Infectious Disease Practitioner

A new article in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism (JCEM) addresses unique concerns and considerations regarding diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) in the setting of COVID-19.

Corresponding author Marie E. McDonnell, MD, director of the diabetes program at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Boston, Massachusetts, discussed the recommendations with Medscape Medical News and also spoke about the news this week that the corticosteroid dexamethasone reduced death rates in severely ill patients with COVID-19.

The full JCEM article, by lead author Nadine E. Palermo, DO, Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Hypertension, also at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, covers DKA diagnosis and triage, and emphasizes that usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 to help preserve personal protective equipment and ICU beds.

“Hospitals and clinicians need to be able to quickly identify and manage DKA in COVID patients to save lives. This involves determining the options for management, including when less intensive subcutaneous insulin is indicated, and understanding how to guide patients on avoiding this serious complication,” McDonnell said in an Endocrine Society statement.
 

What about dexamethasone for severe COVID-19 in diabetes?

The new article briefly touches on the fact that upward adjustments to intensive intravenous insulin therapy for DKA may be necessary in patients with COVID-19 who are receiving concomitant corticosteroids or vasopressors.

But it was written prior to the June 16 announcement of the “RECOVERY” trial results with dexamethasone. The UK National Health Service immediately approved the drug’s use in the COVID-19 setting, despite the fact that there has been no published article on the findings yet.

McDonnell told Medscape Medical News that she would need to see formal results to better understand exactly which patients were studied and which ones benefited.

“The peer review will be critical. It looks as if it only benefits people who need respiratory support, but I want to understand that in much more detail,” she said. “If they all had acute respiratory distress syndrome [ARDS],” that’s different.

“There are already some data supporting steroid use in ARDS,” she noted, but added that not all of it suggests benefit.

She pointed to one of several studies now showing that diabetes, and hyperglycemia among people without a prior diabetes diagnosis, are both strong predictors of mortality in hospitalized patients with COVID-19.

“There was a very clear relationship between hyperglycemia and outcomes. We really shouldn’t put people at risk until we have clear data,” she said.

If, once the data are reviewed and appropriate dexamethasone becomes an established treatment for severe COVID-19, hyperglycemia would be a concern among all patients, not just those with previously diagnosed diabetes, she noted.

“We know a good number of people with prediabetes develop hyperglycemia when put on steroids. They can push people over the edge. We’re not going to miss anybody, but treating steroid-induced hyperglycemia is really hard,” McDonnell explained.

She also recommended 2014 guidance from Diabetes UK and the Association of British Clinical Diabetologists, which addresses management of inpatient steroid-induced DKA in patients with and without pre-existing diabetes.

Another major concern, she said, is “patients trying to get dexamethasone when they start to get sick” because this is not the right population to use this agent.

“We worry about people who do not need this drug. If they have diabetes, they put themselves at risk of hyperglycemia, which then increases the risk of severe COVID-19. And then they’re also putting themselves at risk of DKA. It would just be bad medicine,” she said.

Managing DKA in the face of COVID-19: Flexibility is key

In the JCEM article, Palermo and colleagues emphasize that the usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 in the interest of reducing transmission risk and preserving scare resources.

They provide evidence for alternative treatment strategies, such as the use of subcutaneous rather than intravenous insulin when appropriate.

“We wanted to outline when exactly you should consider nonintensive management strategies for DKA,” McDonnell further explained to Medscape Medical News.

“That would include those with mild or some with moderate DKA. ... The idea is to remind our colleagues about that because hospitals tend to operate on a protocol-driven algorithmic methodology, they can forget to step off the usual care pathway even if evidence supports that,” she said.   

But on the other hand, she also said that, in some very complex or severely ill patients with COVID-19, classical intravenous insulin therapy makes the most sense even if their DKA is mild.
 

The outpatient setting: Prevention and preparation

The new article also addresses several concerns regarding DKA prevention in the outpatient setting.

As with other guidelines, it includes a reminder that patients with diabetes should be advised to discontinue sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors if they become ill with COVID-19, especially if they’re not eating or drinking normally, because they raise the risk for DKA.

Also, for patients with type 1 diabetes, particularly those with a history of repeated DKA, “this is the time to make sure we reach out to patients to refill their insulin prescriptions and address issues related to cost and other access difficulties,” McDonnell said.

The authors also emphasize that insulin starts and education should not be postponed during the pandemic. “Patients identified as meeting criteria to start insulin should be referred for urgent education, either in person or, whenever possible and practical, via video teleconferencing,” they urge.

McDonnell has reported receiving research funding from Novo Nordisk. The other two authors have reported no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new article in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism (JCEM) addresses unique concerns and considerations regarding diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) in the setting of COVID-19.

Corresponding author Marie E. McDonnell, MD, director of the diabetes program at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Boston, Massachusetts, discussed the recommendations with Medscape Medical News and also spoke about the news this week that the corticosteroid dexamethasone reduced death rates in severely ill patients with COVID-19.

The full JCEM article, by lead author Nadine E. Palermo, DO, Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Hypertension, also at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, covers DKA diagnosis and triage, and emphasizes that usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 to help preserve personal protective equipment and ICU beds.

“Hospitals and clinicians need to be able to quickly identify and manage DKA in COVID patients to save lives. This involves determining the options for management, including when less intensive subcutaneous insulin is indicated, and understanding how to guide patients on avoiding this serious complication,” McDonnell said in an Endocrine Society statement.
 

What about dexamethasone for severe COVID-19 in diabetes?

The new article briefly touches on the fact that upward adjustments to intensive intravenous insulin therapy for DKA may be necessary in patients with COVID-19 who are receiving concomitant corticosteroids or vasopressors.

But it was written prior to the June 16 announcement of the “RECOVERY” trial results with dexamethasone. The UK National Health Service immediately approved the drug’s use in the COVID-19 setting, despite the fact that there has been no published article on the findings yet.

McDonnell told Medscape Medical News that she would need to see formal results to better understand exactly which patients were studied and which ones benefited.

“The peer review will be critical. It looks as if it only benefits people who need respiratory support, but I want to understand that in much more detail,” she said. “If they all had acute respiratory distress syndrome [ARDS],” that’s different.

“There are already some data supporting steroid use in ARDS,” she noted, but added that not all of it suggests benefit.

She pointed to one of several studies now showing that diabetes, and hyperglycemia among people without a prior diabetes diagnosis, are both strong predictors of mortality in hospitalized patients with COVID-19.

“There was a very clear relationship between hyperglycemia and outcomes. We really shouldn’t put people at risk until we have clear data,” she said.

If, once the data are reviewed and appropriate dexamethasone becomes an established treatment for severe COVID-19, hyperglycemia would be a concern among all patients, not just those with previously diagnosed diabetes, she noted.

“We know a good number of people with prediabetes develop hyperglycemia when put on steroids. They can push people over the edge. We’re not going to miss anybody, but treating steroid-induced hyperglycemia is really hard,” McDonnell explained.

She also recommended 2014 guidance from Diabetes UK and the Association of British Clinical Diabetologists, which addresses management of inpatient steroid-induced DKA in patients with and without pre-existing diabetes.

Another major concern, she said, is “patients trying to get dexamethasone when they start to get sick” because this is not the right population to use this agent.

“We worry about people who do not need this drug. If they have diabetes, they put themselves at risk of hyperglycemia, which then increases the risk of severe COVID-19. And then they’re also putting themselves at risk of DKA. It would just be bad medicine,” she said.

Managing DKA in the face of COVID-19: Flexibility is key

In the JCEM article, Palermo and colleagues emphasize that the usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 in the interest of reducing transmission risk and preserving scare resources.

They provide evidence for alternative treatment strategies, such as the use of subcutaneous rather than intravenous insulin when appropriate.

“We wanted to outline when exactly you should consider nonintensive management strategies for DKA,” McDonnell further explained to Medscape Medical News.

“That would include those with mild or some with moderate DKA. ... The idea is to remind our colleagues about that because hospitals tend to operate on a protocol-driven algorithmic methodology, they can forget to step off the usual care pathway even if evidence supports that,” she said.   

But on the other hand, she also said that, in some very complex or severely ill patients with COVID-19, classical intravenous insulin therapy makes the most sense even if their DKA is mild.
 

The outpatient setting: Prevention and preparation

The new article also addresses several concerns regarding DKA prevention in the outpatient setting.

As with other guidelines, it includes a reminder that patients with diabetes should be advised to discontinue sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors if they become ill with COVID-19, especially if they’re not eating or drinking normally, because they raise the risk for DKA.

Also, for patients with type 1 diabetes, particularly those with a history of repeated DKA, “this is the time to make sure we reach out to patients to refill their insulin prescriptions and address issues related to cost and other access difficulties,” McDonnell said.

The authors also emphasize that insulin starts and education should not be postponed during the pandemic. “Patients identified as meeting criteria to start insulin should be referred for urgent education, either in person or, whenever possible and practical, via video teleconferencing,” they urge.

McDonnell has reported receiving research funding from Novo Nordisk. The other two authors have reported no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new article in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism (JCEM) addresses unique concerns and considerations regarding diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) in the setting of COVID-19.

Corresponding author Marie E. McDonnell, MD, director of the diabetes program at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, Boston, Massachusetts, discussed the recommendations with Medscape Medical News and also spoke about the news this week that the corticosteroid dexamethasone reduced death rates in severely ill patients with COVID-19.

The full JCEM article, by lead author Nadine E. Palermo, DO, Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Hypertension, also at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, covers DKA diagnosis and triage, and emphasizes that usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 to help preserve personal protective equipment and ICU beds.

“Hospitals and clinicians need to be able to quickly identify and manage DKA in COVID patients to save lives. This involves determining the options for management, including when less intensive subcutaneous insulin is indicated, and understanding how to guide patients on avoiding this serious complication,” McDonnell said in an Endocrine Society statement.
 

What about dexamethasone for severe COVID-19 in diabetes?

The new article briefly touches on the fact that upward adjustments to intensive intravenous insulin therapy for DKA may be necessary in patients with COVID-19 who are receiving concomitant corticosteroids or vasopressors.

But it was written prior to the June 16 announcement of the “RECOVERY” trial results with dexamethasone. The UK National Health Service immediately approved the drug’s use in the COVID-19 setting, despite the fact that there has been no published article on the findings yet.

McDonnell told Medscape Medical News that she would need to see formal results to better understand exactly which patients were studied and which ones benefited.

“The peer review will be critical. It looks as if it only benefits people who need respiratory support, but I want to understand that in much more detail,” she said. “If they all had acute respiratory distress syndrome [ARDS],” that’s different.

“There are already some data supporting steroid use in ARDS,” she noted, but added that not all of it suggests benefit.

She pointed to one of several studies now showing that diabetes, and hyperglycemia among people without a prior diabetes diagnosis, are both strong predictors of mortality in hospitalized patients with COVID-19.

“There was a very clear relationship between hyperglycemia and outcomes. We really shouldn’t put people at risk until we have clear data,” she said.

If, once the data are reviewed and appropriate dexamethasone becomes an established treatment for severe COVID-19, hyperglycemia would be a concern among all patients, not just those with previously diagnosed diabetes, she noted.

“We know a good number of people with prediabetes develop hyperglycemia when put on steroids. They can push people over the edge. We’re not going to miss anybody, but treating steroid-induced hyperglycemia is really hard,” McDonnell explained.

She also recommended 2014 guidance from Diabetes UK and the Association of British Clinical Diabetologists, which addresses management of inpatient steroid-induced DKA in patients with and without pre-existing diabetes.

Another major concern, she said, is “patients trying to get dexamethasone when they start to get sick” because this is not the right population to use this agent.

“We worry about people who do not need this drug. If they have diabetes, they put themselves at risk of hyperglycemia, which then increases the risk of severe COVID-19. And then they’re also putting themselves at risk of DKA. It would just be bad medicine,” she said.

Managing DKA in the face of COVID-19: Flexibility is key

In the JCEM article, Palermo and colleagues emphasize that the usual hospital protocols for DKA management may need to be adjusted during COVID-19 in the interest of reducing transmission risk and preserving scare resources.

They provide evidence for alternative treatment strategies, such as the use of subcutaneous rather than intravenous insulin when appropriate.

“We wanted to outline when exactly you should consider nonintensive management strategies for DKA,” McDonnell further explained to Medscape Medical News.

“That would include those with mild or some with moderate DKA. ... The idea is to remind our colleagues about that because hospitals tend to operate on a protocol-driven algorithmic methodology, they can forget to step off the usual care pathway even if evidence supports that,” she said.   

But on the other hand, she also said that, in some very complex or severely ill patients with COVID-19, classical intravenous insulin therapy makes the most sense even if their DKA is mild.
 

The outpatient setting: Prevention and preparation

The new article also addresses several concerns regarding DKA prevention in the outpatient setting.

As with other guidelines, it includes a reminder that patients with diabetes should be advised to discontinue sodium-glucose cotransporter 2 (SGLT2) inhibitors if they become ill with COVID-19, especially if they’re not eating or drinking normally, because they raise the risk for DKA.

Also, for patients with type 1 diabetes, particularly those with a history of repeated DKA, “this is the time to make sure we reach out to patients to refill their insulin prescriptions and address issues related to cost and other access difficulties,” McDonnell said.

The authors also emphasize that insulin starts and education should not be postponed during the pandemic. “Patients identified as meeting criteria to start insulin should be referred for urgent education, either in person or, whenever possible and practical, via video teleconferencing,” they urge.

McDonnell has reported receiving research funding from Novo Nordisk. The other two authors have reported no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Here are the stories our MDedge editors across specialties think you need to know about today:

A ‘Fraternity of People Who Are Struggling’

Kathleen Ronan spent a week in a New Jersey hospital, including 5 days in the ICU, battling the novel coronavirus.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, 51, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article. “It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her. Read more.

The evolution of ‘COVIDists’

At the start of the pandemic earlier this year hospitalists at Baystate Health in Western Massachusetts realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. Challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of PPE, an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected. Hospitalists there came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively.

A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them. The group underwent rapid training in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials.

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. Read more.

How low should you go?

Cardiovascular risk continues to reduce as systolic blood pressure decreases right down to levels as low as 90 mm Hg, according to a new study.

Researchers analyzed data from a cohort of 1,457 participants (mean age, 58 years) who did not have any traditional cardiovascular risk factors and had a systolic blood pressure level between 90 and 129 mm Hg at baseline. Results showed that, during a mean follow-up of 14.5 years, there was an increase in traditional cardiovascular risk factors, coronary artery calcium, and incident cardiovascular events with increasing systolic blood pressure levels.

“We modeled systolic blood pressure on a continuous scale and saw the risk increasing in a linear fashion as blood pressure increased and this occurred right down to 90 mm Hg. We didn’t see any nadir or J-point where there may be an increased risk at lower pressures,” said lead author Seamus Whelton, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the division of cardiology at Johns Hopkins Medicine, Baltimore.

“From an individual level we can now say that in healthy individuals, a systolic pressure in the 90s is not too low. It is a positive thing. And it is recommended to try and keep systolic pressure at these levels if possible by maintaining a healthy lifestyle,” Dr. Whelton said in an interview. Read more.
 

Asthma tops spending on avoidable pediatric inpatient stays

Asthma costs nearly equaled potentially avoidable hospital bills for diabetes, gastroenteritis, and UTIs combined in a study of in-patient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years.

Indeed, hospital charges for the treatment of children with asthma made up nearly half of all potentially avoidable pediatric inpatient costs in 2017, according to the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality.

The cost of potentially avoidable visits for asthma that year was $278 million, versus $284 million combined for the other three conditions, Kimberly W. McDermott, PhD, and H. Joanna Jiang, PhD, reported in an AHRQ statistical brief.

The state inpatient databases of the AHRQ’s Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project included 1.4 million inpatient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years in 2017, of which 8% (108,300) were deemed potentially preventable.

Rates of potentially avoidable stays for asthma (159 per 100,000 population), gastroenteritis (90 per 100,000), and UTIs (41 per 100,000) were highest for children aged 0-4 years and generally decreased with age, but diabetes stays increased with age, rising from 12 per 100,000 in children aged 5-9 years to 38 per 100,000 for those 15-17 years old, the researchers said. Read more.

Adding monoclonal antibodies to Botox for migraine prevention

Adjunctive preventive therapy with a calcitonin gene–related peptide monoclonal antibody (CGRP-mAb) medication is safe and effective in patients with chronic migraine who have only achieved a partial response to onabotulinumtoxinA (Botox) treatment.

Investigators found the CGRP-mAbs significantly reduced the number of headache days and pain severity with adverse event rates similar to those reported in previous trials of these medications.

