the attention of patients can they be directed to current, accurate information.
This solution could reduce the impact of physician biases or misperceptions and provide patients with greater access to lifesaving cell therapies.
Dr. Giralt is deputy division head of the division of hematologic malignancies at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York.
For example, at the June 5 plenary session of the American Society of Clinical Oncology, Paul Richardson, MD, presented results of the DETERMINATION trial. More than 40,000 attendees heard his message that, in patients with newly diagnosed multiple myeloma (MM), up-front high-dose melphalan with autologous hematopoietic stem cell transplant (HSCT) support is associated with a significantly longer median progression-free survival of 67 months, compared with 46 months for patients randomized to delayed transplantation. The 5-year overall survival is similar for both arms.
While I and many of my colleagues in the field of transplantation used this data to strongly encourage MM patients to undergo HSCT as consolidation of their initial remission, others – including many investigators on the DETERMINATION trial – reached a starkly different conclusion. They suggested that delaying transplant was a valid option, since no survival benefit was observed.
Bias, when defined as a prejudice in favor of or against a specific treatment on the part of physicians and patients, has not been carefully studied in the realm of cellular therapies. However, physician and patient perceptions or misperceptions about the value or toxicity of a specific therapy are probably major drivers of whether a patient is referred for and accepts a particular form of treatment. In my specialization, that would mean either a stem cell transplant or other forms of cell therapy.
As with other medical procedures, in my field there are significant disparities in the use of transplantation among patients of different racial, ethnic, and age groups. Rates of both auto- and allo-HSCT are significantly higher for Whites than for African Americans. Hispanic patients have the lowest rates of utilization of auto-HSCT. Patients over the age of 60 have an eightfold risk of nonreferral to an HSCT center. Obviously, these nonreferrals reduce access to HSCT for older patients, particularly if they are seen at nonacademic centers.
One must question whether these disparities are caused by the physicians not believing in the value of transplantation, or simply not understanding its value? Or do they just lack the time to refer patients to a transplant center?
Socioeconomic factors, insurance status, age, and psychosocial characteristics all impact access to HSCT, yet some older patients with fewer economic resources and less insurance coverage still undergo the procedure. Is that because their physicians spent time educating these patients about the potential value of this treatment? Is it because the physicians went the extra mile to get these patients access to HSCT?
Physician preference also plays a significant role in whether a patient receives an allo-HSCT for acute myeloid leukemia and myelodysplastic syndrome. In a large survey of hematologists and oncologists performed by Pidala and colleagues, half of those surveyed agreed with the statement: “I feel the risk (morbidity and mortality) after HSCT is very high.” Most indicated that they “feel outcomes of unrelated donor HCT are much worse than matched sibling HCT.”
More importantly, more than one-third of those surveyed agreed that, “because of the high risks of allogeneic HSCT, I refer only after failure of conventional chemotherapy.” They voiced this opinion despite the fact that mortality rates after HSCT have been reduced significantly. With modern techniques, outcomes of unrelated donors are as good as with sibling donor transplants, and national guidelines strongly recommend that patients get referred before they become refractory to chemotherapy.
What can we do about this problem? Obviously, physician and provider education is important, but primary care physicians and general oncologists are already bombarded daily with new information. Relatively rare conditions like those we treat simply may not get their attention.
Personally, I think one of the most effective ways to overcome bias among physicians would be to target patients through a direct advertising campaign and public service announcements. Only by getting the attention of patients can they be directed to current, accurate information.
This solution could reduce the impact of physician biases or misperceptions and provide patients with greater access to lifesaving cell therapies.
Dr. Giralt is deputy division head of the division of hematologic malignancies at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York.
Real medical news: Many teens trust fake medical news
The kids aren’t alright (at identifying fake news online)
If there’s one thing today’s teenagers are good at, it’s the Internet. What with their TokTiks, Fortnights, and memes whose lifespans are measured in milliseconds, it’s only natural that a contingent of people who have never known a world where the Internet wasn’t omnipresent would be highly skilled at navigating the dense, labyrinthine virtual world and the many falsehoods contained within.
Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been duped, bamboozled, and smeckledorfed. New research from Slovakia suggests the opposite, in fact: Teenagers are just as bad as the rest of us, if not worse, at distinguishing between fake and real online health messaging.
For the study, 300 teenagers aged 16-19 years old were shown a group of messages about the health-promoting effects of fruits and vegetables; these messages were either false, true and neutral, or true with some sort of editing (a clickbait title or grammar mistakes) to mask their trustworthiness. Just under half of the subjects identified and trusted the true neutral messages over fake messages, while 41% couldn’t tell the difference and 11% trusted the fake messages more. In addition, they couldn’t tell the difference between fake and true messages when the content seemed plausible.
In a bit of good news, teenagers were just as likely to trust the edited true messages as the true neutral ones, except in instances when the edited message had a clickbait title. They were much less likely to trust those.
Based on their subjects’ rather poor performance, the study authors suggested teenagers go through health literacy and media literacy training, as well as develop their analytical and scientific reasoning. The LOTME staff rather suspects the study authors have never met a teenager. The only thing teenagers are going to get out of health literacy training is fodder for memes to put up on Myspace. Myspace is still a thing, right? We’re not old, we swear.
Can a computer help deliver babies?
Delivering babies can be a complicated business. Most doctors and midwives rely on their years of experience and training to make certain decisions for mothers in labor, but an artificial intelligence (AI) algorithm could make the entire process easier and safer.
Researchers from the Mayo Clinic recently reported that using an AI to analyze women’s labor patterns was very successful in determining whether a vaginal or cesarean delivery was appropriate.
They examined over 700 factors and over 66,000 deliveries from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development’s multicenter Consortium on Safe Labor database to produce a risk-prediction model that may “provide an alternative to conventional labor charts and promote individualization of clinical decisions using baseline and labor characteristics of each patient,” they said in a written statement from the clinic.
It is hoped that the AI will reduce the risk of possible complications and the costs associated with maternal mortality. The AI also could be a significant tool for doctors and midwives in rural areas to determine when a patient needs to be moved to a location with a higher level of care.
“We believe the algorithm will work in real time, meaning every input of new data during an expectant woman’s labor automatically recalculates the risk of adverse outcome,” said senior author Abimbola Famuyide, MD, of the Mayo Clinic.
If it all works out, many lives and dollars could be saved, thanks to science.
Democracy, meet COVID-19
Everywhere you look, it seems, someone is trying to keep someone else from doing something: Don’t carry a gun. Don’t get an abortion. Don’t drive so fast. Don’t inhale that whipped cream. Don’t get a vaccine. Don’t put that in your mouth.