Although Botox is associated with significant clinical improvement in chronic migraine, it often fails to adequately control headache frequency and additional medications are needed. Three CGRP-mAbs have recently been approved for migraine prevention, with results from clinical trials demonstrating they are effective for both chronic and episodic migraine. Patients treated with Botox had been excluded from these earlier trials, however. Read more.

For more on COVID-19, visit our Resource Center. All of our latest news is available on MDedge.com.

Here are the stories our MDedge editors across specialties think you need to know about today:

A ‘Fraternity of People Who Are Struggling’

Kathleen Ronan spent a week in a New Jersey hospital, including 5 days in the ICU, battling the novel coronavirus.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, 51, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article. “It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her. Read more.

The evolution of ‘COVIDists’

At the start of the pandemic earlier this year hospitalists at Baystate Health in Western Massachusetts realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. Challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of PPE, an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected. Hospitalists there came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively.

A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them. The group underwent rapid training in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials.

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. Read more.

How low should you go?

Cardiovascular risk continues to reduce as systolic blood pressure decreases right down to levels as low as 90 mm Hg, according to a new study.

Researchers analyzed data from a cohort of 1,457 participants (mean age, 58 years) who did not have any traditional cardiovascular risk factors and had a systolic blood pressure level between 90 and 129 mm Hg at baseline. Results showed that, during a mean follow-up of 14.5 years, there was an increase in traditional cardiovascular risk factors, coronary artery calcium, and incident cardiovascular events with increasing systolic blood pressure levels.

“We modeled systolic blood pressure on a continuous scale and saw the risk increasing in a linear fashion as blood pressure increased and this occurred right down to 90 mm Hg. We didn’t see any nadir or J-point where there may be an increased risk at lower pressures,” said lead author Seamus Whelton, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the division of cardiology at Johns Hopkins Medicine, Baltimore.

“From an individual level we can now say that in healthy individuals, a systolic pressure in the 90s is not too low. It is a positive thing. And it is recommended to try and keep systolic pressure at these levels if possible by maintaining a healthy lifestyle,” Dr. Whelton said in an interview. Read more.
 

Asthma tops spending on avoidable pediatric inpatient stays

Asthma costs nearly equaled potentially avoidable hospital bills for diabetes, gastroenteritis, and UTIs combined in a study of in-patient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years.

Indeed, hospital charges for the treatment of children with asthma made up nearly half of all potentially avoidable pediatric inpatient costs in 2017, according to the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality.

The cost of potentially avoidable visits for asthma that year was $278 million, versus $284 million combined for the other three conditions, Kimberly W. McDermott, PhD, and H. Joanna Jiang, PhD, reported in an AHRQ statistical brief.

The state inpatient databases of the AHRQ’s Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project included 1.4 million inpatient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years in 2017, of which 8% (108,300) were deemed potentially preventable.

Rates of potentially avoidable stays for asthma (159 per 100,000 population), gastroenteritis (90 per 100,000), and UTIs (41 per 100,000) were highest for children aged 0-4 years and generally decreased with age, but diabetes stays increased with age, rising from 12 per 100,000 in children aged 5-9 years to 38 per 100,000 for those 15-17 years old, the researchers said. Read more.

Adding monoclonal antibodies to Botox for migraine prevention

Adjunctive preventive therapy with a calcitonin gene–related peptide monoclonal antibody (CGRP-mAb) medication is safe and effective in patients with chronic migraine who have only achieved a partial response to onabotulinumtoxinA (Botox) treatment.

Investigators found the CGRP-mAbs significantly reduced the number of headache days and pain severity with adverse event rates similar to those reported in previous trials of these medications.

Although Botox is associated with significant clinical improvement in chronic migraine, it often fails to adequately control headache frequency and additional medications are needed. Three CGRP-mAbs have recently been approved for migraine prevention, with results from clinical trials demonstrating they are effective for both chronic and episodic migraine. Patients treated with Botox had been excluded from these earlier trials, however. Read more.

For more on COVID-19, visit our Resource Center. All of our latest news is available on MDedge.com.

Here are the stories our MDedge editors across specialties think you need to know about today:

A ‘Fraternity of People Who Are Struggling’

Kathleen Ronan spent a week in a New Jersey hospital, including 5 days in the ICU, battling the novel coronavirus.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, 51, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article. “It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her. Read more.

The evolution of ‘COVIDists’

At the start of the pandemic earlier this year hospitalists at Baystate Health in Western Massachusetts realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. Challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of PPE, an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected. Hospitalists there came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively.

A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them. The group underwent rapid training in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials.

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. Read more.

How low should you go?

Cardiovascular risk continues to reduce as systolic blood pressure decreases right down to levels as low as 90 mm Hg, according to a new study.

Researchers analyzed data from a cohort of 1,457 participants (mean age, 58 years) who did not have any traditional cardiovascular risk factors and had a systolic blood pressure level between 90 and 129 mm Hg at baseline. Results showed that, during a mean follow-up of 14.5 years, there was an increase in traditional cardiovascular risk factors, coronary artery calcium, and incident cardiovascular events with increasing systolic blood pressure levels.

“We modeled systolic blood pressure on a continuous scale and saw the risk increasing in a linear fashion as blood pressure increased and this occurred right down to 90 mm Hg. We didn’t see any nadir or J-point where there may be an increased risk at lower pressures,” said lead author Seamus Whelton, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the division of cardiology at Johns Hopkins Medicine, Baltimore.

“From an individual level we can now say that in healthy individuals, a systolic pressure in the 90s is not too low. It is a positive thing. And it is recommended to try and keep systolic pressure at these levels if possible by maintaining a healthy lifestyle,” Dr. Whelton said in an interview. Read more.
 

Asthma tops spending on avoidable pediatric inpatient stays

Asthma costs nearly equaled potentially avoidable hospital bills for diabetes, gastroenteritis, and UTIs combined in a study of in-patient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years.

Indeed, hospital charges for the treatment of children with asthma made up nearly half of all potentially avoidable pediatric inpatient costs in 2017, according to the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality.

The cost of potentially avoidable visits for asthma that year was $278 million, versus $284 million combined for the other three conditions, Kimberly W. McDermott, PhD, and H. Joanna Jiang, PhD, reported in an AHRQ statistical brief.

The state inpatient databases of the AHRQ’s Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project included 1.4 million inpatient stays among children aged 3 months to 17 years in 2017, of which 8% (108,300) were deemed potentially preventable.

Rates of potentially avoidable stays for asthma (159 per 100,000 population), gastroenteritis (90 per 100,000), and UTIs (41 per 100,000) were highest for children aged 0-4 years and generally decreased with age, but diabetes stays increased with age, rising from 12 per 100,000 in children aged 5-9 years to 38 per 100,000 for those 15-17 years old, the researchers said. Read more.

Adding monoclonal antibodies to Botox for migraine prevention

Adjunctive preventive therapy with a calcitonin gene–related peptide monoclonal antibody (CGRP-mAb) medication is safe and effective in patients with chronic migraine who have only achieved a partial response to onabotulinumtoxinA (Botox) treatment.

Investigators found the CGRP-mAbs significantly reduced the number of headache days and pain severity with adverse event rates similar to those reported in previous trials of these medications.

Although Botox is associated with significant clinical improvement in chronic migraine, it often fails to adequately control headache frequency and additional medications are needed. Three CGRP-mAbs have recently been approved for migraine prevention, with results from clinical trials demonstrating they are effective for both chronic and episodic migraine. Patients treated with Botox had been excluded from these earlier trials, however. Read more.

For more on COVID-19, visit our Resource Center. All of our latest news is available on MDedge.com.

By the time she was discharged from a suburban New Jersey hospital on April 10, Kathleen Ronan thought the worst was behind her. For a week before her husband rushed her to the emergency department (ED), incoherent and struggling to breathe, the novel coronavirus had ravaged her body. She tried to treat her fevers with acetaminophen and ice packs. Despite taking enough Tylenol to risk liver damage and packing herself on ice like the catch of the day, Ronan’s fever continued to rise. By the time her temperature reached 104.5° F, Ronan knew the time had come for more drastic measures.

A team of masked and gowned nurses greeted her at a triage tent outside the ED, and from there, everything becomes hazy for Ronan. She was immediately rushed to the hospital’s special COVID-19 intensive care unit (ICU), where she spent 5 days. But she has few distinct memories from this time. What she does remember is the exhaustion, the pain, the loneliness, and the fear. Her family couldn’t visit, and though Ronan works as a home health nurse, her brain was so addled with fever that she couldn’t make sense of what was happening. After a week in the hospital, 5 days of which were spent in the ICU, 51-year-old Ronan was discharged.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, who had supplemented long days on her feet caring for others as a nurse with regular trips to the gym, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article.

“It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

Nor is PICS simply a set of side effects that will go away on their own. It includes ongoing cognitive difficulties and physical weakness, both of which can lead to employment problems. Beyond that, depression and anxiety can exacerbate – and be exacerbated by – these challenges. Psychologist Jim Jackson, PsyD, assistant director of the ICU Recovery Center at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tennessee, recently spoke with a former ICU patient who has struggled since her discharge 30 years ago.

“Her life essentially stopped with her critical care stay. She hasn’t been able to move forward,” he said. “She’s part of a whole fraternity of people who are struggling.”

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her.
 

Surviving the ICU

Although the new coronavirus has pushed the world’s critical care system to its limits, it was an outbreak in 1952 that inspired the creation of intensive care units. That summer, a wave of paralytic polio swept over Copenhagen, Denmark, and anesthesiologist Bjørn Ibsen, MD, PhD, used mechanical ventilation — physically operated by medical and dental students – to help 316 children breathe for weeks at a time while their small bodies worked to fight off the virus. The effort halved the mortality rate from polio that affected breathing, from 80% to 40%.

In these wards, dedicated to the very sickest, each patient was assigned his or her own nurse. Over the next decade, hospitals in the United Kingdom and the United States established their own ICUs to treat patients with a variety of conditions. Although it helped improve survival, mortality rates in critical care units remained stubbornly high, owing to the patients’ severe underlying illnesses.

“We thought we were doing a good job if the patient survived, but we had no idea what happened after discharge,” said Carla Sevin, MD, medical director of Vanderbilt’s ICU Recovery Center. Nor did their efforts to find out always bring answers. “We struggled to get people to come in for support — they were debilitated, physically burdened, and weak.”

Through further advances in life support, by the early 2000s, the average mortality rates in American ICUs had dropped to 8% to 19%. As the number of critical care survivors began to climb, clinical researchers noticed that the lives of these patients and their families were profoundly altered by their severe illness.

As Dale Needham, MD, PhD, began his pulmonology and critical care residency in Toronto, Canada, in 2005, a group of physicians there began a 5-year longitudinal study to assess long-term outcomes of patients who developed acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS). Although ARDS is an acute condition, the investigators found that patients felt effects for years. Younger patients recovered better than older ones, but none of the patients› physical functioning was equivalent to that of age-matched control persons. Even 5 years later, former ICU patients only reached 76% of expected physical functioning, according to results published in the New England Journal of Medicine. The study was a wake-up call.

At a meeting in Chicago in 2010, Needham, now an intensivist at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, gathered an interdisciplinary group of colleagues, including patients and caregivers, to clarify the phenomena they were seeing. What emerged from that meeting, published in 2012 in Critical Care Medicine, were the diagnostic criteria for PICS: According to the new definition, PICS is characterized by new or worsening physical and neuropsychiatric deficits that range from forgetfulness and loss of motivation to physical weakness and insomnia.

The issue, Needham says, is that although the trouble starts in the ICU, it only becomes clear once patients leave. “ICU doctors aren’t the ones dealing with this,” Needham said. “We need to build stronger bridges between critical care and other professions.” That’s where PICS comes in, a definition that exists explicitly to alert healthcare providers about the constellation of challenges many of these individuals face as they try to reenter “normal” life.
 

Defining the problem

As an ICU nurse at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, Annie Johnson, ACNP-BC, knew lots about helping hospitalized patients, but she says she didn’t know anything about what to do after discharge – at least not until her own mother became a patient.

On the first day of retirement in October 2014, Johnson’s mother flatlined. Quick-thinking paramedics resuscitated her, and after several days in critical care, she was discharged. Since then, her heart has remained healthy. Johnson’s sister, who spent time worrying over her mother at the hospital, also had lingering effects. Both have since struggled, plagued by nightmares, flashbacks, and insomnia.

Johnson initially believed her mom’s and sister’s neuropsychiatric, post-ICU struggles were unique to her family. It was only a year later, at a seminar she was attending, that she first heard the words “post–intensive care syndrome.” Suddenly, Johnson had a name for her family’s experiences, and she began to create support groups and resources to help other families like hers.

“I thought of all the patients I had treated over the years who had been on ventilators for days and days and days. And if this happened to my mom after 48 hours, what must they be going through?” she asked.

Once physicians formally defined PICS, the Society for Critical Care Medicine helped create programs to educate ICU staff, patients, and families about potential post-discharge challenges. Researchers also began to investigate factors affecting post-ICU functioning. Follow-up studies of patients with delirium (ranging from general confusion about time and place to extreme agitation and violence) showed they had striking cognitive deficits. Problems with short-term memory, flexible thinking, and motivation plagued patients for years after their critical illness, similar to the physical deficiencies seen after ARDS. Delirium was one of the strongest risk factors for neuropsychiatric problems.

“Delirium is basically a stress test for the brain,” said Babar Khan, MD, a critical care specialist at Indiana University’s Regenstrief Institute, in Bloomington. But whether delirium accentuates preexisting cognitive difficulties or creates them afresh isn’t yet clear.

Sophia Wang, MD, a geriatric psychiatrist at Indiana University who works with many critical care patients, says patients who had experienced delirium in the ICU showed significant defects in memory and executive functioning long after their hospital stay. She points to a 2015 study that followed 47 ICU patients for a year post discharge. Among those who experienced delirium, brain volumes, as measured by MRI, were smaller at 3 months, something associated with cognitive problems at 1 year. Many struggled at work, and unemployment was common. Depression and posttraumatic stress compounded these difficulties. Among those with acute respiratory distress, ICU patients who are young, female, and unemployed are most likely to suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder after they are discharge.

Critical care medicine may have given these patients a second chance at life, Wang says, but the life they return to often looks nothing like the one they had before their illness.

Prolonged mechanical ventilation and the heavy sedation that often accompanies it are predictors of PICS severity. Some of these links could be explained by the gravity of the illness that landed someone in critical care, but others are more likely to be iatrogenic, says Gerald Weinhouse, MD, a pulmonology and critical care physician and co-director of the Critical Illness Recovery Program at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. The involvement of loved ones at the patient’s bedside, however, improved the entire family’s outcome.

When Weinhouse saw those data, he and his colleagues founded a peer support program for ICU survivors. In a study published in 2019 in Critical Care Medicine, they identified six different models for peer support for those with PICS and their families, including both online and in-person approaches. An ongoing challenge for physicians, Weinhouse says, is getting patients to engage with these programs, given that their calendars are crowded with medical appointments and that they suffer from increased physical and mental disability.

Studies such as these led critical care physicians to form the ICU Liberation Collaborative to rethink critical care medicine. At Vanderbilt, Sevin and Jackson headed up one of the world’s first post-ICU clinics, which uses an interdisciplinary team to help patients maximize their functioning. They redesigned their critical care unit in a way that allows families to spend the night and that encourages patient mobility. Both Needham and Weinhouse continue tracking patient outcomes.

Even before the novel coronavirus struck, the United States — and the world — had begun to realize that graduating from the ICU was only the start of what was often an extensive recovery.
 

The long road back

When COVID-19 patients began flooding intensive care wards around the world, physicians scrambled to meet their complex and desperate acute medical needs. Over the past few months, physicians have focused on keeping these patients alive. “We’ve never seen anything like it ― not even during polio — with the sheer number of patients, all with respiratory distress,” Needham said.

But he and his colleagues know this is only the beginning.

“We’re aware that survivorship issues are coming. There’s going to be a wave of sick people who survived the coronavirus but are going to need more help,” Weinhouse said.

Intensivists have been drawing on PICS research in their fight to help COVID-19 patients. Work from the past few years has shown that although sedation is required during intubation itself, not everyone needs it while on a ventilator. Titrating down sedating medication helps reduce delirium, Wang says. Such medication has been shown to contribute to later cognitive problems. Needham’s studies showing that prolonged bedrest by ICU patients causes muscular atrophy has led him to encourage patients to move as much as possible. With the help of physical therapists, many patients on ventilators can be awake, alert, and moving around the ward.