One of the biggies these days is voting rights. Some people are trying to prevent other people from voting. But why? Well, turns out that turnout can be bad for your health … at least during a worldwide pandemic event.
The evidence for that claim comes from researchers who examined the Italian national constitutional referendum conducted in September 2020 along with elections for assembly representatives in 7 of the country’s 20 regions and for mayors in about 12% of municipalities. The combination mattered: Voter turnout was higher in the municipalities that voted for both the referendum and local elections (69%), compared with municipalities voting only for the referendum (47%), the investigators reported in the Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization.
Also occurring in September of 2020 was, as we mentioned, a worldwide pandemic event. You may have heard about it.
The investigators considered the differences in election turnout between the various municipalities and compared them with new weekly COVID-19 infections at the municipality level. “Our model shows that something as fundamental as casting a vote can come at a cost,” investigator Giuseppe Moscelli, PhD, of the University of Surrey (England) said in a written statement.
What was the cost? Each 1% increase in turnout, they found, amounted to an average 1.1% increase in COVID infections after the elections.
See? More people voting means more COVID, which is bad. Which brings us to today’s lesson in people preventing other people from doing something. Don’t let COVID win. Stay in your house and never come out. And get that smeckledorf out of your mouth. You don’t know where it’s been.
The kids aren’t alright (at identifying fake news online)
If there’s one thing today’s teenagers are good at, it’s the Internet. What with their TokTiks, Fortnights, and memes whose lifespans are measured in milliseconds, it’s only natural that a contingent of people who have never known a world where the Internet wasn’t omnipresent would be highly skilled at navigating the dense, labyrinthine virtual world and the many falsehoods contained within.
Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been duped, bamboozled, and smeckledorfed. New research from Slovakia suggests the opposite, in fact: Teenagers are just as bad as the rest of us, if not worse, at distinguishing between fake and real online health messaging.
For the study, 300 teenagers aged 16-19 years old were shown a group of messages about the health-promoting effects of fruits and vegetables; these messages were either false, true and neutral, or true with some sort of editing (a clickbait title or grammar mistakes) to mask their trustworthiness. Just under half of the subjects identified and trusted the true neutral messages over fake messages, while 41% couldn’t tell the difference and 11% trusted the fake messages more. In addition, they couldn’t tell the difference between fake and true messages when the content seemed plausible.
In a bit of good news, teenagers were just as likely to trust the edited true messages as the true neutral ones, except in instances when the edited message had a clickbait title. They were much less likely to trust those.
Based on their subjects’ rather poor performance, the study authors suggested teenagers go through health literacy and media literacy training, as well as develop their analytical and scientific reasoning. The LOTME staff rather suspects the study authors have never met a teenager. The only thing teenagers are going to get out of health literacy training is fodder for memes to put up on Myspace. Myspace is still a thing, right? We’re not old, we swear.
Can a computer help deliver babies?
Delivering babies can be a complicated business. Most doctors and midwives rely on their years of experience and training to make certain decisions for mothers in labor, but an artificial intelligence (AI) algorithm could make the entire process easier and safer.
Researchers from the Mayo Clinic recently reported that using an AI to analyze women’s labor patterns was very successful in determining whether a vaginal or cesarean delivery was appropriate.
They examined over 700 factors and over 66,000 deliveries from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development’s multicenter Consortium on Safe Labor database to produce a risk-prediction model that may “provide an alternative to conventional labor charts and promote individualization of clinical decisions using baseline and labor characteristics of each patient,” they said in a written statement from the clinic.
It is hoped that the AI will reduce the risk of possible complications and the costs associated with maternal mortality. The AI also could be a significant tool for doctors and midwives in rural areas to determine when a patient needs to be moved to a location with a higher level of care.
“We believe the algorithm will work in real time, meaning every input of new data during an expectant woman’s labor automatically recalculates the risk of adverse outcome,” said senior author Abimbola Famuyide, MD, of the Mayo Clinic.
If it all works out, many lives and dollars could be saved, thanks to science.
Democracy, meet COVID-19
Everywhere you look, it seems, someone is trying to keep someone else from doing something: Don’t carry a gun. Don’t get an abortion. Don’t drive so fast. Don’t inhale that whipped cream. Don’t get a vaccine. Don’t put that in your mouth.
One of the biggies these days is voting rights. Some people are trying to prevent other people from voting. But why? Well, turns out that turnout can be bad for your health … at least during a worldwide pandemic event.
The evidence for that claim comes from researchers who examined the Italian national constitutional referendum conducted in September 2020 along with elections for assembly representatives in 7 of the country’s 20 regions and for mayors in about 12% of municipalities. The combination mattered: Voter turnout was higher in the municipalities that voted for both the referendum and local elections (69%), compared with municipalities voting only for the referendum (47%), the investigators reported in the Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization.
Also occurring in September of 2020 was, as we mentioned, a worldwide pandemic event. You may have heard about it.
The investigators considered the differences in election turnout between the various municipalities and compared them with new weekly COVID-19 infections at the municipality level. “Our model shows that something as fundamental as casting a vote can come at a cost,” investigator Giuseppe Moscelli, PhD, of the University of Surrey (England) said in a written statement.
What was the cost? Each 1% increase in turnout, they found, amounted to an average 1.1% increase in COVID infections after the elections.
See? More people voting means more COVID, which is bad. Which brings us to today’s lesson in people preventing other people from doing something. Don’t let COVID win. Stay in your house and never come out. And get that smeckledorf out of your mouth. You don’t know where it’s been.
The kids aren’t alright (at identifying fake news online)
If there’s one thing today’s teenagers are good at, it’s the Internet. What with their TokTiks, Fortnights, and memes whose lifespans are measured in milliseconds, it’s only natural that a contingent of people who have never known a world where the Internet wasn’t omnipresent would be highly skilled at navigating the dense, labyrinthine virtual world and the many falsehoods contained within.
Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been duped, bamboozled, and smeckledorfed. New research from Slovakia suggests the opposite, in fact: Teenagers are just as bad as the rest of us, if not worse, at distinguishing between fake and real online health messaging.
For the study, 300 teenagers aged 16-19 years old were shown a group of messages about the health-promoting effects of fruits and vegetables; these messages were either false, true and neutral, or true with some sort of editing (a clickbait title or grammar mistakes) to mask their trustworthiness. Just under half of the subjects identified and trusted the true neutral messages over fake messages, while 41% couldn’t tell the difference and 11% trusted the fake messages more. In addition, they couldn’t tell the difference between fake and true messages when the content seemed plausible.
In a bit of good news, teenagers were just as likely to trust the edited true messages as the true neutral ones, except in instances when the edited message had a clickbait title. They were much less likely to trust those.