One of the biggest challenges critical-care coronavirus patients face is prolonged isolation. The constant presence of a familiar face helps orient confused and delirious patients and provides emotional support during a frightening time. But because the immediate need for infection control outweighs these benefits, few hospitals allow visitors, especially for COVID-19 patients.

To address this, some units have been using video technology to allow loved ones to call in. At Johns Hopkins, physicians have also been relying on the expertise of occupational therapists (OTs). Needham says that one OT found that rubbing the hand and back of an agitated, delirious patient helped soothe and calm him better than many medications.

Ronan, who spent 5 days in intensive care, echoes that problem. She says she found the relative lack of human contact to be one of the most challenging parts of being in a bed on a COVID-19 ward. Separated from her husband and daughter, suffering from high fever and severe illness, she lost all track of time.

Her return home was difficult, too. Although her job as a home health nurse had prepared her on some level for the challenges she would face after discharge, Ronan says the hospital provided little practical help.

“Everything is so much harder at home, even little things like going to the bathroom,” she said. “I feel like I’m trying to bail out a sinking ship with a teacup.”

Khan and other physicians, aware of the challenges Ronan and others face once home, aim to create post-ICU clinics specifically for COVID-19 patients. They want to build what Khan calls a “one-stop shop” for all the support patients need to recover. Some of that can be provided via telehealth, which may also help ease the physical burden.

Because there’s so much physicians don’t know about the coronavirus, Johnson says, such clinics are not only a chance to help the sickest COVID-19 patients, they will also help researchers learn more about the virus and improve critical care for other illnesses.

Today, nearly 2 months after discharge, Ronan is back on the job but struggles with a persistent cough — likely due to the lung damage she sustained while ill. She has constant fatigue, as well as ongoing upset stomach from all the medications she took to reduce fever and body aches. When she dons a mask for work, the tangible reminder of her hospital stay sends her into a panic attack. Physically, she’s weaker than before.

Researchers are still trying to understand everything that Ronan and other COVID-19 patients need to move on with their lives after being in the ICU. Mysteries abound, but the ground laid by Sevin, Needham, Weinhouse, and others has provided a solid foundation on which to build.
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

By the time she was discharged from a suburban New Jersey hospital on April 10, Kathleen Ronan thought the worst was behind her. For a week before her husband rushed her to the emergency department (ED), incoherent and struggling to breathe, the novel coronavirus had ravaged her body. She tried to treat her fevers with acetaminophen and ice packs. Despite taking enough Tylenol to risk liver damage and packing herself on ice like the catch of the day, Ronan’s fever continued to rise. By the time her temperature reached 104.5° F, Ronan knew the time had come for more drastic measures.

A team of masked and gowned nurses greeted her at a triage tent outside the ED, and from there, everything becomes hazy for Ronan. She was immediately rushed to the hospital’s special COVID-19 intensive care unit (ICU), where she spent 5 days. But she has few distinct memories from this time. What she does remember is the exhaustion, the pain, the loneliness, and the fear. Her family couldn’t visit, and though Ronan works as a home health nurse, her brain was so addled with fever that she couldn’t make sense of what was happening. After a week in the hospital, 5 days of which were spent in the ICU, 51-year-old Ronan was discharged.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, who had supplemented long days on her feet caring for others as a nurse with regular trips to the gym, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article.

“It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

Nor is PICS simply a set of side effects that will go away on their own. It includes ongoing cognitive difficulties and physical weakness, both of which can lead to employment problems. Beyond that, depression and anxiety can exacerbate – and be exacerbated by – these challenges. Psychologist Jim Jackson, PsyD, assistant director of the ICU Recovery Center at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tennessee, recently spoke with a former ICU patient who has struggled since her discharge 30 years ago.

“Her life essentially stopped with her critical care stay. She hasn’t been able to move forward,” he said. “She’s part of a whole fraternity of people who are struggling.”

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her.
 

Surviving the ICU

Although the new coronavirus has pushed the world’s critical care system to its limits, it was an outbreak in 1952 that inspired the creation of intensive care units. That summer, a wave of paralytic polio swept over Copenhagen, Denmark, and anesthesiologist Bjørn Ibsen, MD, PhD, used mechanical ventilation — physically operated by medical and dental students – to help 316 children breathe for weeks at a time while their small bodies worked to fight off the virus. The effort halved the mortality rate from polio that affected breathing, from 80% to 40%.

In these wards, dedicated to the very sickest, each patient was assigned his or her own nurse. Over the next decade, hospitals in the United Kingdom and the United States established their own ICUs to treat patients with a variety of conditions. Although it helped improve survival, mortality rates in critical care units remained stubbornly high, owing to the patients’ severe underlying illnesses.

“We thought we were doing a good job if the patient survived, but we had no idea what happened after discharge,” said Carla Sevin, MD, medical director of Vanderbilt’s ICU Recovery Center. Nor did their efforts to find out always bring answers. “We struggled to get people to come in for support — they were debilitated, physically burdened, and weak.”

Through further advances in life support, by the early 2000s, the average mortality rates in American ICUs had dropped to 8% to 19%. As the number of critical care survivors began to climb, clinical researchers noticed that the lives of these patients and their families were profoundly altered by their severe illness.

As Dale Needham, MD, PhD, began his pulmonology and critical care residency in Toronto, Canada, in 2005, a group of physicians there began a 5-year longitudinal study to assess long-term outcomes of patients who developed acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS). Although ARDS is an acute condition, the investigators found that patients felt effects for years. Younger patients recovered better than older ones, but none of the patients› physical functioning was equivalent to that of age-matched control persons. Even 5 years later, former ICU patients only reached 76% of expected physical functioning, according to results published in the New England Journal of Medicine. The study was a wake-up call.

At a meeting in Chicago in 2010, Needham, now an intensivist at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, gathered an interdisciplinary group of colleagues, including patients and caregivers, to clarify the phenomena they were seeing. What emerged from that meeting, published in 2012 in Critical Care Medicine, were the diagnostic criteria for PICS: According to the new definition, PICS is characterized by new or worsening physical and neuropsychiatric deficits that range from forgetfulness and loss of motivation to physical weakness and insomnia.

The issue, Needham says, is that although the trouble starts in the ICU, it only becomes clear once patients leave. “ICU doctors aren’t the ones dealing with this,” Needham said. “We need to build stronger bridges between critical care and other professions.” That’s where PICS comes in, a definition that exists explicitly to alert healthcare providers about the constellation of challenges many of these individuals face as they try to reenter “normal” life.
 

Defining the problem

As an ICU nurse at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, Annie Johnson, ACNP-BC, knew lots about helping hospitalized patients, but she says she didn’t know anything about what to do after discharge – at least not until her own mother became a patient.

On the first day of retirement in October 2014, Johnson’s mother flatlined. Quick-thinking paramedics resuscitated her, and after several days in critical care, she was discharged. Since then, her heart has remained healthy. Johnson’s sister, who spent time worrying over her mother at the hospital, also had lingering effects. Both have since struggled, plagued by nightmares, flashbacks, and insomnia.

Johnson initially believed her mom’s and sister’s neuropsychiatric, post-ICU struggles were unique to her family. It was only a year later, at a seminar she was attending, that she first heard the words “post–intensive care syndrome.” Suddenly, Johnson had a name for her family’s experiences, and she began to create support groups and resources to help other families like hers.

“I thought of all the patients I had treated over the years who had been on ventilators for days and days and days. And if this happened to my mom after 48 hours, what must they be going through?” she asked.

Once physicians formally defined PICS, the Society for Critical Care Medicine helped create programs to educate ICU staff, patients, and families about potential post-discharge challenges. Researchers also began to investigate factors affecting post-ICU functioning. Follow-up studies of patients with delirium (ranging from general confusion about time and place to extreme agitation and violence) showed they had striking cognitive deficits. Problems with short-term memory, flexible thinking, and motivation plagued patients for years after their critical illness, similar to the physical deficiencies seen after ARDS. Delirium was one of the strongest risk factors for neuropsychiatric problems.

“Delirium is basically a stress test for the brain,” said Babar Khan, MD, a critical care specialist at Indiana University’s Regenstrief Institute, in Bloomington. But whether delirium accentuates preexisting cognitive difficulties or creates them afresh isn’t yet clear.

Sophia Wang, MD, a geriatric psychiatrist at Indiana University who works with many critical care patients, says patients who had experienced delirium in the ICU showed significant defects in memory and executive functioning long after their hospital stay. She points to a 2015 study that followed 47 ICU patients for a year post discharge. Among those who experienced delirium, brain volumes, as measured by MRI, were smaller at 3 months, something associated with cognitive problems at 1 year. Many struggled at work, and unemployment was common. Depression and posttraumatic stress compounded these difficulties. Among those with acute respiratory distress, ICU patients who are young, female, and unemployed are most likely to suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder after they are discharge.

Critical care medicine may have given these patients a second chance at life, Wang says, but the life they return to often looks nothing like the one they had before their illness.

Prolonged mechanical ventilation and the heavy sedation that often accompanies it are predictors of PICS severity. Some of these links could be explained by the gravity of the illness that landed someone in critical care, but others are more likely to be iatrogenic, says Gerald Weinhouse, MD, a pulmonology and critical care physician and co-director of the Critical Illness Recovery Program at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. The involvement of loved ones at the patient’s bedside, however, improved the entire family’s outcome.

When Weinhouse saw those data, he and his colleagues founded a peer support program for ICU survivors. In a study published in 2019 in Critical Care Medicine, they identified six different models for peer support for those with PICS and their families, including both online and in-person approaches. An ongoing challenge for physicians, Weinhouse says, is getting patients to engage with these programs, given that their calendars are crowded with medical appointments and that they suffer from increased physical and mental disability.

Studies such as these led critical care physicians to form the ICU Liberation Collaborative to rethink critical care medicine. At Vanderbilt, Sevin and Jackson headed up one of the world’s first post-ICU clinics, which uses an interdisciplinary team to help patients maximize their functioning. They redesigned their critical care unit in a way that allows families to spend the night and that encourages patient mobility. Both Needham and Weinhouse continue tracking patient outcomes.

Even before the novel coronavirus struck, the United States — and the world — had begun to realize that graduating from the ICU was only the start of what was often an extensive recovery.
 

The long road back

When COVID-19 patients began flooding intensive care wards around the world, physicians scrambled to meet their complex and desperate acute medical needs. Over the past few months, physicians have focused on keeping these patients alive. “We’ve never seen anything like it ― not even during polio — with the sheer number of patients, all with respiratory distress,” Needham said.

But he and his colleagues know this is only the beginning.

“We’re aware that survivorship issues are coming. There’s going to be a wave of sick people who survived the coronavirus but are going to need more help,” Weinhouse said.

Intensivists have been drawing on PICS research in their fight to help COVID-19 patients. Work from the past few years has shown that although sedation is required during intubation itself, not everyone needs it while on a ventilator. Titrating down sedating medication helps reduce delirium, Wang says. Such medication has been shown to contribute to later cognitive problems. Needham’s studies showing that prolonged bedrest by ICU patients causes muscular atrophy has led him to encourage patients to move as much as possible. With the help of physical therapists, many patients on ventilators can be awake, alert, and moving around the ward.

One of the biggest challenges critical-care coronavirus patients face is prolonged isolation. The constant presence of a familiar face helps orient confused and delirious patients and provides emotional support during a frightening time. But because the immediate need for infection control outweighs these benefits, few hospitals allow visitors, especially for COVID-19 patients.

To address this, some units have been using video technology to allow loved ones to call in. At Johns Hopkins, physicians have also been relying on the expertise of occupational therapists (OTs). Needham says that one OT found that rubbing the hand and back of an agitated, delirious patient helped soothe and calm him better than many medications.

Ronan, who spent 5 days in intensive care, echoes that problem. She says she found the relative lack of human contact to be one of the most challenging parts of being in a bed on a COVID-19 ward. Separated from her husband and daughter, suffering from high fever and severe illness, she lost all track of time.

Her return home was difficult, too. Although her job as a home health nurse had prepared her on some level for the challenges she would face after discharge, Ronan says the hospital provided little practical help.

“Everything is so much harder at home, even little things like going to the bathroom,” she said. “I feel like I’m trying to bail out a sinking ship with a teacup.”

Khan and other physicians, aware of the challenges Ronan and others face once home, aim to create post-ICU clinics specifically for COVID-19 patients. They want to build what Khan calls a “one-stop shop” for all the support patients need to recover. Some of that can be provided via telehealth, which may also help ease the physical burden.

Because there’s so much physicians don’t know about the coronavirus, Johnson says, such clinics are not only a chance to help the sickest COVID-19 patients, they will also help researchers learn more about the virus and improve critical care for other illnesses.

Today, nearly 2 months after discharge, Ronan is back on the job but struggles with a persistent cough — likely due to the lung damage she sustained while ill. She has constant fatigue, as well as ongoing upset stomach from all the medications she took to reduce fever and body aches. When she dons a mask for work, the tangible reminder of her hospital stay sends her into a panic attack. Physically, she’s weaker than before.

Researchers are still trying to understand everything that Ronan and other COVID-19 patients need to move on with their lives after being in the ICU. Mysteries abound, but the ground laid by Sevin, Needham, Weinhouse, and others has provided a solid foundation on which to build.
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

By the time she was discharged from a suburban New Jersey hospital on April 10, Kathleen Ronan thought the worst was behind her. For a week before her husband rushed her to the emergency department (ED), incoherent and struggling to breathe, the novel coronavirus had ravaged her body. She tried to treat her fevers with acetaminophen and ice packs. Despite taking enough Tylenol to risk liver damage and packing herself on ice like the catch of the day, Ronan’s fever continued to rise. By the time her temperature reached 104.5° F, Ronan knew the time had come for more drastic measures.

A team of masked and gowned nurses greeted her at a triage tent outside the ED, and from there, everything becomes hazy for Ronan. She was immediately rushed to the hospital’s special COVID-19 intensive care unit (ICU), where she spent 5 days. But she has few distinct memories from this time. What she does remember is the exhaustion, the pain, the loneliness, and the fear. Her family couldn’t visit, and though Ronan works as a home health nurse, her brain was so addled with fever that she couldn’t make sense of what was happening. After a week in the hospital, 5 days of which were spent in the ICU, 51-year-old Ronan was discharged.

Her years of working as a home health nurse told her that the return home wouldn’t be easy, but nothing prepared her for just how much she would struggle. The once-active Ronan, who had supplemented long days on her feet caring for others as a nurse with regular trips to the gym, now needed a walker to traverse the few steps from her bed to the toilet, an effort that left her gasping for air. Her brain couldn’t even focus on an audiobook, let alone a short magazine article.

“It just completely knocked the stuffing out of me,” Ronan said.

Ronan’s lingering symptoms aren’t unique to COVID-19 patients. In as many as 80% of patients leaving the ICU, researchers have documented what they call post–intensive care syndrome (PICS) — a constellation of physical, cognitive, and psychiatric symptoms that result from an ICU stay. Although underlying illness plays a role in these symptoms, the amount of time spent in critical care is a major factor.

Nor is PICS simply a set of side effects that will go away on their own. It includes ongoing cognitive difficulties and physical weakness, both of which can lead to employment problems. Beyond that, depression and anxiety can exacerbate – and be exacerbated by – these challenges. Psychologist Jim Jackson, PsyD, assistant director of the ICU Recovery Center at Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Nashville, Tennessee, recently spoke with a former ICU patient who has struggled since her discharge 30 years ago.

“Her life essentially stopped with her critical care stay. She hasn’t been able to move forward,” he said. “She’s part of a whole fraternity of people who are struggling.”

The good news is that over the past decade, researchers have made important strides in understanding what makes PICS symptoms worse and how critical care physicians can tweak ICU protocols to reduce PICS severity. Practitioners will need to draw on this knowledge to help Ronan and the thousands of COVID-19 ICU patients like her.
 

Surviving the ICU

Although the new coronavirus has pushed the world’s critical care system to its limits, it was an outbreak in 1952 that inspired the creation of intensive care units. That summer, a wave of paralytic polio swept over Copenhagen, Denmark, and anesthesiologist Bjørn Ibsen, MD, PhD, used mechanical ventilation — physically operated by medical and dental students – to help 316 children breathe for weeks at a time while their small bodies worked to fight off the virus. The effort halved the mortality rate from polio that affected breathing, from 80% to 40%.

In these wards, dedicated to the very sickest, each patient was assigned his or her own nurse. Over the next decade, hospitals in the United Kingdom and the United States established their own ICUs to treat patients with a variety of conditions. Although it helped improve survival, mortality rates in critical care units remained stubbornly high, owing to the patients’ severe underlying illnesses.