Based on their subjects’ rather poor performance, the study authors suggested teenagers go through health literacy and media literacy training, as well as develop their analytical and scientific reasoning. The LOTME staff rather suspects the study authors have never met a teenager. The only thing teenagers are going to get out of health literacy training is fodder for memes to put up on Myspace. Myspace is still a thing, right? We’re not old, we swear.
Can a computer help deliver babies?
Delivering babies can be a complicated business. Most doctors and midwives rely on their years of experience and training to make certain decisions for mothers in labor, but an artificial intelligence (AI) algorithm could make the entire process easier and safer.
Researchers from the Mayo Clinic recently reported that using an AI to analyze women’s labor patterns was very successful in determining whether a vaginal or cesarean delivery was appropriate.
They examined over 700 factors and over 66,000 deliveries from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development’s multicenter Consortium on Safe Labor database to produce a risk-prediction model that may “provide an alternative to conventional labor charts and promote individualization of clinical decisions using baseline and labor characteristics of each patient,” they said in a written statement from the clinic.
It is hoped that the AI will reduce the risk of possible complications and the costs associated with maternal mortality. The AI also could be a significant tool for doctors and midwives in rural areas to determine when a patient needs to be moved to a location with a higher level of care.
“We believe the algorithm will work in real time, meaning every input of new data during an expectant woman’s labor automatically recalculates the risk of adverse outcome,” said senior author Abimbola Famuyide, MD, of the Mayo Clinic.
If it all works out, many lives and dollars could be saved, thanks to science.
Democracy, meet COVID-19
Everywhere you look, it seems, someone is trying to keep someone else from doing something: Don’t carry a gun. Don’t get an abortion. Don’t drive so fast. Don’t inhale that whipped cream. Don’t get a vaccine. Don’t put that in your mouth.
One of the biggies these days is voting rights. Some people are trying to prevent other people from voting. But why? Well, turns out that turnout can be bad for your health … at least during a worldwide pandemic event.
The evidence for that claim comes from researchers who examined the Italian national constitutional referendum conducted in September 2020 along with elections for assembly representatives in 7 of the country’s 20 regions and for mayors in about 12% of municipalities. The combination mattered: Voter turnout was higher in the municipalities that voted for both the referendum and local elections (69%), compared with municipalities voting only for the referendum (47%), the investigators reported in the Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization.
Also occurring in September of 2020 was, as we mentioned, a worldwide pandemic event. You may have heard about it.
The investigators considered the differences in election turnout between the various municipalities and compared them with new weekly COVID-19 infections at the municipality level. “Our model shows that something as fundamental as casting a vote can come at a cost,” investigator Giuseppe Moscelli, PhD, of the University of Surrey (England) said in a written statement.
What was the cost? Each 1% increase in turnout, they found, amounted to an average 1.1% increase in COVID infections after the elections.
See? More people voting means more COVID, which is bad. Which brings us to today’s lesson in people preventing other people from doing something. Don’t let COVID win. Stay in your house and never come out. And get that smeckledorf out of your mouth. You don’t know where it’s been.
How do you live with COVID? One doctor’s personal experience
Early in 2020, Anne Peters, MD, caught COVID-19. The author of Medscape’s “Peters on Diabetes” column was sick in March 2020 before state-mandated lockdowns, and well before there were any vaccines.
She remembers sitting in a small exam room with two patients who had flown to her Los Angeles office from New York. The elderly couple had hearing difficulties, so Dr. Peters sat close to them, putting on a continuous glucose monitor. “At that time, we didn’t think of COVID-19 as being in L.A.,” Dr. Peters recalled, “so I think we were not terribly consistent at mask-wearing due to the need to educate.”
“Several days later, I got COVID, but I didn’t know I had COVID per se. I felt crappy, had a terrible sore throat, lost my sense of taste and smell [which was not yet described as a COVID symptom], was completely exhausted, but had no fever or cough, which were the only criteria for getting COVID tested at the time. I didn’t know I had been exposed until 2 weeks later, when the patient’s assistant returned the sensor warning us to ‘be careful’ with it because the patient and his wife were recovering from COVID.”
That early battle with COVID-19 was just the beginning of what would become a 2-year struggle, including familial loss amid her own health problems and concerns about the under-resourced patients she cares for. Here, she shares her journey through the pandemic with this news organization.
Question: Thanks for talking to us. Let’s discuss your journey over these past 2.5 years.
Answer: Everybody has their own COVID story because we all went through this together. Some of us have worse COVID stories, and some of us have better ones, but all have been impacted.
I’m not a sick person. I’m a very healthy person but COVID made me so unwell for 2 years. The brain fog and fatigue were nothing compared to the autonomic neuropathy that affected my heart. It was really limiting for me. And I still don’t know the long-term implications, looking 20-30 years from now.
Q: When you initially had COVID, what were your symptoms? What was the impact?
A: I had all the symptoms of COVID, except for a cough and fever. I lost my sense of taste and smell. I had a horrible headache, a sore throat, and I was exhausted. I couldn’t get tested because I didn’t have the right symptoms.
Despite being sick, I never stopped working but just switched to telemedicine. I also took my regular monthly trip to our cabin in Montana. I unknowingly flew on a plane with COVID. I wore a well-fitted N95 mask, so I don’t think I gave anybody COVID. I didn’t give COVID to my partner, Eric, which is hard to believe as – at 77 – he’s older than me. He has diabetes, heart disease, and every other high-risk characteristic. If he’d gotten COVID back then, it would have been terrible, as there were no treatments, but luckily he didn’t get it.
Q: When were you officially diagnosed?
A: Two or 3 months after I thought I might have had COVID, I checked my antibodies, which tested strongly positive for a prior COVID infection. That was when I knew all the symptoms I’d had were due to the disease.
Q: Not only were you dealing with your own illness, but also that of those close to you. Can you talk about that?
A: In April 2020, my mother who was in her 90s and otherwise healthy except for dementia, got COVID. She could have gotten it from me. I visited often but wore a mask. She had all the horrible pulmonary symptoms. In her advance directive, she didn’t want to be hospitalized so I kept her in her home. She died from COVID in her own bed. It was fairly brutal, but at least I kept her where she felt comforted.
My 91-year-old dad was living in a different residential facility. Throughout COVID he had become very depressed because his social patterns had changed. Prior to COVID, they all ate together, but during the pandemic they were unable to. He missed his social connections, disliked being isolated in his room, hated everyone in masks.