“We thought we were doing a good job if the patient survived, but we had no idea what happened after discharge,” said Carla Sevin, MD, medical director of Vanderbilt’s ICU Recovery Center. Nor did their efforts to find out always bring answers. “We struggled to get people to come in for support — they were debilitated, physically burdened, and weak.”

Through further advances in life support, by the early 2000s, the average mortality rates in American ICUs had dropped to 8% to 19%. As the number of critical care survivors began to climb, clinical researchers noticed that the lives of these patients and their families were profoundly altered by their severe illness.

As Dale Needham, MD, PhD, began his pulmonology and critical care residency in Toronto, Canada, in 2005, a group of physicians there began a 5-year longitudinal study to assess long-term outcomes of patients who developed acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS). Although ARDS is an acute condition, the investigators found that patients felt effects for years. Younger patients recovered better than older ones, but none of the patients› physical functioning was equivalent to that of age-matched control persons. Even 5 years later, former ICU patients only reached 76% of expected physical functioning, according to results published in the New England Journal of Medicine. The study was a wake-up call.

At a meeting in Chicago in 2010, Needham, now an intensivist at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, gathered an interdisciplinary group of colleagues, including patients and caregivers, to clarify the phenomena they were seeing. What emerged from that meeting, published in 2012 in Critical Care Medicine, were the diagnostic criteria for PICS: According to the new definition, PICS is characterized by new or worsening physical and neuropsychiatric deficits that range from forgetfulness and loss of motivation to physical weakness and insomnia.

The issue, Needham says, is that although the trouble starts in the ICU, it only becomes clear once patients leave. “ICU doctors aren’t the ones dealing with this,” Needham said. “We need to build stronger bridges between critical care and other professions.” That’s where PICS comes in, a definition that exists explicitly to alert healthcare providers about the constellation of challenges many of these individuals face as they try to reenter “normal” life.
 

Defining the problem

As an ICU nurse at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, Annie Johnson, ACNP-BC, knew lots about helping hospitalized patients, but she says she didn’t know anything about what to do after discharge – at least not until her own mother became a patient.

On the first day of retirement in October 2014, Johnson’s mother flatlined. Quick-thinking paramedics resuscitated her, and after several days in critical care, she was discharged. Since then, her heart has remained healthy. Johnson’s sister, who spent time worrying over her mother at the hospital, also had lingering effects. Both have since struggled, plagued by nightmares, flashbacks, and insomnia.

Johnson initially believed her mom’s and sister’s neuropsychiatric, post-ICU struggles were unique to her family. It was only a year later, at a seminar she was attending, that she first heard the words “post–intensive care syndrome.” Suddenly, Johnson had a name for her family’s experiences, and she began to create support groups and resources to help other families like hers.

“I thought of all the patients I had treated over the years who had been on ventilators for days and days and days. And if this happened to my mom after 48 hours, what must they be going through?” she asked.

Once physicians formally defined PICS, the Society for Critical Care Medicine helped create programs to educate ICU staff, patients, and families about potential post-discharge challenges. Researchers also began to investigate factors affecting post-ICU functioning. Follow-up studies of patients with delirium (ranging from general confusion about time and place to extreme agitation and violence) showed they had striking cognitive deficits. Problems with short-term memory, flexible thinking, and motivation plagued patients for years after their critical illness, similar to the physical deficiencies seen after ARDS. Delirium was one of the strongest risk factors for neuropsychiatric problems.

“Delirium is basically a stress test for the brain,” said Babar Khan, MD, a critical care specialist at Indiana University’s Regenstrief Institute, in Bloomington. But whether delirium accentuates preexisting cognitive difficulties or creates them afresh isn’t yet clear.

Sophia Wang, MD, a geriatric psychiatrist at Indiana University who works with many critical care patients, says patients who had experienced delirium in the ICU showed significant defects in memory and executive functioning long after their hospital stay. She points to a 2015 study that followed 47 ICU patients for a year post discharge. Among those who experienced delirium, brain volumes, as measured by MRI, were smaller at 3 months, something associated with cognitive problems at 1 year. Many struggled at work, and unemployment was common. Depression and posttraumatic stress compounded these difficulties. Among those with acute respiratory distress, ICU patients who are young, female, and unemployed are most likely to suffer from posttraumatic stress disorder after they are discharge.

Critical care medicine may have given these patients a second chance at life, Wang says, but the life they return to often looks nothing like the one they had before their illness.

Prolonged mechanical ventilation and the heavy sedation that often accompanies it are predictors of PICS severity. Some of these links could be explained by the gravity of the illness that landed someone in critical care, but others are more likely to be iatrogenic, says Gerald Weinhouse, MD, a pulmonology and critical care physician and co-director of the Critical Illness Recovery Program at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. The involvement of loved ones at the patient’s bedside, however, improved the entire family’s outcome.

When Weinhouse saw those data, he and his colleagues founded a peer support program for ICU survivors. In a study published in 2019 in Critical Care Medicine, they identified six different models for peer support for those with PICS and their families, including both online and in-person approaches. An ongoing challenge for physicians, Weinhouse says, is getting patients to engage with these programs, given that their calendars are crowded with medical appointments and that they suffer from increased physical and mental disability.

Studies such as these led critical care physicians to form the ICU Liberation Collaborative to rethink critical care medicine. At Vanderbilt, Sevin and Jackson headed up one of the world’s first post-ICU clinics, which uses an interdisciplinary team to help patients maximize their functioning. They redesigned their critical care unit in a way that allows families to spend the night and that encourages patient mobility. Both Needham and Weinhouse continue tracking patient outcomes.

Even before the novel coronavirus struck, the United States — and the world — had begun to realize that graduating from the ICU was only the start of what was often an extensive recovery.
 

The long road back

When COVID-19 patients began flooding intensive care wards around the world, physicians scrambled to meet their complex and desperate acute medical needs. Over the past few months, physicians have focused on keeping these patients alive. “We’ve never seen anything like it ― not even during polio — with the sheer number of patients, all with respiratory distress,” Needham said.

But he and his colleagues know this is only the beginning.

“We’re aware that survivorship issues are coming. There’s going to be a wave of sick people who survived the coronavirus but are going to need more help,” Weinhouse said.

Intensivists have been drawing on PICS research in their fight to help COVID-19 patients. Work from the past few years has shown that although sedation is required during intubation itself, not everyone needs it while on a ventilator. Titrating down sedating medication helps reduce delirium, Wang says. Such medication has been shown to contribute to later cognitive problems. Needham’s studies showing that prolonged bedrest by ICU patients causes muscular atrophy has led him to encourage patients to move as much as possible. With the help of physical therapists, many patients on ventilators can be awake, alert, and moving around the ward.

One of the biggest challenges critical-care coronavirus patients face is prolonged isolation. The constant presence of a familiar face helps orient confused and delirious patients and provides emotional support during a frightening time. But because the immediate need for infection control outweighs these benefits, few hospitals allow visitors, especially for COVID-19 patients.

To address this, some units have been using video technology to allow loved ones to call in. At Johns Hopkins, physicians have also been relying on the expertise of occupational therapists (OTs). Needham says that one OT found that rubbing the hand and back of an agitated, delirious patient helped soothe and calm him better than many medications.

Ronan, who spent 5 days in intensive care, echoes that problem. She says she found the relative lack of human contact to be one of the most challenging parts of being in a bed on a COVID-19 ward. Separated from her husband and daughter, suffering from high fever and severe illness, she lost all track of time.

Her return home was difficult, too. Although her job as a home health nurse had prepared her on some level for the challenges she would face after discharge, Ronan says the hospital provided little practical help.

“Everything is so much harder at home, even little things like going to the bathroom,” she said. “I feel like I’m trying to bail out a sinking ship with a teacup.”

Khan and other physicians, aware of the challenges Ronan and others face once home, aim to create post-ICU clinics specifically for COVID-19 patients. They want to build what Khan calls a “one-stop shop” for all the support patients need to recover. Some of that can be provided via telehealth, which may also help ease the physical burden.

Because there’s so much physicians don’t know about the coronavirus, Johnson says, such clinics are not only a chance to help the sickest COVID-19 patients, they will also help researchers learn more about the virus and improve critical care for other illnesses.

Today, nearly 2 months after discharge, Ronan is back on the job but struggles with a persistent cough — likely due to the lung damage she sustained while ill. She has constant fatigue, as well as ongoing upset stomach from all the medications she took to reduce fever and body aches. When she dons a mask for work, the tangible reminder of her hospital stay sends her into a panic attack. Physically, she’s weaker than before.

Researchers are still trying to understand everything that Ronan and other COVID-19 patients need to move on with their lives after being in the ICU. Mysteries abound, but the ground laid by Sevin, Needham, Weinhouse, and others has provided a solid foundation on which to build.
 

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The challenges posed by COVID-19 have crippled health care systems around the globe. By February 2020, the first outbreak in the United States had been set off in Washington State. We quickly became the world’s epicenter of the epidemic, with over 1.8 million patients and over 110,000 deaths.¹ The rapidity of spread and the severity of the disease created a tremendous strain on resources. It blindsided policymakers and hospital administrators, which left little time to react to the challenges placed on hospital operations all over the country.

The necessity of a new care model

Although health systems in the United States are adept in managing complications of common seasonal viral respiratory illnesses, COVID-19 presented an entirely different challenge with its significantly higher mortality rate. A respiratory disease turning into a multiorgan disease that causes debilitating cardiac, renal, neurological, hematological, and psychosocial complications² was not something we had experience managing effectively. Additional challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of personal protective equipment (PPE), an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and most importantly, the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected.

Based on the experiences in China and Italy, and various predictive models, the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health quickly realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. We came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively. The measures we put in place could be broadly divided into three categories following the timeline of the disease: the preparatory phase, the execution phase, and the maintenance phase.
 

The preparatory phase: From “Hospitalists” to “COVIDists”

As in most hospitals around the country, hospitalists are the backbone of inpatient clinical operations at our health system. A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them.

COVIDists were trained in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials. They were given refresher training in Advanced Cardiac Life Support (ACLS) and Fundamental Critical Care Support (FCCS) courses and were taught in critical care/ventilator management by the intensivists through rapid indoctrination in the ICU. All of them had their N-95 mask fitting updated and were trained in the safe donning and doffing of all kinds of PPE by PPE coaches. The palliative care team trained them in conducting end-of-life/code status discussions with a focus on being unable to speak with family members at the bedside. COVIDists were also assigned as Code Blue leaders for any “COVID code blue” in the hospital.

In addition to the rapid training course, COVID-related updates were disseminated daily using three different modalities: brief huddles at the start of the day with the COVIDists; a COVID-19 newsletter summarizing daily updates, new treatments, strategies, and policies; and a WhatsApp group for instantly broadcasting information to the COVIDists (Table 1).

The execution phase

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. The COVIDists were also undertaking the most challenging part of the care – talking to families about end-of-life issues and the futility of aggressive care in certain patients with preexisting conditions.

Some COVIDists were deployed to the ICU to work alongside the intensivists and became an invaluable resource in ICU management when the ICU census skyrocketed during the initial phase of the outbreak. This helped in tiding the health system over during the initial crisis. Within a short time, we shifted away from an early intubation strategy, and most of the ICU patients were managed in the intermediate care units on high flow oxygen along with the awake-proning protocol. The COVIDists exclusively managed these units. They led multidisciplinary rounds two times a day with the ICU, rapid response team (RRT), the palliative care team, and the nursing team. This step drastically decreased the number of intubations, RRT activations, reduced ICU census,³ and helped with hospital capacity and patient flow (Tables 2 and 3).

The maintenance phase

It is already 2 months since the first devising COVIDists. There is no difference in sick callouts between COVIDists and non-COVIDists. One COVIDist and one non-COVIDist contracted the disease, but none of them required hospitalization. Although we initially thought that COVIDists would be needed for only a short period of time, the evolution of the disease is showing signs that it might be prolonged over the next several months. Hence, we are planning to continue COVIDist service for at least the next 6 months and reevaluate the need.

Hospital medicine leadership checked on COVIDists daily in regard to their physical health and, more importantly, their mental well-being. They were offered the chance to be taken off the schedule if they felt burned out, but no one wanted to come off their scheduled service before finishing their shifts. BlueCross MA recognized one of the COVIDists, Raghuveer Rakasi, MD, as a “hero on the front line.”⁴ In Dr. Rakasi’s words, “We took a nosedive into something without knowing its depth, and aware that we could have fatalities among ourselves. We took up new roles, faced new challenges, learned new things every day, evolving every step of the way. We had to change the way we practice medicine, finding new ways to treat patients, and protecting the workforce by limiting patient exposure, prioritizing investigations.” He added that “we have to adapt to a new normal; we should be prepared for this to come in waves. Putting aside our political views, we should stand united 6 feet apart, with a mask covering our brave faces, frequently washing our helping hands to overcome these uncertain times.”
 

Conclusion

The creation of a focused group of hospitalists called COVIDists and providing them with structured and rapid training (in various aspects of clinical care of COVID-19 patients, critical care/ventilator management, efficient and safe use of PPE) and daily information dissemination allowed our health system to prepare for the large volume of COVID-19 patients. It also helped in preserving the larger hospital workforce for a possible future surge.

The rapid development and implementation of the COVIDist strategy succeeded because of the intrinsic motivation of the providers to improve the outcomes of this high-risk patient population and the close collaboration of the stakeholders. Our institution remains successful in managing the pandemic in Western Massachusetts, with reserve capacity remaining even during the peak of the epidemic. A large part of this was because of creating and training a pool of COVIDists.
 

Dr. Medarametla is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health, and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts, Worcester. Readers can contact him at [email protected]. Dr. Prabhakaran is unit medical director, geriatrics unit, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Bryson is associate program director of the Internal Medicine Residency at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Umar is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health. Dr. Natanasabapathy is division chief of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19). Updated Jun 10, 2020. https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/cases-updates/cases-in-us.html.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Westafer LM et al. A transdisciplinary COVID-19 early respiratory intervention protocol: An implementation story. J Hosp Med. 2020 May 21;15(6):372-374.

4. Miller J. “Heroes on the front line: Dr. Raghuveer Rakasi.” Coverage. May 18, 2020. https://coverage.bluecrossma.com/article/heroes-front-line-dr-raghuveer-rakasi

The challenges posed by COVID-19 have crippled health care systems around the globe. By February 2020, the first outbreak in the United States had been set off in Washington State. We quickly became the world’s epicenter of the epidemic, with over 1.8 million patients and over 110,000 deaths.¹ The rapidity of spread and the severity of the disease created a tremendous strain on resources. It blindsided policymakers and hospital administrators, which left little time to react to the challenges placed on hospital operations all over the country.

The necessity of a new care model

Although health systems in the United States are adept in managing complications of common seasonal viral respiratory illnesses, COVID-19 presented an entirely different challenge with its significantly higher mortality rate. A respiratory disease turning into a multiorgan disease that causes debilitating cardiac, renal, neurological, hematological, and psychosocial complications² was not something we had experience managing effectively. Additional challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of personal protective equipment (PPE), an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and most importantly, the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected.

Based on the experiences in China and Italy, and various predictive models, the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health quickly realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. We came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively. The measures we put in place could be broadly divided into three categories following the timeline of the disease: the preparatory phase, the execution phase, and the maintenance phase.
 

The preparatory phase: From “Hospitalists” to “COVIDists”

As in most hospitals around the country, hospitalists are the backbone of inpatient clinical operations at our health system. A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them.

COVIDists were trained in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials. They were given refresher training in Advanced Cardiac Life Support (ACLS) and Fundamental Critical Care Support (FCCS) courses and were taught in critical care/ventilator management by the intensivists through rapid indoctrination in the ICU. All of them had their N-95 mask fitting updated and were trained in the safe donning and doffing of all kinds of PPE by PPE coaches. The palliative care team trained them in conducting end-of-life/code status discussions with a focus on being unable to speak with family members at the bedside. COVIDists were also assigned as Code Blue leaders for any “COVID code blue” in the hospital.

In addition to the rapid training course, COVID-related updates were disseminated daily using three different modalities: brief huddles at the start of the day with the COVIDists; a COVID-19 newsletter summarizing daily updates, new treatments, strategies, and policies; and a WhatsApp group for instantly broadcasting information to the COVIDists (Table 1).

The execution phase

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. The COVIDists were also undertaking the most challenging part of the care – talking to families about end-of-life issues and the futility of aggressive care in certain patients with preexisting conditions.

Some COVIDists were deployed to the ICU to work alongside the intensivists and became an invaluable resource in ICU management when the ICU census skyrocketed during the initial phase of the outbreak. This helped in tiding the health system over during the initial crisis. Within a short time, we shifted away from an early intubation strategy, and most of the ICU patients were managed in the intermediate care units on high flow oxygen along with the awake-proning protocol. The COVIDists exclusively managed these units. They led multidisciplinary rounds two times a day with the ICU, rapid response team (RRT), the palliative care team, and the nursing team. This step drastically decreased the number of intubations, RRT activations, reduced ICU census,³ and helped with hospital capacity and patient flow (Tables 2 and 3).

The maintenance phase

It is already 2 months since the first devising COVIDists. There is no difference in sick callouts between COVIDists and non-COVIDists. One COVIDist and one non-COVIDist contracted the disease, but none of them required hospitalization. Although we initially thought that COVIDists would be needed for only a short period of time, the evolution of the disease is showing signs that it might be prolonged over the next several months. Hence, we are planning to continue COVIDist service for at least the next 6 months and reevaluate the need.

Hospital medicine leadership checked on COVIDists daily in regard to their physical health and, more importantly, their mental well-being. They were offered the chance to be taken off the schedule if they felt burned out, but no one wanted to come off their scheduled service before finishing their shifts. BlueCross MA recognized one of the COVIDists, Raghuveer Rakasi, MD, as a “hero on the front line.”⁴ In Dr. Rakasi’s words, “We took a nosedive into something without knowing its depth, and aware that we could have fatalities among ourselves. We took up new roles, faced new challenges, learned new things every day, evolving every step of the way. We had to change the way we practice medicine, finding new ways to treat patients, and protecting the workforce by limiting patient exposure, prioritizing investigations.” He added that “we have to adapt to a new normal; we should be prepared for this to come in waves. Putting aside our political views, we should stand united 6 feet apart, with a mask covering our brave faces, frequently washing our helping hands to overcome these uncertain times.”
 

Conclusion

The creation of a focused group of hospitalists called COVIDists and providing them with structured and rapid training (in various aspects of clinical care of COVID-19 patients, critical care/ventilator management, efficient and safe use of PPE) and daily information dissemination allowed our health system to prepare for the large volume of COVID-19 patients. It also helped in preserving the larger hospital workforce for a possible future surge.

The rapid development and implementation of the COVIDist strategy succeeded because of the intrinsic motivation of the providers to improve the outcomes of this high-risk patient population and the close collaboration of the stakeholders. Our institution remains successful in managing the pandemic in Western Massachusetts, with reserve capacity remaining even during the peak of the epidemic. A large part of this was because of creating and training a pool of COVIDists.
 

Dr. Medarametla is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health, and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts, Worcester. Readers can contact him at [email protected]. Dr. Prabhakaran is unit medical director, geriatrics unit, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Bryson is associate program director of the Internal Medicine Residency at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Umar is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health. Dr. Natanasabapathy is division chief of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19). Updated Jun 10, 2020. https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/cases-updates/cases-in-us.html.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Westafer LM et al. A transdisciplinary COVID-19 early respiratory intervention protocol: An implementation story. J Hosp Med. 2020 May 21;15(6):372-374.

4. Miller J. “Heroes on the front line: Dr. Raghuveer Rakasi.” Coverage. May 18, 2020. https://coverage.bluecrossma.com/article/heroes-front-line-dr-raghuveer-rakasi

The challenges posed by COVID-19 have crippled health care systems around the globe. By February 2020, the first outbreak in the United States had been set off in Washington State. We quickly became the world’s epicenter of the epidemic, with over 1.8 million patients and over 110,000 deaths.¹ The rapidity of spread and the severity of the disease created a tremendous strain on resources. It blindsided policymakers and hospital administrators, which left little time to react to the challenges placed on hospital operations all over the country.

The necessity of a new care model

Although health systems in the United States are adept in managing complications of common seasonal viral respiratory illnesses, COVID-19 presented an entirely different challenge with its significantly higher mortality rate. A respiratory disease turning into a multiorgan disease that causes debilitating cardiac, renal, neurological, hematological, and psychosocial complications² was not something we had experience managing effectively. Additional challenges included a massive surge of COVID-19 patients, a limited supply of personal protective equipment (PPE), an inadequate number of intensivists for managing the anticipated ventilated patients, and most importantly, the potential of losing some of our workforce if they became infected.

Based on the experiences in China and Italy, and various predictive models, the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health quickly realized the necessity of a new model of care for COVID-19 patients. We came up with an elaborate plan to manage the disease burden and the strain on resources effectively. The measures we put in place could be broadly divided into three categories following the timeline of the disease: the preparatory phase, the execution phase, and the maintenance phase.
 

The preparatory phase: From “Hospitalists” to “COVIDists”

As in most hospitals around the country, hospitalists are the backbone of inpatient clinical operations at our health system. A focused group of 10 hospitalists who volunteered to take care of COVID-19 patients with a particular interest in the pandemic and experience in critical care were selected, and the term “COVIDists” was coined to refer to them.

COVIDists were trained in various treatment protocols and ongoing clinical trials. They were given refresher training in Advanced Cardiac Life Support (ACLS) and Fundamental Critical Care Support (FCCS) courses and were taught in critical care/ventilator management by the intensivists through rapid indoctrination in the ICU. All of them had their N-95 mask fitting updated and were trained in the safe donning and doffing of all kinds of PPE by PPE coaches. The palliative care team trained them in conducting end-of-life/code status discussions with a focus on being unable to speak with family members at the bedside. COVIDists were also assigned as Code Blue leaders for any “COVID code blue” in the hospital.

In addition to the rapid training course, COVID-related updates were disseminated daily using three different modalities: brief huddles at the start of the day with the COVIDists; a COVID-19 newsletter summarizing daily updates, new treatments, strategies, and policies; and a WhatsApp group for instantly broadcasting information to the COVIDists (Table 1).

The execution phase

All the hospitalized COVID-19 patients were grouped together to COVID units, and the COVIDists were deployed to those units geographically. COVIDists were given lighter than usual patient loads to deal with the extra time needed for donning and doffing of PPE and for coordination with specialists. COVIDists were almost the only clinicians physically visiting the patients in most cases, and they became the “eyes and ears” of specialists since the specialists were advised to minimize exposure and pursue telemedicine consults. The COVIDists were also undertaking the most challenging part of the care – talking to families about end-of-life issues and the futility of aggressive care in certain patients with preexisting conditions.

Some COVIDists were deployed to the ICU to work alongside the intensivists and became an invaluable resource in ICU management when the ICU census skyrocketed during the initial phase of the outbreak. This helped in tiding the health system over during the initial crisis. Within a short time, we shifted away from an early intubation strategy, and most of the ICU patients were managed in the intermediate care units on high flow oxygen along with the awake-proning protocol. The COVIDists exclusively managed these units. They led multidisciplinary rounds two times a day with the ICU, rapid response team (RRT), the palliative care team, and the nursing team. This step drastically decreased the number of intubations, RRT activations, reduced ICU census,³ and helped with hospital capacity and patient flow (Tables 2 and 3).

The maintenance phase

It is already 2 months since the first devising COVIDists. There is no difference in sick callouts between COVIDists and non-COVIDists. One COVIDist and one non-COVIDist contracted the disease, but none of them required hospitalization. Although we initially thought that COVIDists would be needed for only a short period of time, the evolution of the disease is showing signs that it might be prolonged over the next several months. Hence, we are planning to continue COVIDist service for at least the next 6 months and reevaluate the need.

Hospital medicine leadership checked on COVIDists daily in regard to their physical health and, more importantly, their mental well-being. They were offered the chance to be taken off the schedule if they felt burned out, but no one wanted to come off their scheduled service before finishing their shifts. BlueCross MA recognized one of the COVIDists, Raghuveer Rakasi, MD, as a “hero on the front line.”⁴ In Dr. Rakasi’s words, “We took a nosedive into something without knowing its depth, and aware that we could have fatalities among ourselves. We took up new roles, faced new challenges, learned new things every day, evolving every step of the way. We had to change the way we practice medicine, finding new ways to treat patients, and protecting the workforce by limiting patient exposure, prioritizing investigations.” He added that “we have to adapt to a new normal; we should be prepared for this to come in waves. Putting aside our political views, we should stand united 6 feet apart, with a mask covering our brave faces, frequently washing our helping hands to overcome these uncertain times.”
 

Conclusion

The creation of a focused group of hospitalists called COVIDists and providing them with structured and rapid training (in various aspects of clinical care of COVID-19 patients, critical care/ventilator management, efficient and safe use of PPE) and daily information dissemination allowed our health system to prepare for the large volume of COVID-19 patients. It also helped in preserving the larger hospital workforce for a possible future surge.

The rapid development and implementation of the COVIDist strategy succeeded because of the intrinsic motivation of the providers to improve the outcomes of this high-risk patient population and the close collaboration of the stakeholders. Our institution remains successful in managing the pandemic in Western Massachusetts, with reserve capacity remaining even during the peak of the epidemic. A large part of this was because of creating and training a pool of COVIDists.
 

Dr. Medarametla is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health, and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts, Worcester. Readers can contact him at [email protected]. Dr. Prabhakaran is unit medical director, geriatrics unit, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Bryson is associate program director of the Internal Medicine Residency at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts. Dr. Umar is medical director, clinical operations, in the division of hospital medicine at Baystate Health. Dr. Natanasabapathy is division chief of hospital medicine at Baystate Health and assistant professor at University of Massachusetts.

References

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19). Updated Jun 10, 2020. https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/cases-updates/cases-in-us.html.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Westafer LM et al. A transdisciplinary COVID-19 early respiratory intervention protocol: An implementation story. J Hosp Med. 2020 May 21;15(6):372-374.

4. Miller J. “Heroes on the front line: Dr. Raghuveer Rakasi.” Coverage. May 18, 2020. https://coverage.bluecrossma.com/article/heroes-front-line-dr-raghuveer-rakasi

I have an automatic preference for white people over black people. This isn’t my opinion; rather, it is my implicit bias test result. I didn’t believe it at first. Trying hard to not be biased, I took the test again and received the same outcome. My reaction – disbelief – is typical for those like me: White people who believe they are good human beings. I might be good, but that doesn’t mean I’m free of bias or exonerated from the harm being inflicted on people of color.

We’ve all watched in horror the acts of violence against blacks in the news. I was shocked and disgusted. It was easy to believe, however, that I am in no way complicit in the injustice and racism I was watching. I think I’m fair and without prejudice. I have never intentionally discriminated against someone. Wanting to help, I listened to my black colleagues, staff, and patients. What I learned made me uncomfortable.

Through all this news, I’d said little to my colleagues and friends. I cannot identify with how a black person has felt recently. What if I said the wrong thing or caused offense? The safe option is to say nothing. I learned that this is a common reaction and the least helpful. The advice from one black colleague was simple: “Just ask us.” Instead of ignoring the issue, she advised me to say: “I wonder what this experience has been like for you. Would you like to share?” And, if you mean it, to add, “I stand with you.” The latter should be followed by “What can I do to help?” Or, more powerfully, “What have I done that makes me complicit?”

Some of these conversations will be uncomfortable. If you want to help, then sit with that. Feeling uncomfortable might mean you are beginning to understand.

I also heard about the excellent book “White Fragility,” by Robin DiAngelo, PhD. In it, she argues that it is difficult for white people to talk about racism because of a tendency to react with defensiveness, guilt, and sometimes anger.

Many of the chapters in the book were easy to read because they didn’t apply to me: I don’t get angry in equity, inclusion, and diversity meetings. I don’t resent affirmative action programs. But then Dr. DiAngelo got me: I believed because I’m a good person and I have no intention of being racist, I’m absolved. Her argument was enlightening. Like all white people in the United States, I have benefited from white privilege. Yes, I’ve worked hard, but I also grew up in a white family with a college-educated father. That alone afforded me academic and financial advantages, which pushed me ahead. I’ve benefited from the status quo.

I have also failed to speak up when white friends carried on about how unnecessary affirmative action programs have become. I’ve sat with sealed lips when I’ve heard comments like “As a white male, it’s a lot harder to get into prestigious schools now.” Having no intention to harm doesn’t matter; plenty of harm is done unintentionally.

I also believed that because I have good intentions, I have no racial bias. I was wrong. The test I took online is an excellent tool to combat this blind spot. It was created by Harvard researchers and is available to everyone: Take a Test. It asks you to categorize faces as good or bad and records your tiny reaction times. Based on these and other questions, it provides feedback on your personal biases.

I was surprised that I have an implicit preference for white people over black people. That’s the point. Most of us are unaware of our biases and falsely believe we are free of them. I encourage you to take the test and learn about yourself. If the result makes you uncomfortable, then sit with it. Try not to be defensive, as I was, and accept that, even if you are a good person, you can become a better one.

Based on what I’ve learned and heard in the last few weeks, I’ve committed to a few things: To acknowledge the harm done to my black and brown colleagues and my complicity even by acts of omission. To not avoid uncomfortable feelings or uncomfortable conversations. As a leader, to use my organizational status to advocate. To stand by my partners of color not only in dramatic one-time marches but also against the everyday perpetrators of microaggressions. To create a safe space and invite my colleagues, staff, friends, and patients to share.

Standing up against racism is all our responsibility. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminds us: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
 

Dr. Benabio is director of healthcare transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. He has no disclosures related to this column. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

I have an automatic preference for white people over black people. This isn’t my opinion; rather, it is my implicit bias test result. I didn’t believe it at first. Trying hard to not be biased, I took the test again and received the same outcome. My reaction – disbelief – is typical for those like me: White people who believe they are good human beings. I might be good, but that doesn’t mean I’m free of bias or exonerated from the harm being inflicted on people of color.

We’ve all watched in horror the acts of violence against blacks in the news. I was shocked and disgusted. It was easy to believe, however, that I am in no way complicit in the injustice and racism I was watching. I think I’m fair and without prejudice. I have never intentionally discriminated against someone. Wanting to help, I listened to my black colleagues, staff, and patients. What I learned made me uncomfortable.

Through all this news, I’d said little to my colleagues and friends. I cannot identify with how a black person has felt recently. What if I said the wrong thing or caused offense? The safe option is to say nothing. I learned that this is a common reaction and the least helpful. The advice from one black colleague was simple: “Just ask us.” Instead of ignoring the issue, she advised me to say: “I wonder what this experience has been like for you. Would you like to share?” And, if you mean it, to add, “I stand with you.” The latter should be followed by “What can I do to help?” Or, more powerfully, “What have I done that makes me complicit?”

Some of these conversations will be uncomfortable. If you want to help, then sit with that. Feeling uncomfortable might mean you are beginning to understand.

I also heard about the excellent book “White Fragility,” by Robin DiAngelo, PhD. In it, she argues that it is difficult for white people to talk about racism because of a tendency to react with defensiveness, guilt, and sometimes anger.

Many of the chapters in the book were easy to read because they didn’t apply to me: I don’t get angry in equity, inclusion, and diversity meetings. I don’t resent affirmative action programs. But then Dr. DiAngelo got me: I believed because I’m a good person and I have no intention of being racist, I’m absolved. Her argument was enlightening. Like all white people in the United States, I have benefited from white privilege. Yes, I’ve worked hard, but I also grew up in a white family with a college-educated father. That alone afforded me academic and financial advantages, which pushed me ahead. I’ve benefited from the status quo.

I have also failed to speak up when white friends carried on about how unnecessary affirmative action programs have become. I’ve sat with sealed lips when I’ve heard comments like “As a white male, it’s a lot harder to get into prestigious schools now.” Having no intention to harm doesn’t matter; plenty of harm is done unintentionally.

I also believed that because I have good intentions, I have no racial bias. I was wrong. The test I took online is an excellent tool to combat this blind spot. It was created by Harvard researchers and is available to everyone: Take a Test. It asks you to categorize faces as good or bad and records your tiny reaction times. Based on these and other questions, it provides feedback on your personal biases.

I was surprised that I have an implicit preference for white people over black people. That’s the point. Most of us are unaware of our biases and falsely believe we are free of them. I encourage you to take the test and learn about yourself. If the result makes you uncomfortable, then sit with it. Try not to be defensive, as I was, and accept that, even if you are a good person, you can become a better one.

Based on what I’ve learned and heard in the last few weeks, I’ve committed to a few things: To acknowledge the harm done to my black and brown colleagues and my complicity even by acts of omission. To not avoid uncomfortable feelings or uncomfortable conversations. As a leader, to use my organizational status to advocate. To stand by my partners of color not only in dramatic one-time marches but also against the everyday perpetrators of microaggressions. To create a safe space and invite my colleagues, staff, friends, and patients to share.