He was a bit demented, but not so much that he couldn’t communicate with me or remember where his grandson was going to law school. I wasn’t allowed inside the facility, which was hard on him. I hadn’t told him his wife died because the hospice social workers advised me that I shouldn’t give him news that he couldn’t process readily until I could spend time with him. Unfortunately, that time never came. In December 2020, he got COVID. One of the people in that facility had gone to the hospital, came back, and tested negative, but actually had COVID and gave it to my dad. The guy who gave it to my dad didn’t die but my dad was terribly ill. He died 2 weeks short of getting his vaccine. He was coherent enough to have a conversation. I asked him: ‘Do you want to go to the hospital?’ And he said: ‘No, because it would be too scary,’ since he couldn’t be with me. I put him on hospice and held his hand as he died from pulmonary COVID, which was awful. I couldn’t give him enough morphine or valium to ease his breathing. But his last words to me were “I love you,” and at the very end he seemed peaceful, which was a blessing.
I got an autopsy, because he wanted one. Nothing else was wrong with him other than COVID. It destroyed his lungs. The rest of him was fine – no heart disease, cancer, or anything else. He died of COVID-19, the same as my mother.
That same week, my aunt, my only surviving older relative, who was in Des Moines, Iowa, died of COVID-19. All three family members died before the vaccine came out.
It was hard to lose my parents. I’m the only surviving child because my sister died in her 20s. It’s not been an easy pandemic. But what pandemic is easy? I just happened to have lost more people than most. Ironically, my grandfather was one of the legionnaires at the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel in Philadelphia in 1976 and died of Legionnaire’s disease before we knew what was causing the outbreak.
Q: Were you still struggling with COVID?
A: COVID impacted my whole body. I lost a lot of weight. I didn’t want to eat, and my gastrointestinal system was not happy. It took a while for my sense of taste and smell to come back. Nothing tasted good. I’m not a foodie; I don’t really care about food. We could get takeout or whatever, but none of it appealed to me. I’m not so sure it was a taste thing, I just didn’t feel like eating.
I didn’t realize I had “brain fog” per se, because I felt stressed and overwhelmed by the pandemic and my patients’ concerns. But one day, about 3 months after I had developed COVID, I woke up without the fog. Which made me aware that I hadn’t been feeling right up until that point.
The worst symptoms, however, were cardiac. I noticed also immediately that my heart rate went up very quickly with minimal exertion. My pulse has always been in the 55-60 bpm range, and suddenly just walking across a room made it go up to over 140 bpm. If I did any aerobic activity, it went up over 160 and would be associated with dyspnea and chest pain. I believed these were all post-COVID symptoms and felt validated when reports of others having similar issues were published in the literature.
Q: Did you continue seeing patients?
A: Yes, of course. Patients never needed their doctors more. In East L.A., where patients don’t have easy access to telemedicine, I kept going into clinic throughout the pandemic. In the more affluent Westside of Los Angeles, we switched to telemedicine, which was quite effective for most. However, because diabetes was associated with an increased risk of hospitalization and death from COVID, my patients were understandably afraid. I’ve never been busier, but (like all health care providers), I became more of a COVID provider than a diabetologist.
Q: Do you feel your battle with COVID impacted your work?
A: It didn’t affect me at work. If I was sitting still, I was fine. Sitting at home at a desk, I didn’t notice any symptoms. But as a habitual stair-user, I would be gasping for breath in the stairwell because I couldn’t go up the stairs to my office as I once could.
I think you empathize more with people who had COVID (when you’ve had it yourself). There was such a huge patient burden. And I think that’s been the thing that’s affected health care providers the most – no matter what specialty we’re in – that nobody has answers.
Q: What happened after you had your vaccine?
A: The vaccine itself was fine. I didn’t have any reaction to the first two doses. But the first booster made my cardiac issues worse.
By this point, my cardiac problems stopped me from exercising. I even went to the ER with chest pain once because I was having palpitations and chest pressure caused by simply taking my morning shower. Fortunately, I wasn’t having an MI, but I certainly wasn’t “normal.”
My measure of my fitness is the cross-country skiing trail I use in Montana. I know exactly how far I can ski. Usually I can do the loop in 35 minutes. After COVID, I lasted 10 minutes. I would be tachycardic, short of breath with chest pain radiating down my left arm. I would rest and try to keep going. But with each rest period, I only got worse. I would be laying in the snow and strangers would ask if I needed help.
Q: What helped you?
A: I’ve read a lot about long COVID and have tried to learn from the experts. Of course, I never went to a doctor directly, although I did ask colleagues for advice. What I learned was to never push myself. I forced myself to create an exercise schedule where I only exercised three times a week with rest days in between. When exercising, the second my heart rate went above 140 bpm, I stopped until I could get it back down. I would push against this new limit, even though my limit was low.
Additionally, I worked on my breathing patterns and did meditative breathing for 10 minutes twice daily using a commercially available app.
Although progress was slow, I did improve, and by June 2022, I seemed back to normal. I was not as fit as I was prior to COVID and needed to improve, but the tachycardic response to exercise and cardiac symptoms were gone. I felt like my normal self. Normal enough to go on a spot packing trip in the Sierras in August. (Horses carried us and a mule carried the gear over the 12,000-foot pass into the mountains, and then left my friend and me high in the Sierras for a week.) We were camped above 10,000 feet and every day hiked up to another high mountain lake where we fly-fished for trout that we ate for dinner. The hikes were a challenge, but not abnormally so. Not as they would have been while I had long COVID.
Q: What is the current atmosphere in your clinic?
A: COVID is much milder now in my vaccinated patients, but I feel most health care providers are exhausted. Many of my staff left when COVID hit because they didn’t want to keep working. It made practicing medicine exhausting. There’s been a shortage of nurses, a shortage of everything. We’ve been required to do a whole lot more than we ever did before. It’s much harder to be a doctor. This pandemic is the first time I’ve ever thought of quitting. Granted, I lost my whole family, or at least the older generation, but it’s just been almost overwhelming.
On the plus side, almost every one of my patients has been vaccinated, because early on, people would ask: “Do you trust this vaccine?” I would reply: “I saw my parents die from COVID when they weren’t vaccinated, so you’re getting vaccinated. This is real and the vaccines help.” It made me very good at convincing people to get vaccines because I knew what it was like to see someone dying from COVID up close.
Q: What advice do you have for those struggling with the COVID pandemic?
A: People need to decide what their own risk is for getting sick and how many times they want to get COVID. At this point, I want people to go out, but safely. In the beginning, when my patients said, “can I go visit my granddaughter?” I said, “no,” but that was before we had the vaccine. Now I feel it is safe to go out using common sense. I still have my patients wear masks on planes. I still have patients try to eat outside as much as possible. And I tell people to take the precautions that make sense, but I tell them to go out and do things because life is short.
I had a patient in his 70s who has many risk factors like heart disease and diabetes. His granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah in Florida was coming up. He asked: “Can I go?” I told him “Yes,” but to be safe – to wear an N95 mask on the plane and at the event, and stay in his own hotel room, rather than with the whole family. I said, “You need to do this.” Earlier in the pandemic, I saw people who literally died from loneliness and isolation.
He and his wife flew there. He sent me a picture of himself with his granddaughter. When he returned, he showed me a handwritten note from her that said, “I love you so much. Everyone else canceled, which made me cry. You’re the only one who came. You have no idea how much this meant to me.”
He’s back in L.A., and he didn’t get COVID. He said, “It was the best thing I’ve done in years.” That’s what I need to help people with, navigating this world with COVID and assessing risks and benefits. As with all of medicine, my advice is individualized. My advice changes based on the major circulating variant and the rates of the virus in the population, as well as the risk factors of the individual.
Q: What are you doing now?
A: I’m trying to avoid getting COVID again, or another booster. I could get pre-exposure monoclonal antibodies but am waiting to do anything further until I see what happens over the fall and winter. I still wear a mask inside but now do a mix of in-person and telemedicine visits. I still try to go to outdoor restaurants, which is easy in California. But I’m flying to see my son in New York and plan to go to Europe this fall for a meeting. I also go to my cabin in Montana every month to get my “dose” of the wilderness. Overall, I travel for conferences and speaking engagements much less because I have learned the joy of staying home.
Thinking back on my life as a doctor, my career began as an intern at Stanford rotating through Ward 5B, the AIDS unit at San Francisco General Hospital, and will likely end with COVID. In spite of all our medical advances, my generation of physicians, much as many generations before us, has a front-row seat to the vulnerability of humans to infectious diseases and how far we still need to go to protect our patients from communicable illness.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Anne L. Peters, MD, is a professor of medicine at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles, and director of the USC clinical diabetes programs. She has published more than 200 articles, reviews, and abstracts; three books on diabetes; and has been an investigator for more than 40 research studies. She has spoken internationally at over 400 programs and serves on many committees of several professional organizations.
Early in 2020, Anne Peters, MD, caught COVID-19. The author of Medscape’s “Peters on Diabetes” column was sick in March 2020 before state-mandated lockdowns, and well before there were any vaccines.
She remembers sitting in a small exam room with two patients who had flown to her Los Angeles office from New York. The elderly couple had hearing difficulties, so Dr. Peters sat close to them, putting on a continuous glucose monitor. “At that time, we didn’t think of COVID-19 as being in L.A.,” Dr. Peters recalled, “so I think we were not terribly consistent at mask-wearing due to the need to educate.”
“Several days later, I got COVID, but I didn’t know I had COVID per se. I felt crappy, had a terrible sore throat, lost my sense of taste and smell [which was not yet described as a COVID symptom], was completely exhausted, but had no fever or cough, which were the only criteria for getting COVID tested at the time. I didn’t know I had been exposed until 2 weeks later, when the patient’s assistant returned the sensor warning us to ‘be careful’ with it because the patient and his wife were recovering from COVID.”
That early battle with COVID-19 was just the beginning of what would become a 2-year struggle, including familial loss amid her own health problems and concerns about the under-resourced patients she cares for. Here, she shares her journey through the pandemic with this news organization.
Question: Thanks for talking to us. Let’s discuss your journey over these past 2.5 years.
Answer: Everybody has their own COVID story because we all went through this together. Some of us have worse COVID stories, and some of us have better ones, but all have been impacted.
I’m not a sick person. I’m a very healthy person but COVID made me so unwell for 2 years. The brain fog and fatigue were nothing compared to the autonomic neuropathy that affected my heart. It was really limiting for me. And I still don’t know the long-term implications, looking 20-30 years from now.
Q: When you initially had COVID, what were your symptoms? What was the impact?
A: I had all the symptoms of COVID, except for a cough and fever. I lost my sense of taste and smell. I had a horrible headache, a sore throat, and I was exhausted. I couldn’t get tested because I didn’t have the right symptoms.
Despite being sick, I never stopped working but just switched to telemedicine. I also took my regular monthly trip to our cabin in Montana. I unknowingly flew on a plane with COVID. I wore a well-fitted N95 mask, so I don’t think I gave anybody COVID. I didn’t give COVID to my partner, Eric, which is hard to believe as – at 77 – he’s older than me. He has diabetes, heart disease, and every other high-risk characteristic. If he’d gotten COVID back then, it would have been terrible, as there were no treatments, but luckily he didn’t get it.
Q: When were you officially diagnosed?
A: Two or 3 months after I thought I might have had COVID, I checked my antibodies, which tested strongly positive for a prior COVID infection. That was when I knew all the symptoms I’d had were due to the disease.
Q: Not only were you dealing with your own illness, but also that of those close to you. Can you talk about that?
A: In April 2020, my mother who was in her 90s and otherwise healthy except for dementia, got COVID. She could have gotten it from me. I visited often but wore a mask. She had all the horrible pulmonary symptoms. In her advance directive, she didn’t want to be hospitalized so I kept her in her home. She died from COVID in her own bed. It was fairly brutal, but at least I kept her where she felt comforted.
My 91-year-old dad was living in a different residential facility. Throughout COVID he had become very depressed because his social patterns had changed. Prior to COVID, they all ate together, but during the pandemic they were unable to. He missed his social connections, disliked being isolated in his room, hated everyone in masks.
He was a bit demented, but not so much that he couldn’t communicate with me or remember where his grandson was going to law school. I wasn’t allowed inside the facility, which was hard on him. I hadn’t told him his wife died because the hospice social workers advised me that I shouldn’t give him news that he couldn’t process readily until I could spend time with him. Unfortunately, that time never came. In December 2020, he got COVID. One of the people in that facility had gone to the hospital, came back, and tested negative, but actually had COVID and gave it to my dad. The guy who gave it to my dad didn’t die but my dad was terribly ill. He died 2 weeks short of getting his vaccine. He was coherent enough to have a conversation. I asked him: ‘Do you want to go to the hospital?’ And he said: ‘No, because it would be too scary,’ since he couldn’t be with me. I put him on hospice and held his hand as he died from pulmonary COVID, which was awful. I couldn’t give him enough morphine or valium to ease his breathing. But his last words to me were “I love you,” and at the very end he seemed peaceful, which was a blessing.
I got an autopsy, because he wanted one. Nothing else was wrong with him other than COVID. It destroyed his lungs. The rest of him was fine – no heart disease, cancer, or anything else. He died of COVID-19, the same as my mother.
That same week, my aunt, my only surviving older relative, who was in Des Moines, Iowa, died of COVID-19. All three family members died before the vaccine came out.