Standing up against racism is all our responsibility. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminds us: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
 

Dr. Benabio is director of healthcare transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. He has no disclosures related to this column. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

I have an automatic preference for white people over black people. This isn’t my opinion; rather, it is my implicit bias test result. I didn’t believe it at first. Trying hard to not be biased, I took the test again and received the same outcome. My reaction – disbelief – is typical for those like me: White people who believe they are good human beings. I might be good, but that doesn’t mean I’m free of bias or exonerated from the harm being inflicted on people of color.

We’ve all watched in horror the acts of violence against blacks in the news. I was shocked and disgusted. It was easy to believe, however, that I am in no way complicit in the injustice and racism I was watching. I think I’m fair and without prejudice. I have never intentionally discriminated against someone. Wanting to help, I listened to my black colleagues, staff, and patients. What I learned made me uncomfortable.

Through all this news, I’d said little to my colleagues and friends. I cannot identify with how a black person has felt recently. What if I said the wrong thing or caused offense? The safe option is to say nothing. I learned that this is a common reaction and the least helpful. The advice from one black colleague was simple: “Just ask us.” Instead of ignoring the issue, she advised me to say: “I wonder what this experience has been like for you. Would you like to share?” And, if you mean it, to add, “I stand with you.” The latter should be followed by “What can I do to help?” Or, more powerfully, “What have I done that makes me complicit?”

Some of these conversations will be uncomfortable. If you want to help, then sit with that. Feeling uncomfortable might mean you are beginning to understand.

I also heard about the excellent book “White Fragility,” by Robin DiAngelo, PhD. In it, she argues that it is difficult for white people to talk about racism because of a tendency to react with defensiveness, guilt, and sometimes anger.

Many of the chapters in the book were easy to read because they didn’t apply to me: I don’t get angry in equity, inclusion, and diversity meetings. I don’t resent affirmative action programs. But then Dr. DiAngelo got me: I believed because I’m a good person and I have no intention of being racist, I’m absolved. Her argument was enlightening. Like all white people in the United States, I have benefited from white privilege. Yes, I’ve worked hard, but I also grew up in a white family with a college-educated father. That alone afforded me academic and financial advantages, which pushed me ahead. I’ve benefited from the status quo.

I have also failed to speak up when white friends carried on about how unnecessary affirmative action programs have become. I’ve sat with sealed lips when I’ve heard comments like “As a white male, it’s a lot harder to get into prestigious schools now.” Having no intention to harm doesn’t matter; plenty of harm is done unintentionally.

I also believed that because I have good intentions, I have no racial bias. I was wrong. The test I took online is an excellent tool to combat this blind spot. It was created by Harvard researchers and is available to everyone: Take a Test. It asks you to categorize faces as good or bad and records your tiny reaction times. Based on these and other questions, it provides feedback on your personal biases.

I was surprised that I have an implicit preference for white people over black people. That’s the point. Most of us are unaware of our biases and falsely believe we are free of them. I encourage you to take the test and learn about yourself. If the result makes you uncomfortable, then sit with it. Try not to be defensive, as I was, and accept that, even if you are a good person, you can become a better one.

Based on what I’ve learned and heard in the last few weeks, I’ve committed to a few things: To acknowledge the harm done to my black and brown colleagues and my complicity even by acts of omission. To not avoid uncomfortable feelings or uncomfortable conversations. As a leader, to use my organizational status to advocate. To stand by my partners of color not only in dramatic one-time marches but also against the everyday perpetrators of microaggressions. To create a safe space and invite my colleagues, staff, friends, and patients to share.

Standing up against racism is all our responsibility. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. reminds us: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
 

Dr. Benabio is director of healthcare transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. He has no disclosures related to this column. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected].

Lung ultrasound has “high concordance” with radiologic findings in children with COVID-19, researchers wrote in Pediatrics.

They also noted the benefits that modality provides over other imaging techniques.

Marco Denina, MD, and colleagues from the pediatric infectious diseases unit at Regina Margherita Children’s Hospital in Turin, Italy, performed an observational study of eight children aged 0-17 years who were admitted to the hospital for COVID-19 between March 8 and 26, 2020. In seven of eight patients, the findings were concordant between imaging modalities; in the remaining patient, lung ultrasound (LUS) found an interstitial B-lines pattern that was not seen on radiography. In seven patients with pathologic ultrasound findings at baseline, the improvement or resolution of the subpleural consolidations or interstitial patterns was consistent with concomitant radiologic findings.

The authors cited the benefits of using point-of-care ultrasound instead of other modalities, such as CT. “First, it may reduce the number of radiologic examinations, lowering the radiation exposure of the patients,” they wrote. “Secondly, when performed at the bedside, LUS allows for the reduction of the patient’s movement within the hospital; thus, it lowers the number of health care workers and medical devices exposed to [SARS-CoV-2].”

One limitation of the study is the small sample size; however, the researchers felt the high concordance still suggests LUS is a reasonable method for COVID-19 patients.

There was no external funding for this study and the investigators had no relevant financial disclosures.

[email protected]

SOURCE: Denina M et al. Pediatrics. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1542/peds.2020-1157.

Lung ultrasound has “high concordance” with radiologic findings in children with COVID-19, researchers wrote in Pediatrics.

They also noted the benefits that modality provides over other imaging techniques.

Marco Denina, MD, and colleagues from the pediatric infectious diseases unit at Regina Margherita Children’s Hospital in Turin, Italy, performed an observational study of eight children aged 0-17 years who were admitted to the hospital for COVID-19 between March 8 and 26, 2020. In seven of eight patients, the findings were concordant between imaging modalities; in the remaining patient, lung ultrasound (LUS) found an interstitial B-lines pattern that was not seen on radiography. In seven patients with pathologic ultrasound findings at baseline, the improvement or resolution of the subpleural consolidations or interstitial patterns was consistent with concomitant radiologic findings.

The authors cited the benefits of using point-of-care ultrasound instead of other modalities, such as CT. “First, it may reduce the number of radiologic examinations, lowering the radiation exposure of the patients,” they wrote. “Secondly, when performed at the bedside, LUS allows for the reduction of the patient’s movement within the hospital; thus, it lowers the number of health care workers and medical devices exposed to [SARS-CoV-2].”

One limitation of the study is the small sample size; however, the researchers felt the high concordance still suggests LUS is a reasonable method for COVID-19 patients.

There was no external funding for this study and the investigators had no relevant financial disclosures.

[email protected]

SOURCE: Denina M et al. Pediatrics. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1542/peds.2020-1157.

Lung ultrasound has “high concordance” with radiologic findings in children with COVID-19, researchers wrote in Pediatrics.

They also noted the benefits that modality provides over other imaging techniques.

Marco Denina, MD, and colleagues from the pediatric infectious diseases unit at Regina Margherita Children’s Hospital in Turin, Italy, performed an observational study of eight children aged 0-17 years who were admitted to the hospital for COVID-19 between March 8 and 26, 2020. In seven of eight patients, the findings were concordant between imaging modalities; in the remaining patient, lung ultrasound (LUS) found an interstitial B-lines pattern that was not seen on radiography. In seven patients with pathologic ultrasound findings at baseline, the improvement or resolution of the subpleural consolidations or interstitial patterns was consistent with concomitant radiologic findings.

The authors cited the benefits of using point-of-care ultrasound instead of other modalities, such as CT. “First, it may reduce the number of radiologic examinations, lowering the radiation exposure of the patients,” they wrote. “Secondly, when performed at the bedside, LUS allows for the reduction of the patient’s movement within the hospital; thus, it lowers the number of health care workers and medical devices exposed to [SARS-CoV-2].”

One limitation of the study is the small sample size; however, the researchers felt the high concordance still suggests LUS is a reasonable method for COVID-19 patients.

There was no external funding for this study and the investigators had no relevant financial disclosures.

[email protected]

SOURCE: Denina M et al. Pediatrics. 2020 Jun. doi: 10.1542/peds.2020-1157.

One might immediately think of the deaths of Eric Garner, George Floyd, or even the fictional character Radio Raheem from Spike Lee’s critically acclaimed film, “Do the Right Thing,” when they hear the words “I can’t breathe.” These words are a cry for help. The deaths of these unarmed black men is devastating and has led to a state of rage, palpable pain, and protest across the world.

However, in this moment, I am talking about the health inequity exposed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Whether it be acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) secondary to severe COVID-19, or the subsequent hypercoagulable state of COVID-19 that leads to venous thromboembolism, many black people in this country are left breathless. Many black patients who had no employee-based health insurance also had no primary care physician to order a SARS-CoV2 PCR lab test for them. Many of these patients have preexisting conditions, such as asthma from living in redlined communities affected by environmental racism. Many grew up in food deserts, where no fresh-produce store was interested enough to set up shop in their neighborhoods. They have been eating fast food since early childhood, as a fast-food burger is still cheaper than a salad. The result is obesity, an epidemic that can lead to diabetes mellitus, hypertension that can lead to coronary artery disease, stroke, and end-stage renal disease. 

Earlier in my career, I once had a colleague gleefully tell me that all black people drank Kool-Aid while in discussion of the effects of high-sugar diets in our patients; this colleague was sure I would agree. Not all black people drink Kool-Aid. Secondary to my fear of the backlash that can come from the discomfort of “white fragility” that Robin DiAngelo describes in her New York Times bestseller by the same name, ”White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism,” I refrained from expressing my own hurt, and I did not offer explicit correction. I, instead, took a serious pause. That pause, which lasted only minutes, seemed to last 400 years. It was a brief reflection of the 400 years of systemic racism seeping into everyday life. This included the circumstances that would lead to the health inequities that result in the health disparities from which many black patients suffer. It is that same systemic racism that could create two America’s in which my colleague might not have to know the historic context in which that question could be hurtful. I retorted with modified shock and a chuckle so that I could muster up enough strength to repeat what was said and leave it open for reflection. The goal was for my colleague to realize the obvious implicit bias that lingered, despite intention. The chuckle was also to cover my pain.

Whether we know it or not, we all carry some form of implicit bias, regardless of race, class, gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, or socioeconomic status. In this case, it is the same implicit bias that causes physicians to ignore some black patients when they have said that they are in pain. A groundbreaking April 2016 article in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, “Racial Bias in Pain Assessment and Treatment Recommendations, and False Beliefs about Biological Differences Between Blacks and Whites” (doi: 10.1073/pnas.1516047113), revealed that racial disparities in pain assessment and treatment recommendations can be directly connected to the racial bias of the provider. It could be possible that this phenomenon has affected black patients who have walked into clinics and emergency departments and said, “I’m short of breath. I think that I might have coronavirus and need to be tested.” It may be that same implicit bias that has cut the air supply to a patient encounter. Instead of inquiring further, the patient might be met with minimum questions while their provider obtains their history and physical. Assumptions and blame on behavior and lack of personal responsibility secretly replace questions that could have been asked. Differentials between exacerbations and other etiologies are not explored. Could that patient have been sent home without a SARS-CoV2 polymerase chain reaction test? Well, what if the tests were in short supply? Sometimes they may have been sent home without a chest x-ray. In most cases, there are no funds to send them home with a pulse oximeter.

The act of assuming a person’s story that we consider to be one dimensional is always dangerous – and even more so during this pandemic. That person we can relate to – secondary to a cool pop culture moment, a TikTok song, or a negative stereotype – is not one dimensional. That assumption and that stereotype can make room for implicit bias. That same implicit bias is the knee on a neck of any marginalized patient. Implicit bias is the choke hold that slowly removes the light and life from a person who has a story, who has a family, and who has been an essential worker who can’t work from home. That person is telling us that they can’t breathe, but sometimes the only things seen are comorbidities through a misinformed or biased lens that suggest an assumed lack of personal responsibility. In a May 2020 New England Journal of Medicine perspective, “Racial health disparities and Covid-19” (doi: 10.1056/NEJMp2012910), Merlin Chowkwanyun, PhD, MPH, and Adolph L. Reed Jr., PhD, caution us against creating race-based explanations for presumed behavioral patterns.

Systemic racism has created the myth that the playing field has been leveled since the end of enslavement. It hasn’t. That black man, woman, or nonbinary person is telling you “I can’t breathe. I’m tired. I’m short of breath ... I have a cough ... I’m feeling weak these days, Doc.” However, implicit bias is still that knee that won’t let up. It has not let up. Communities with lower-income black and Hispanic patients have already seen local hospitals and frontline workers fight to save their lives while losing their own to COVID-19. We all witnessed the battle for scarce resources and PPE [personal protective equipment]. In contrast, some wealthy neighborhoods have occupants who most likely have access to a primary care physician and more testing centers.

As we reexamine ourselves and look at these cases of police brutality against unarmed black men, women, and children with the appropriate shame and outrage, let us reflect upon the privileges that we enjoy. Let us find our voice as we speak up for black lives. Let us look deeply into the history of medicine as it relates to black patients by reading “Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present” by Harriet A. Washington. Let us examine that painful legacy, which, while having moments of good intention, still carries the stain of indifference, racism, neglect, and even experimentation without informed consent.

Why should we do these things? Because some of our black patients have also yelled or whispered, “I can’t breathe,” and we were not always listening either.
 

Dr. Ajala is a hospitalist and associate site director for education at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. She is a member of the executive council for SHM’s Care for Vulnerable Populations special interest group.

One might immediately think of the deaths of Eric Garner, George Floyd, or even the fictional character Radio Raheem from Spike Lee’s critically acclaimed film, “Do the Right Thing,” when they hear the words “I can’t breathe.” These words are a cry for help. The deaths of these unarmed black men is devastating and has led to a state of rage, palpable pain, and protest across the world.

However, in this moment, I am talking about the health inequity exposed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Whether it be acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) secondary to severe COVID-19, or the subsequent hypercoagulable state of COVID-19 that leads to venous thromboembolism, many black people in this country are left breathless. Many black patients who had no employee-based health insurance also had no primary care physician to order a SARS-CoV2 PCR lab test for them. Many of these patients have preexisting conditions, such as asthma from living in redlined communities affected by environmental racism. Many grew up in food deserts, where no fresh-produce store was interested enough to set up shop in their neighborhoods. They have been eating fast food since early childhood, as a fast-food burger is still cheaper than a salad. The result is obesity, an epidemic that can lead to diabetes mellitus, hypertension that can lead to coronary artery disease, stroke, and end-stage renal disease. 

Earlier in my career, I once had a colleague gleefully tell me that all black people drank Kool-Aid while in discussion of the effects of high-sugar diets in our patients; this colleague was sure I would agree. Not all black people drink Kool-Aid. Secondary to my fear of the backlash that can come from the discomfort of “white fragility” that Robin DiAngelo describes in her New York Times bestseller by the same name, ”White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism,” I refrained from expressing my own hurt, and I did not offer explicit correction. I, instead, took a serious pause. That pause, which lasted only minutes, seemed to last 400 years. It was a brief reflection of the 400 years of systemic racism seeping into everyday life. This included the circumstances that would lead to the health inequities that result in the health disparities from which many black patients suffer. It is that same systemic racism that could create two America’s in which my colleague might not have to know the historic context in which that question could be hurtful. I retorted with modified shock and a chuckle so that I could muster up enough strength to repeat what was said and leave it open for reflection. The goal was for my colleague to realize the obvious implicit bias that lingered, despite intention. The chuckle was also to cover my pain.

Whether we know it or not, we all carry some form of implicit bias, regardless of race, class, gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, or socioeconomic status. In this case, it is the same implicit bias that causes physicians to ignore some black patients when they have said that they are in pain. A groundbreaking April 2016 article in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, “Racial Bias in Pain Assessment and Treatment Recommendations, and False Beliefs about Biological Differences Between Blacks and Whites” (doi: 10.1073/pnas.1516047113), revealed that racial disparities in pain assessment and treatment recommendations can be directly connected to the racial bias of the provider. It could be possible that this phenomenon has affected black patients who have walked into clinics and emergency departments and said, “I’m short of breath. I think that I might have coronavirus and need to be tested.” It may be that same implicit bias that has cut the air supply to a patient encounter. Instead of inquiring further, the patient might be met with minimum questions while their provider obtains their history and physical. Assumptions and blame on behavior and lack of personal responsibility secretly replace questions that could have been asked. Differentials between exacerbations and other etiologies are not explored. Could that patient have been sent home without a SARS-CoV2 polymerase chain reaction test? Well, what if the tests were in short supply? Sometimes they may have been sent home without a chest x-ray. In most cases, there are no funds to send them home with a pulse oximeter.