It was hard to lose my parents. I’m the only surviving child because my sister died in her 20s. It’s not been an easy pandemic. But what pandemic is easy? I just happened to have lost more people than most. Ironically, my grandfather was one of the legionnaires at the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel in Philadelphia in 1976 and died of Legionnaire’s disease before we knew what was causing the outbreak.
Q: Were you still struggling with COVID?
A: COVID impacted my whole body. I lost a lot of weight. I didn’t want to eat, and my gastrointestinal system was not happy. It took a while for my sense of taste and smell to come back. Nothing tasted good. I’m not a foodie; I don’t really care about food. We could get takeout or whatever, but none of it appealed to me. I’m not so sure it was a taste thing, I just didn’t feel like eating.
I didn’t realize I had “brain fog” per se, because I felt stressed and overwhelmed by the pandemic and my patients’ concerns. But one day, about 3 months after I had developed COVID, I woke up without the fog. Which made me aware that I hadn’t been feeling right up until that point.
The worst symptoms, however, were cardiac. I noticed also immediately that my heart rate went up very quickly with minimal exertion. My pulse has always been in the 55-60 bpm range, and suddenly just walking across a room made it go up to over 140 bpm. If I did any aerobic activity, it went up over 160 and would be associated with dyspnea and chest pain. I believed these were all post-COVID symptoms and felt validated when reports of others having similar issues were published in the literature.
Q: Did you continue seeing patients?
A: Yes, of course. Patients never needed their doctors more. In East L.A., where patients don’t have easy access to telemedicine, I kept going into clinic throughout the pandemic. In the more affluent Westside of Los Angeles, we switched to telemedicine, which was quite effective for most. However, because diabetes was associated with an increased risk of hospitalization and death from COVID, my patients were understandably afraid. I’ve never been busier, but (like all health care providers), I became more of a COVID provider than a diabetologist.
Q: Do you feel your battle with COVID impacted your work?
A: It didn’t affect me at work. If I was sitting still, I was fine. Sitting at home at a desk, I didn’t notice any symptoms. But as a habitual stair-user, I would be gasping for breath in the stairwell because I couldn’t go up the stairs to my office as I once could.
I think you empathize more with people who had COVID (when you’ve had it yourself). There was such a huge patient burden. And I think that’s been the thing that’s affected health care providers the most – no matter what specialty we’re in – that nobody has answers.
Q: What happened after you had your vaccine?
A: The vaccine itself was fine. I didn’t have any reaction to the first two doses. But the first booster made my cardiac issues worse.
By this point, my cardiac problems stopped me from exercising. I even went to the ER with chest pain once because I was having palpitations and chest pressure caused by simply taking my morning shower. Fortunately, I wasn’t having an MI, but I certainly wasn’t “normal.”
My measure of my fitness is the cross-country skiing trail I use in Montana. I know exactly how far I can ski. Usually I can do the loop in 35 minutes. After COVID, I lasted 10 minutes. I would be tachycardic, short of breath with chest pain radiating down my left arm. I would rest and try to keep going. But with each rest period, I only got worse. I would be laying in the snow and strangers would ask if I needed help.
Q: What helped you?
A: I’ve read a lot about long COVID and have tried to learn from the experts. Of course, I never went to a doctor directly, although I did ask colleagues for advice. What I learned was to never push myself. I forced myself to create an exercise schedule where I only exercised three times a week with rest days in between. When exercising, the second my heart rate went above 140 bpm, I stopped until I could get it back down. I would push against this new limit, even though my limit was low.
Additionally, I worked on my breathing patterns and did meditative breathing for 10 minutes twice daily using a commercially available app.
Although progress was slow, I did improve, and by June 2022, I seemed back to normal. I was not as fit as I was prior to COVID and needed to improve, but the tachycardic response to exercise and cardiac symptoms were gone. I felt like my normal self. Normal enough to go on a spot packing trip in the Sierras in August. (Horses carried us and a mule carried the gear over the 12,000-foot pass into the mountains, and then left my friend and me high in the Sierras for a week.) We were camped above 10,000 feet and every day hiked up to another high mountain lake where we fly-fished for trout that we ate for dinner. The hikes were a challenge, but not abnormally so. Not as they would have been while I had long COVID.
Q: What is the current atmosphere in your clinic?
A: COVID is much milder now in my vaccinated patients, but I feel most health care providers are exhausted. Many of my staff left when COVID hit because they didn’t want to keep working. It made practicing medicine exhausting. There’s been a shortage of nurses, a shortage of everything. We’ve been required to do a whole lot more than we ever did before. It’s much harder to be a doctor. This pandemic is the first time I’ve ever thought of quitting. Granted, I lost my whole family, or at least the older generation, but it’s just been almost overwhelming.
On the plus side, almost every one of my patients has been vaccinated, because early on, people would ask: “Do you trust this vaccine?” I would reply: “I saw my parents die from COVID when they weren’t vaccinated, so you’re getting vaccinated. This is real and the vaccines help.” It made me very good at convincing people to get vaccines because I knew what it was like to see someone dying from COVID up close.
Q: What advice do you have for those struggling with the COVID pandemic?
A: People need to decide what their own risk is for getting sick and how many times they want to get COVID. At this point, I want people to go out, but safely. In the beginning, when my patients said, “can I go visit my granddaughter?” I said, “no,” but that was before we had the vaccine. Now I feel it is safe to go out using common sense. I still have my patients wear masks on planes. I still have patients try to eat outside as much as possible. And I tell people to take the precautions that make sense, but I tell them to go out and do things because life is short.
I had a patient in his 70s who has many risk factors like heart disease and diabetes. His granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah in Florida was coming up. He asked: “Can I go?” I told him “Yes,” but to be safe – to wear an N95 mask on the plane and at the event, and stay in his own hotel room, rather than with the whole family. I said, “You need to do this.” Earlier in the pandemic, I saw people who literally died from loneliness and isolation.
He and his wife flew there. He sent me a picture of himself with his granddaughter. When he returned, he showed me a handwritten note from her that said, “I love you so much. Everyone else canceled, which made me cry. You’re the only one who came. You have no idea how much this meant to me.”
He’s back in L.A., and he didn’t get COVID. He said, “It was the best thing I’ve done in years.” That’s what I need to help people with, navigating this world with COVID and assessing risks and benefits. As with all of medicine, my advice is individualized. My advice changes based on the major circulating variant and the rates of the virus in the population, as well as the risk factors of the individual.
Q: What are you doing now?