The act of assuming a person’s story that we consider to be one dimensional is always dangerous – and even more so during this pandemic. That person we can relate to – secondary to a cool pop culture moment, a TikTok song, or a negative stereotype – is not one dimensional. That assumption and that stereotype can make room for implicit bias. That same implicit bias is the knee on a neck of any marginalized patient. Implicit bias is the choke hold that slowly removes the light and life from a person who has a story, who has a family, and who has been an essential worker who can’t work from home. That person is telling us that they can’t breathe, but sometimes the only things seen are comorbidities through a misinformed or biased lens that suggest an assumed lack of personal responsibility. In a May 2020 New England Journal of Medicine perspective, “Racial health disparities and Covid-19” (doi: 10.1056/NEJMp2012910), Merlin Chowkwanyun, PhD, MPH, and Adolph L. Reed Jr., PhD, caution us against creating race-based explanations for presumed behavioral patterns.

Systemic racism has created the myth that the playing field has been leveled since the end of enslavement. It hasn’t. That black man, woman, or nonbinary person is telling you “I can’t breathe. I’m tired. I’m short of breath ... I have a cough ... I’m feeling weak these days, Doc.” However, implicit bias is still that knee that won’t let up. It has not let up. Communities with lower-income black and Hispanic patients have already seen local hospitals and frontline workers fight to save their lives while losing their own to COVID-19. We all witnessed the battle for scarce resources and PPE [personal protective equipment]. In contrast, some wealthy neighborhoods have occupants who most likely have access to a primary care physician and more testing centers.

As we reexamine ourselves and look at these cases of police brutality against unarmed black men, women, and children with the appropriate shame and outrage, let us reflect upon the privileges that we enjoy. Let us find our voice as we speak up for black lives. Let us look deeply into the history of medicine as it relates to black patients by reading “Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present” by Harriet A. Washington. Let us examine that painful legacy, which, while having moments of good intention, still carries the stain of indifference, racism, neglect, and even experimentation without informed consent.

Why should we do these things? Because some of our black patients have also yelled or whispered, “I can’t breathe,” and we were not always listening either.
 

Dr. Ajala is a hospitalist and associate site director for education at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. She is a member of the executive council for SHM’s Care for Vulnerable Populations special interest group.

One might immediately think of the deaths of Eric Garner, George Floyd, or even the fictional character Radio Raheem from Spike Lee’s critically acclaimed film, “Do the Right Thing,” when they hear the words “I can’t breathe.” These words are a cry for help. The deaths of these unarmed black men is devastating and has led to a state of rage, palpable pain, and protest across the world.

However, in this moment, I am talking about the health inequity exposed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Whether it be acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) secondary to severe COVID-19, or the subsequent hypercoagulable state of COVID-19 that leads to venous thromboembolism, many black people in this country are left breathless. Many black patients who had no employee-based health insurance also had no primary care physician to order a SARS-CoV2 PCR lab test for them. Many of these patients have preexisting conditions, such as asthma from living in redlined communities affected by environmental racism. Many grew up in food deserts, where no fresh-produce store was interested enough to set up shop in their neighborhoods. They have been eating fast food since early childhood, as a fast-food burger is still cheaper than a salad. The result is obesity, an epidemic that can lead to diabetes mellitus, hypertension that can lead to coronary artery disease, stroke, and end-stage renal disease. 

Earlier in my career, I once had a colleague gleefully tell me that all black people drank Kool-Aid while in discussion of the effects of high-sugar diets in our patients; this colleague was sure I would agree. Not all black people drink Kool-Aid. Secondary to my fear of the backlash that can come from the discomfort of “white fragility” that Robin DiAngelo describes in her New York Times bestseller by the same name, ”White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism,” I refrained from expressing my own hurt, and I did not offer explicit correction. I, instead, took a serious pause. That pause, which lasted only minutes, seemed to last 400 years. It was a brief reflection of the 400 years of systemic racism seeping into everyday life. This included the circumstances that would lead to the health inequities that result in the health disparities from which many black patients suffer. It is that same systemic racism that could create two America’s in which my colleague might not have to know the historic context in which that question could be hurtful. I retorted with modified shock and a chuckle so that I could muster up enough strength to repeat what was said and leave it open for reflection. The goal was for my colleague to realize the obvious implicit bias that lingered, despite intention. The chuckle was also to cover my pain.

Whether we know it or not, we all carry some form of implicit bias, regardless of race, class, gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, or socioeconomic status. In this case, it is the same implicit bias that causes physicians to ignore some black patients when they have said that they are in pain. A groundbreaking April 2016 article in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, “Racial Bias in Pain Assessment and Treatment Recommendations, and False Beliefs about Biological Differences Between Blacks and Whites” (doi: 10.1073/pnas.1516047113), revealed that racial disparities in pain assessment and treatment recommendations can be directly connected to the racial bias of the provider. It could be possible that this phenomenon has affected black patients who have walked into clinics and emergency departments and said, “I’m short of breath. I think that I might have coronavirus and need to be tested.” It may be that same implicit bias that has cut the air supply to a patient encounter. Instead of inquiring further, the patient might be met with minimum questions while their provider obtains their history and physical. Assumptions and blame on behavior and lack of personal responsibility secretly replace questions that could have been asked. Differentials between exacerbations and other etiologies are not explored. Could that patient have been sent home without a SARS-CoV2 polymerase chain reaction test? Well, what if the tests were in short supply? Sometimes they may have been sent home without a chest x-ray. In most cases, there are no funds to send them home with a pulse oximeter.

The act of assuming a person’s story that we consider to be one dimensional is always dangerous – and even more so during this pandemic. That person we can relate to – secondary to a cool pop culture moment, a TikTok song, or a negative stereotype – is not one dimensional. That assumption and that stereotype can make room for implicit bias. That same implicit bias is the knee on a neck of any marginalized patient. Implicit bias is the choke hold that slowly removes the light and life from a person who has a story, who has a family, and who has been an essential worker who can’t work from home. That person is telling us that they can’t breathe, but sometimes the only things seen are comorbidities through a misinformed or biased lens that suggest an assumed lack of personal responsibility. In a May 2020 New England Journal of Medicine perspective, “Racial health disparities and Covid-19” (doi: 10.1056/NEJMp2012910), Merlin Chowkwanyun, PhD, MPH, and Adolph L. Reed Jr., PhD, caution us against creating race-based explanations for presumed behavioral patterns.

Systemic racism has created the myth that the playing field has been leveled since the end of enslavement. It hasn’t. That black man, woman, or nonbinary person is telling you “I can’t breathe. I’m tired. I’m short of breath ... I have a cough ... I’m feeling weak these days, Doc.” However, implicit bias is still that knee that won’t let up. It has not let up. Communities with lower-income black and Hispanic patients have already seen local hospitals and frontline workers fight to save their lives while losing their own to COVID-19. We all witnessed the battle for scarce resources and PPE [personal protective equipment]. In contrast, some wealthy neighborhoods have occupants who most likely have access to a primary care physician and more testing centers.

As we reexamine ourselves and look at these cases of police brutality against unarmed black men, women, and children with the appropriate shame and outrage, let us reflect upon the privileges that we enjoy. Let us find our voice as we speak up for black lives. Let us look deeply into the history of medicine as it relates to black patients by reading “Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present” by Harriet A. Washington. Let us examine that painful legacy, which, while having moments of good intention, still carries the stain of indifference, racism, neglect, and even experimentation without informed consent.

Why should we do these things? Because some of our black patients have also yelled or whispered, “I can’t breathe,” and we were not always listening either.
 

Dr. Ajala is a hospitalist and associate site director for education at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. She is a member of the executive council for SHM’s Care for Vulnerable Populations special interest group.

When Stephen Tyring, MD, PhD, an infectious disease dermatologist, started his career in the early 1980s, he said “we were diagnosing Kaposi’s sarcoma right and left. We would see a new case every day or two.”

It was the early days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and dermatologists were at the forefront because HIV/AIDS often presented with skin manifestations. Dr. Tyring, clinical professor in the departments of dermatology, microbiology & molecular genetics and internal medicine at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston, and his colleagues referred Kaposi’s patients for chemotherapy and radiation, but the outlook was often grim, especially if lesions developed in the lungs.

Dermatologist don’t see much Kaposi’s anymore because of highly effective treatments for HIV. It highlights one of the major advances in infectious disease (ID) dermatology since Dermatology News published its first issue under the name Skin & Allergy News in January 1970: improved management of viral disease.

Members of the original editorial advisory board saw it coming. In a feature in which board members provided their prediction for the 1970s that appeared in the first issue, New York dermatologist Norman Orentreich, MD, counted the “probable introduction of virucidal agents” as one of the “significant advances or changes that I foresee in the next 10 years.” J. Lamar Callaway, MD, professor of dermatology at Duke University, Durham, N.C., predicted that “the next 10 years should develop effective anti-viral agents for warts, herpes simplex, and herpes zoster.”

“A lot of advancements against herpes viruses”

One of the biggest wins for ID dermatology over the last 5 decades has been the management of herpes, both herpes simplex virus 1 and 2, as well as herpes zoster virus. It started with the approval of acyclovir in 1981. Before then, “we had no direct therapy for genital herpes, herpes zoster, or disseminated herpes in immunosuppressed or cancer patients,” Dr. Rosen said.

“I can remember doing an interview with Good Morning America when I gave the first IV dose of acyclovir in the city of Houston for really bad disseminated herpes” in an HIV patient, he said, and it worked.

Two derivatives, valacyclovir and famciclovir, became available in the mid-1990s, so today “we have three drugs and some others at the periphery that are all highly effective not only” against herpes, but also for preventing outbreaks; valacyclovir can even prevent asymptomatic shedding, therefore possibly preventing new infections. “That’s a concept we didn’t even have 40 years ago,” Dr. Rosen said.

Cidofovir has also made a difference. The IV formulation was approved for AIDS-associated cytomegalovirus retinitis in 1996 but discontinued a few years later amid concerns of severe renal toxicity. It’s found a new home in dermatology since then, explained ID dermatologist Carrie Kovarik, MD, associate professor of dermatology at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

Dermatologists see acyclovir-resistant herpes “heaped up on the genitals in HIV patients,” and there weren’t many options in the past. A few years ago, “we [tried] injecting cidofovir directly into the skin lesions, and it’s been remarkably successful. It is a good way to treat these lesions” if dermatologists can get it compounded, she said.

Shingles vaccines, first the live attenuated zoster vaccine (Zostavax) approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2006 and the more effective recombinant zoster vaccine (Shingrix) approved in 2017, have also had a significant impact.

Dr. Rosen remembers what it was like when he first started practicing over 40 years ago. Not uncommonly, “we saw horrible cases of shingles,” including one in his uncle, who was left with permanent hand pain long after the rash subsided.

Today, “I see much less shingles, and when I do see it, it’s in a much-attenuated form. [Shingrix], even if it doesn’t prevent the disease, often prevents postherpetic neuralgia,” he said.

Also, with pediatric vaccinations against chicken pox, “we’re probably going to see a whole new generation without shingles, which is huge. We’ve made a lot of advancements against herpes viruses,” Dr. Kovarik said.
 

“We finally found something that helps”

“We’ve [also] come a really long way with genital wart treatment,” Dr. Kovarik said.

It started with approval of topical imiquimod in 1997. “Before that, we were just killing one wart here and one wart there” but they would often come back and pop up in other areas. Injectable interferon was an option at the time, but people didn’t like all the needles.

With imiquimod, “we finally [had] a way to target HPV [human papillomavirus] and not just scrape” or freeze one wart at a time, and “we were able to generate an inflammatory response in the whole area to clear the virus.” Working with HIV patients, “I see sheets and sheets of confluent warts throughout the whole genital area; to try to freeze that is impossible. Now I have a way to get rid of [genital] warts and keep them away even if you have a big cluster,” she said.

“Sometimes, we’ll do both liquid nitrogen and imiquimod. That’s a good way to tackle people who have a high burden of warts,” Dr. Kovarik noted. Other effective treatments have come out as well, including an ointment formulation of sinecatechins, extracted from green tea, “but you have to put it on several times a day, and insurance companies don’t cover it often,” she said.

Intralesional cidofovir is also proving to be boon for potentially malignant refractory warts in HIV and transplant patients. “It’s an incredible treatment. We can inject that antiviral into warts and get rid of them. We finally found something that helps” these people, Dr. Kovarik said.

The HPV vaccine Gardasil is making a difference, as well. In addition to cervical dysplasia and anogenital cancers, it protects against two condyloma strains. Dr. Rosen said he’s seeing fewer cases of genital warts now than when he started practicing, likely because of the vaccine.
 

“Organisms that weren’t pathogens are now pathogens”

Antibiotic resistance probably tops the list for what’s changed in a bad way in ID dermatology since 1970. Dr. Rosen remembers at the start of his career that “we never worried about antibiotic resistance. We’d put people on antibiotics for acne, rosacea, and we’d keep them on them for 3 years, 6 years”; resistance wasn’t on the radar screen and was not mentioned once in the first issue of Dermatology News, which was packed with articles and ran 24 pages.

The situation is different now. Driven by decades of overuse in agriculture and the medical system, antibiotic resistance is a concern throughout medicine, and unfortunately, “we have not come nearly as far as fast with antibiotics,” at least the ones dermatologists use, “as we have with antivirals,” Dr. Tyring said.

For instance, methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), first described in the United States in 1968, is “no longer the exception to the rule, but the rule” itself, he said, with carbuncles, furuncles, and abscesses not infrequently growing out MRSA. There are also new drug-resistant forms of old problems like gonorrhea and tuberculosis, among other developments, and impetigo has shifted since 1970 from mostly a Streptococcus infection easily treated with penicillin to often a Staphylococcus disease that’s resistant to it. There’s also been a steady march of new pathogens, including the latest one, SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, which has been recognized as having a variety of skin manifestations.

“No matter how smart we think we are, nature has a way of putting us back in our place,” Dr. Rosen said.

The bright spot is that “we’ve become very adept at identifying and characterizing” microbes “based on techniques we didn’t even have when I started practicing,” such as polymerase chain reaction. “It has taken a lot of guess work out of treating infectious diseases,” he said.

The widespread use of immunosuppressives such as cyclophosphamide, mycophenolate, azathioprine, rituximab, and other agents used in conjunction with solid organ transplantation, has also been a challenge. “We are seeing infections with really odd organisms. Just recently, I had a patient with fusarium in the skin; it’s a fungus that lives in the dirt. I saw a patient with a species of algae” that normally lives in stagnant water, he commented. “We used to get [things like that] back on reports, and we’d throw them away. You can’t do that anymore. Organisms that weren’t pathogens in the past are now pathogens,” particularly in immunosuppressed people, Dr. Rosen said.
 

Venereologists no more

There’s been another big change in the field. “Back in the not too distant past, dermatologists in the U.S. were referred to as ‘dermatologist-venereologists.’ ” It goes back to the time when syphilis wasn’t diagnosed and treated early, so patients often presented with secondary skin complications and went to dermatologists for help. As a result, “dermatologists became the most experienced at treating it,” Dr. Tyring said.

That’s faded from practice. Part of the reason is that as late as 2000, syphilis seemed to be on the way out; the Centers for Disease and Control and Prevention even raised the possibility of elimination. Dermatologists turned their attention to other areas.

It might have been short-sighted, Dr. Rosen said. Syphilis has made a strong comeback, and drug-resistant gonorrhea has also emerged globally and in at least a few states. No other medical field has stepped in to take up the slack. “Ob.gyns. are busy delivering babies, ID [physicians are] concerned about HIV, and urologists are worried about kidney stones and cancer.” Other than herpes and genital warts, “we have not done well” with management of sexually transmitted diseases, he said.
 

“I could sense” his frustration

The first issue of Dermatology News carried an article and photospread about scabies that could run today, except that topical permethrin and oral ivermectin have largely replaced benzyl benzoate and sulfur ointments for treatment in the United States. In the article, Scottish dermatologist J. O’D. Alexander, MD, called scabies “the scourge of mankind” and blamed it’s prevalence on “an offhand attitude to the disease which makes control very difficult.”

“I could sense this man’s frustration that people were not recognizing scabies,” Dr. Kovarik said, and it’s no closer to being eradicated than it was in 1970. “It’s still around, and we see it in our clinics. It’s a horrible disease in kids we see in dermatology not infrequently,” and treatment has only advanced a bit.

The article highlights what hasn’t changed much in ID dermatology over the years. Common warts are another one. “With all the evolution in medicine, we don’t have any better treatments approved for common warts than we ever had.” Injecting cidofovir “works great,” but access is a problem, Dr. Tyring said.