A: I’m trying to avoid getting COVID again, or another booster. I could get pre-exposure monoclonal antibodies but am waiting to do anything further until I see what happens over the fall and winter. I still wear a mask inside but now do a mix of in-person and telemedicine visits. I still try to go to outdoor restaurants, which is easy in California. But I’m flying to see my son in New York and plan to go to Europe this fall for a meeting. I also go to my cabin in Montana every month to get my “dose” of the wilderness. Overall, I travel for conferences and speaking engagements much less because I have learned the joy of staying home.
Thinking back on my life as a doctor, my career began as an intern at Stanford rotating through Ward 5B, the AIDS unit at San Francisco General Hospital, and will likely end with COVID. In spite of all our medical advances, my generation of physicians, much as many generations before us, has a front-row seat to the vulnerability of humans to infectious diseases and how far we still need to go to protect our patients from communicable illness.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Anne L. Peters, MD, is a professor of medicine at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles, and director of the USC clinical diabetes programs. She has published more than 200 articles, reviews, and abstracts; three books on diabetes; and has been an investigator for more than 40 research studies. She has spoken internationally at over 400 programs and serves on many committees of several professional organizations.
Early in 2020, Anne Peters, MD, caught COVID-19. The author of Medscape’s “Peters on Diabetes” column was sick in March 2020 before state-mandated lockdowns, and well before there were any vaccines.
She remembers sitting in a small exam room with two patients who had flown to her Los Angeles office from New York. The elderly couple had hearing difficulties, so Dr. Peters sat close to them, putting on a continuous glucose monitor. “At that time, we didn’t think of COVID-19 as being in L.A.,” Dr. Peters recalled, “so I think we were not terribly consistent at mask-wearing due to the need to educate.”
“Several days later, I got COVID, but I didn’t know I had COVID per se. I felt crappy, had a terrible sore throat, lost my sense of taste and smell [which was not yet described as a COVID symptom], was completely exhausted, but had no fever or cough, which were the only criteria for getting COVID tested at the time. I didn’t know I had been exposed until 2 weeks later, when the patient’s assistant returned the sensor warning us to ‘be careful’ with it because the patient and his wife were recovering from COVID.”
That early battle with COVID-19 was just the beginning of what would become a 2-year struggle, including familial loss amid her own health problems and concerns about the under-resourced patients she cares for. Here, she shares her journey through the pandemic with this news organization.
Question: Thanks for talking to us. Let’s discuss your journey over these past 2.5 years.
Answer: Everybody has their own COVID story because we all went through this together. Some of us have worse COVID stories, and some of us have better ones, but all have been impacted.
I’m not a sick person. I’m a very healthy person but COVID made me so unwell for 2 years. The brain fog and fatigue were nothing compared to the autonomic neuropathy that affected my heart. It was really limiting for me. And I still don’t know the long-term implications, looking 20-30 years from now.
Q: When you initially had COVID, what were your symptoms? What was the impact?
A: I had all the symptoms of COVID, except for a cough and fever. I lost my sense of taste and smell. I had a horrible headache, a sore throat, and I was exhausted. I couldn’t get tested because I didn’t have the right symptoms.
Despite being sick, I never stopped working but just switched to telemedicine. I also took my regular monthly trip to our cabin in Montana. I unknowingly flew on a plane with COVID. I wore a well-fitted N95 mask, so I don’t think I gave anybody COVID. I didn’t give COVID to my partner, Eric, which is hard to believe as – at 77 – he’s older than me. He has diabetes, heart disease, and every other high-risk characteristic. If he’d gotten COVID back then, it would have been terrible, as there were no treatments, but luckily he didn’t get it.
Q: When were you officially diagnosed?
A: Two or 3 months after I thought I might have had COVID, I checked my antibodies, which tested strongly positive for a prior COVID infection. That was when I knew all the symptoms I’d had were due to the disease.
Q: Not only were you dealing with your own illness, but also that of those close to you. Can you talk about that?
A: In April 2020, my mother who was in her 90s and otherwise healthy except for dementia, got COVID. She could have gotten it from me. I visited often but wore a mask. She had all the horrible pulmonary symptoms. In her advance directive, she didn’t want to be hospitalized so I kept her in her home. She died from COVID in her own bed. It was fairly brutal, but at least I kept her where she felt comforted.
My 91-year-old dad was living in a different residential facility. Throughout COVID he had become very depressed because his social patterns had changed. Prior to COVID, they all ate together, but during the pandemic they were unable to. He missed his social connections, disliked being isolated in his room, hated everyone in masks.
He was a bit demented, but not so much that he couldn’t communicate with me or remember where his grandson was going to law school. I wasn’t allowed inside the facility, which was hard on him. I hadn’t told him his wife died because the hospice social workers advised me that I shouldn’t give him news that he couldn’t process readily until I could spend time with him. Unfortunately, that time never came. In December 2020, he got COVID. One of the people in that facility had gone to the hospital, came back, and tested negative, but actually had COVID and gave it to my dad. The guy who gave it to my dad didn’t die but my dad was terribly ill. He died 2 weeks short of getting his vaccine. He was coherent enough to have a conversation. I asked him: ‘Do you want to go to the hospital?’ And he said: ‘No, because it would be too scary,’ since he couldn’t be with me. I put him on hospice and held his hand as he died from pulmonary COVID, which was awful. I couldn’t give him enough morphine or valium to ease his breathing. But his last words to me were “I love you,” and at the very end he seemed peaceful, which was a blessing.
I got an autopsy, because he wanted one. Nothing else was wrong with him other than COVID. It destroyed his lungs. The rest of him was fine – no heart disease, cancer, or anything else. He died of COVID-19, the same as my mother.
That same week, my aunt, my only surviving older relative, who was in Des Moines, Iowa, died of COVID-19. All three family members died before the vaccine came out.
It was hard to lose my parents. I’m the only surviving child because my sister died in her 20s. It’s not been an easy pandemic. But what pandemic is easy? I just happened to have lost more people than most. Ironically, my grandfather was one of the legionnaires at the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel in Philadelphia in 1976 and died of Legionnaire’s disease before we knew what was causing the outbreak.
Q: Were you still struggling with COVID?
A: COVID impacted my whole body. I lost a lot of weight. I didn’t want to eat, and my gastrointestinal system was not happy. It took a while for my sense of taste and smell to come back. Nothing tasted good. I’m not a foodie; I don’t really care about food. We could get takeout or whatever, but none of it appealed to me. I’m not so sure it was a taste thing, I just didn’t feel like eating.
I didn’t realize I had “brain fog” per se, because I felt stressed and overwhelmed by the pandemic and my patients’ concerns. But one day, about 3 months after I had developed COVID, I woke up without the fog. Which made me aware that I hadn’t been feeling right up until that point.
The worst symptoms, however, were cardiac. I noticed also immediately that my heart rate went up very quickly with minimal exertion. My pulse has always been in the 55-60 bpm range, and suddenly just walking across a room made it go up to over 140 bpm. If I did any aerobic activity, it went up over 160 and would be associated with dyspnea and chest pain. I believed these were all post-COVID symptoms and felt validated when reports of others having similar issues were published in the literature.
Q: Did you continue seeing patients?
A: Yes, of course. Patients never needed their doctors more. In East L.A., where patients don’t have easy access to telemedicine, I kept going into clinic throughout the pandemic. In the more affluent Westside of Los Angeles, we switched to telemedicine, which was quite effective for most. However, because diabetes was associated with an increased risk of hospitalization and death from COVID, my patients were understandably afraid. I’ve never been busier, but (like all health care providers), I became more of a COVID provider than a diabetologist.
Q: Do you feel your battle with COVID impacted your work?
A: It didn’t affect me at work. If I was sitting still, I was fine. Sitting at home at a desk, I didn’t notice any symptoms. But as a habitual stair-user, I would be gasping for breath in the stairwell because I couldn’t go up the stairs to my office as I once could.
I think you empathize more with people who had COVID (when you’ve had it yourself). There was such a huge patient burden. And I think that’s been the thing that’s affected health care providers the most – no matter what specialty we’re in – that nobody has answers.
Q: What happened after you had your vaccine?
A: The vaccine itself was fine. I didn’t have any reaction to the first two doses. But the first booster made my cardiac issues worse.
By this point, my cardiac problems stopped me from exercising. I even went to the ER with chest pain once because I was having palpitations and chest pressure caused by simply taking my morning shower. Fortunately, I wasn’t having an MI, but I certainly wasn’t “normal.”
My measure of my fitness is the cross-country skiing trail I use in Montana. I know exactly how far I can ski. Usually I can do the loop in 35 minutes. After COVID, I lasted 10 minutes. I would be tachycardic, short of breath with chest pain radiating down my left arm. I would rest and try to keep going. But with each rest period, I only got worse. I would be laying in the snow and strangers would ask if I needed help.
Q: What helped you?
A: I’ve read a lot about long COVID and have tried to learn from the experts. Of course, I never went to a doctor directly, although I did ask colleagues for advice. What I learned was to never push myself. I forced myself to create an exercise schedule where I only exercised three times a week with rest days in between. When exercising, the second my heart rate went above 140 bpm, I stopped until I could get it back down. I would push against this new limit, even though my limit was low.
Additionally, I worked on my breathing patterns and did meditative breathing for 10 minutes twice daily using a commercially available app.
Although progress was slow, I did improve, and by June 2022, I seemed back to normal. I was not as fit as I was prior to COVID and needed to improve, but the tachycardic response to exercise and cardiac symptoms were gone. I felt like my normal self. Normal enough to go on a spot packing trip in the Sierras in August. (Horses carried us and a mule carried the gear over the 12,000-foot pass into the mountains, and then left my friend and me high in the Sierras for a week.) We were camped above 10,000 feet and every day hiked up to another high mountain lake where we fly-fished for trout that we ate for dinner. The hikes were a challenge, but not abnormally so. Not as they would have been while I had long COVID.
Q: What is the current atmosphere in your clinic?
A: COVID is much milder now in my vaccinated patients, but I feel most health care providers are exhausted. Many of my staff left when COVID hit because they didn’t want to keep working. It made practicing medicine exhausting. There’s been a shortage of nurses, a shortage of everything. We’ve been required to do a whole lot more than we ever did before. It’s much harder to be a doctor. This pandemic is the first time I’ve ever thought of quitting. Granted, I lost my whole family, or at least the older generation, but it’s just been almost overwhelming.
On the plus side, almost every one of my patients has been vaccinated, because early on, people would ask: “Do you trust this vaccine?” I would reply: “I saw my parents die from COVID when they weren’t vaccinated, so you’re getting vaccinated. This is real and the vaccines help.” It made me very good at convincing people to get vaccines because I knew what it was like to see someone dying from COVID up close.
Q: What advice do you have for those struggling with the COVID pandemic?
A: People need to decide what their own risk is for getting sick and how many times they want to get COVID. At this point, I want people to go out, but safely. In the beginning, when my patients said, “can I go visit my granddaughter?” I said, “no,” but that was before we had the vaccine. Now I feel it is safe to go out using common sense. I still have my patients wear masks on planes. I still have patients try to eat outside as much as possible. And I tell people to take the precautions that make sense, but I tell them to go out and do things because life is short.
I had a patient in his 70s who has many risk factors like heart disease and diabetes. His granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah in Florida was coming up. He asked: “Can I go?” I told him “Yes,” but to be safe – to wear an N95 mask on the plane and at the event, and stay in his own hotel room, rather than with the whole family. I said, “You need to do this.” Earlier in the pandemic, I saw people who literally died from loneliness and isolation.
He and his wife flew there. He sent me a picture of himself with his granddaughter. When he returned, he showed me a handwritten note from her that said, “I love you so much. Everyone else canceled, which made me cry. You’re the only one who came. You have no idea how much this meant to me.”
He’s back in L.A., and he didn’t get COVID. He said, “It was the best thing I’ve done in years.” That’s what I need to help people with, navigating this world with COVID and assessing risks and benefits. As with all of medicine, my advice is individualized. My advice changes based on the major circulating variant and the rates of the virus in the population, as well as the risk factors of the individual.
Q: What are you doing now?
A: I’m trying to avoid getting COVID again, or another booster. I could get pre-exposure monoclonal antibodies but am waiting to do anything further until I see what happens over the fall and winter. I still wear a mask inside but now do a mix of in-person and telemedicine visits. I still try to go to outdoor restaurants, which is easy in California. But I’m flying to see my son in New York and plan to go to Europe this fall for a meeting. I also go to my cabin in Montana every month to get my “dose” of the wilderness. Overall, I travel for conferences and speaking engagements much less because I have learned the joy of staying home.
Thinking back on my life as a doctor, my career began as an intern at Stanford rotating through Ward 5B, the AIDS unit at San Francisco General Hospital, and will likely end with COVID. In spite of all our medical advances, my generation of physicians, much as many generations before us, has a front-row seat to the vulnerability of humans to infectious diseases and how far we still need to go to protect our patients from communicable illness.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Anne L. Peters, MD, is a professor of medicine at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles, and director of the USC clinical diabetes programs. She has published more than 200 articles, reviews, and abstracts; three books on diabetes; and has been an investigator for more than 40 research studies. She has spoken internationally at over 400 programs and serves on many committees of several professional organizations.