Onychomycosis has also proven a tough nut to crack. Readers back in 1970 counted the introduction of the antifungal, griseofulvin, as a major advancement in the 1960s; it’s still a go-to for tinea capitis, but it didn’t work very well for toenail fungus. Terbinafine (Lamisil), approved in 1993, and subsequent developments have helped, but the field still awaits more effective options; a few potential new agents are in the pipeline.

Although there have been major advancements for serious systemic fungal infections, “we’ve mainly seen small steps forward” in ID dermatology, Dr. Tyring said.

Dr. Tyring, Dr. Kovarik, and Dr. Rosen said they had no relevant disclosures.

[email protected]

When Stephen Tyring, MD, PhD, an infectious disease dermatologist, started his career in the early 1980s, he said “we were diagnosing Kaposi’s sarcoma right and left. We would see a new case every day or two.”

It was the early days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and dermatologists were at the forefront because HIV/AIDS often presented with skin manifestations. Dr. Tyring, clinical professor in the departments of dermatology, microbiology & molecular genetics and internal medicine at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston, and his colleagues referred Kaposi’s patients for chemotherapy and radiation, but the outlook was often grim, especially if lesions developed in the lungs.

Dermatologist don’t see much Kaposi’s anymore because of highly effective treatments for HIV. It highlights one of the major advances in infectious disease (ID) dermatology since Dermatology News published its first issue under the name Skin & Allergy News in January 1970: improved management of viral disease.

Members of the original editorial advisory board saw it coming. In a feature in which board members provided their prediction for the 1970s that appeared in the first issue, New York dermatologist Norman Orentreich, MD, counted the “probable introduction of virucidal agents” as one of the “significant advances or changes that I foresee in the next 10 years.” J. Lamar Callaway, MD, professor of dermatology at Duke University, Durham, N.C., predicted that “the next 10 years should develop effective anti-viral agents for warts, herpes simplex, and herpes zoster.”

“A lot of advancements against herpes viruses”

One of the biggest wins for ID dermatology over the last 5 decades has been the management of herpes, both herpes simplex virus 1 and 2, as well as herpes zoster virus. It started with the approval of acyclovir in 1981. Before then, “we had no direct therapy for genital herpes, herpes zoster, or disseminated herpes in immunosuppressed or cancer patients,” Dr. Rosen said.

“I can remember doing an interview with Good Morning America when I gave the first IV dose of acyclovir in the city of Houston for really bad disseminated herpes” in an HIV patient, he said, and it worked.

Two derivatives, valacyclovir and famciclovir, became available in the mid-1990s, so today “we have three drugs and some others at the periphery that are all highly effective not only” against herpes, but also for preventing outbreaks; valacyclovir can even prevent asymptomatic shedding, therefore possibly preventing new infections. “That’s a concept we didn’t even have 40 years ago,” Dr. Rosen said.

Cidofovir has also made a difference. The IV formulation was approved for AIDS-associated cytomegalovirus retinitis in 1996 but discontinued a few years later amid concerns of severe renal toxicity. It’s found a new home in dermatology since then, explained ID dermatologist Carrie Kovarik, MD, associate professor of dermatology at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

Dermatologists see acyclovir-resistant herpes “heaped up on the genitals in HIV patients,” and there weren’t many options in the past. A few years ago, “we [tried] injecting cidofovir directly into the skin lesions, and it’s been remarkably successful. It is a good way to treat these lesions” if dermatologists can get it compounded, she said.

Shingles vaccines, first the live attenuated zoster vaccine (Zostavax) approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2006 and the more effective recombinant zoster vaccine (Shingrix) approved in 2017, have also had a significant impact.

Dr. Rosen remembers what it was like when he first started practicing over 40 years ago. Not uncommonly, “we saw horrible cases of shingles,” including one in his uncle, who was left with permanent hand pain long after the rash subsided.

Today, “I see much less shingles, and when I do see it, it’s in a much-attenuated form. [Shingrix], even if it doesn’t prevent the disease, often prevents postherpetic neuralgia,” he said.

Also, with pediatric vaccinations against chicken pox, “we’re probably going to see a whole new generation without shingles, which is huge. We’ve made a lot of advancements against herpes viruses,” Dr. Kovarik said.
 

“We finally found something that helps”

“We’ve [also] come a really long way with genital wart treatment,” Dr. Kovarik said.

It started with approval of topical imiquimod in 1997. “Before that, we were just killing one wart here and one wart there” but they would often come back and pop up in other areas. Injectable interferon was an option at the time, but people didn’t like all the needles.

With imiquimod, “we finally [had] a way to target HPV [human papillomavirus] and not just scrape” or freeze one wart at a time, and “we were able to generate an inflammatory response in the whole area to clear the virus.” Working with HIV patients, “I see sheets and sheets of confluent warts throughout the whole genital area; to try to freeze that is impossible. Now I have a way to get rid of [genital] warts and keep them away even if you have a big cluster,” she said.

“Sometimes, we’ll do both liquid nitrogen and imiquimod. That’s a good way to tackle people who have a high burden of warts,” Dr. Kovarik noted. Other effective treatments have come out as well, including an ointment formulation of sinecatechins, extracted from green tea, “but you have to put it on several times a day, and insurance companies don’t cover it often,” she said.

Intralesional cidofovir is also proving to be boon for potentially malignant refractory warts in HIV and transplant patients. “It’s an incredible treatment. We can inject that antiviral into warts and get rid of them. We finally found something that helps” these people, Dr. Kovarik said.

The HPV vaccine Gardasil is making a difference, as well. In addition to cervical dysplasia and anogenital cancers, it protects against two condyloma strains. Dr. Rosen said he’s seeing fewer cases of genital warts now than when he started practicing, likely because of the vaccine.
 

“Organisms that weren’t pathogens are now pathogens”

Antibiotic resistance probably tops the list for what’s changed in a bad way in ID dermatology since 1970. Dr. Rosen remembers at the start of his career that “we never worried about antibiotic resistance. We’d put people on antibiotics for acne, rosacea, and we’d keep them on them for 3 years, 6 years”; resistance wasn’t on the radar screen and was not mentioned once in the first issue of Dermatology News, which was packed with articles and ran 24 pages.

The situation is different now. Driven by decades of overuse in agriculture and the medical system, antibiotic resistance is a concern throughout medicine, and unfortunately, “we have not come nearly as far as fast with antibiotics,” at least the ones dermatologists use, “as we have with antivirals,” Dr. Tyring said.

For instance, methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), first described in the United States in 1968, is “no longer the exception to the rule, but the rule” itself, he said, with carbuncles, furuncles, and abscesses not infrequently growing out MRSA. There are also new drug-resistant forms of old problems like gonorrhea and tuberculosis, among other developments, and impetigo has shifted since 1970 from mostly a Streptococcus infection easily treated with penicillin to often a Staphylococcus disease that’s resistant to it. There’s also been a steady march of new pathogens, including the latest one, SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, which has been recognized as having a variety of skin manifestations.

“No matter how smart we think we are, nature has a way of putting us back in our place,” Dr. Rosen said.

The bright spot is that “we’ve become very adept at identifying and characterizing” microbes “based on techniques we didn’t even have when I started practicing,” such as polymerase chain reaction. “It has taken a lot of guess work out of treating infectious diseases,” he said.

The widespread use of immunosuppressives such as cyclophosphamide, mycophenolate, azathioprine, rituximab, and other agents used in conjunction with solid organ transplantation, has also been a challenge. “We are seeing infections with really odd organisms. Just recently, I had a patient with fusarium in the skin; it’s a fungus that lives in the dirt. I saw a patient with a species of algae” that normally lives in stagnant water, he commented. “We used to get [things like that] back on reports, and we’d throw them away. You can’t do that anymore. Organisms that weren’t pathogens in the past are now pathogens,” particularly in immunosuppressed people, Dr. Rosen said.
 

Venereologists no more

There’s been another big change in the field. “Back in the not too distant past, dermatologists in the U.S. were referred to as ‘dermatologist-venereologists.’ ” It goes back to the time when syphilis wasn’t diagnosed and treated early, so patients often presented with secondary skin complications and went to dermatologists for help. As a result, “dermatologists became the most experienced at treating it,” Dr. Tyring said.

That’s faded from practice. Part of the reason is that as late as 2000, syphilis seemed to be on the way out; the Centers for Disease and Control and Prevention even raised the possibility of elimination. Dermatologists turned their attention to other areas.

It might have been short-sighted, Dr. Rosen said. Syphilis has made a strong comeback, and drug-resistant gonorrhea has also emerged globally and in at least a few states. No other medical field has stepped in to take up the slack. “Ob.gyns. are busy delivering babies, ID [physicians are] concerned about HIV, and urologists are worried about kidney stones and cancer.” Other than herpes and genital warts, “we have not done well” with management of sexually transmitted diseases, he said.
 

“I could sense” his frustration

The first issue of Dermatology News carried an article and photospread about scabies that could run today, except that topical permethrin and oral ivermectin have largely replaced benzyl benzoate and sulfur ointments for treatment in the United States. In the article, Scottish dermatologist J. O’D. Alexander, MD, called scabies “the scourge of mankind” and blamed it’s prevalence on “an offhand attitude to the disease which makes control very difficult.”

“I could sense this man’s frustration that people were not recognizing scabies,” Dr. Kovarik said, and it’s no closer to being eradicated than it was in 1970. “It’s still around, and we see it in our clinics. It’s a horrible disease in kids we see in dermatology not infrequently,” and treatment has only advanced a bit.

The article highlights what hasn’t changed much in ID dermatology over the years. Common warts are another one. “With all the evolution in medicine, we don’t have any better treatments approved for common warts than we ever had.” Injecting cidofovir “works great,” but access is a problem, Dr. Tyring said.

Onychomycosis has also proven a tough nut to crack. Readers back in 1970 counted the introduction of the antifungal, griseofulvin, as a major advancement in the 1960s; it’s still a go-to for tinea capitis, but it didn’t work very well for toenail fungus. Terbinafine (Lamisil), approved in 1993, and subsequent developments have helped, but the field still awaits more effective options; a few potential new agents are in the pipeline.

Although there have been major advancements for serious systemic fungal infections, “we’ve mainly seen small steps forward” in ID dermatology, Dr. Tyring said.

Dr. Tyring, Dr. Kovarik, and Dr. Rosen said they had no relevant disclosures.

[email protected]

When Stephen Tyring, MD, PhD, an infectious disease dermatologist, started his career in the early 1980s, he said “we were diagnosing Kaposi’s sarcoma right and left. We would see a new case every day or two.”

It was the early days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and dermatologists were at the forefront because HIV/AIDS often presented with skin manifestations. Dr. Tyring, clinical professor in the departments of dermatology, microbiology & molecular genetics and internal medicine at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston, and his colleagues referred Kaposi’s patients for chemotherapy and radiation, but the outlook was often grim, especially if lesions developed in the lungs.

Dermatologist don’t see much Kaposi’s anymore because of highly effective treatments for HIV. It highlights one of the major advances in infectious disease (ID) dermatology since Dermatology News published its first issue under the name Skin & Allergy News in January 1970: improved management of viral disease.

Members of the original editorial advisory board saw it coming. In a feature in which board members provided their prediction for the 1970s that appeared in the first issue, New York dermatologist Norman Orentreich, MD, counted the “probable introduction of virucidal agents” as one of the “significant advances or changes that I foresee in the next 10 years.” J. Lamar Callaway, MD, professor of dermatology at Duke University, Durham, N.C., predicted that “the next 10 years should develop effective anti-viral agents for warts, herpes simplex, and herpes zoster.”

“A lot of advancements against herpes viruses”

One of the biggest wins for ID dermatology over the last 5 decades has been the management of herpes, both herpes simplex virus 1 and 2, as well as herpes zoster virus. It started with the approval of acyclovir in 1981. Before then, “we had no direct therapy for genital herpes, herpes zoster, or disseminated herpes in immunosuppressed or cancer patients,” Dr. Rosen said.

“I can remember doing an interview with Good Morning America when I gave the first IV dose of acyclovir in the city of Houston for really bad disseminated herpes” in an HIV patient, he said, and it worked.

Two derivatives, valacyclovir and famciclovir, became available in the mid-1990s, so today “we have three drugs and some others at the periphery that are all highly effective not only” against herpes, but also for preventing outbreaks; valacyclovir can even prevent asymptomatic shedding, therefore possibly preventing new infections. “That’s a concept we didn’t even have 40 years ago,” Dr. Rosen said.

Cidofovir has also made a difference. The IV formulation was approved for AIDS-associated cytomegalovirus retinitis in 1996 but discontinued a few years later amid concerns of severe renal toxicity. It’s found a new home in dermatology since then, explained ID dermatologist Carrie Kovarik, MD, associate professor of dermatology at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

Dermatologists see acyclovir-resistant herpes “heaped up on the genitals in HIV patients,” and there weren’t many options in the past. A few years ago, “we [tried] injecting cidofovir directly into the skin lesions, and it’s been remarkably successful. It is a good way to treat these lesions” if dermatologists can get it compounded, she said.

Shingles vaccines, first the live attenuated zoster vaccine (Zostavax) approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2006 and the more effective recombinant zoster vaccine (Shingrix) approved in 2017, have also had a significant impact.

Dr. Rosen remembers what it was like when he first started practicing over 40 years ago. Not uncommonly, “we saw horrible cases of shingles,” including one in his uncle, who was left with permanent hand pain long after the rash subsided.

Today, “I see much less shingles, and when I do see it, it’s in a much-attenuated form. [Shingrix], even if it doesn’t prevent the disease, often prevents postherpetic neuralgia,” he said.

Also, with pediatric vaccinations against chicken pox, “we’re probably going to see a whole new generation without shingles, which is huge. We’ve made a lot of advancements against herpes viruses,” Dr. Kovarik said.
 

“We finally found something that helps”

“We’ve [also] come a really long way with genital wart treatment,” Dr. Kovarik said.

It started with approval of topical imiquimod in 1997. “Before that, we were just killing one wart here and one wart there” but they would often come back and pop up in other areas. Injectable interferon was an option at the time, but people didn’t like all the needles.

With imiquimod, “we finally [had] a way to target HPV [human papillomavirus] and not just scrape” or freeze one wart at a time, and “we were able to generate an inflammatory response in the whole area to clear the virus.” Working with HIV patients, “I see sheets and sheets of confluent warts throughout the whole genital area; to try to freeze that is impossible. Now I have a way to get rid of [genital] warts and keep them away even if you have a big cluster,” she said.

“Sometimes, we’ll do both liquid nitrogen and imiquimod. That’s a good way to tackle people who have a high burden of warts,” Dr. Kovarik noted. Other effective treatments have come out as well, including an ointment formulation of sinecatechins, extracted from green tea, “but you have to put it on several times a day, and insurance companies don’t cover it often,” she said.

Intralesional cidofovir is also proving to be boon for potentially malignant refractory warts in HIV and transplant patients. “It’s an incredible treatment. We can inject that antiviral into warts and get rid of them. We finally found something that helps” these people, Dr. Kovarik said.

The HPV vaccine Gardasil is making a difference, as well. In addition to cervical dysplasia and anogenital cancers, it protects against two condyloma strains. Dr. Rosen said he’s seeing fewer cases of genital warts now than when he started practicing, likely because of the vaccine.
 

“Organisms that weren’t pathogens are now pathogens”

Antibiotic resistance probably tops the list for what’s changed in a bad way in ID dermatology since 1970. Dr. Rosen remembers at the start of his career that “we never worried about antibiotic resistance. We’d put people on antibiotics for acne, rosacea, and we’d keep them on them for 3 years, 6 years”; resistance wasn’t on the radar screen and was not mentioned once in the first issue of Dermatology News, which was packed with articles and ran 24 pages.

The situation is different now. Driven by decades of overuse in agriculture and the medical system, antibiotic resistance is a concern throughout medicine, and unfortunately, “we have not come nearly as far as fast with antibiotics,” at least the ones dermatologists use, “as we have with antivirals,” Dr. Tyring said.

For instance, methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), first described in the United States in 1968, is “no longer the exception to the rule, but the rule” itself, he said, with carbuncles, furuncles, and abscesses not infrequently growing out MRSA. There are also new drug-resistant forms of old problems like gonorrhea and tuberculosis, among other developments, and impetigo has shifted since 1970 from mostly a Streptococcus infection easily treated with penicillin to often a Staphylococcus disease that’s resistant to it. There’s also been a steady march of new pathogens, including the latest one, SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, which has been recognized as having a variety of skin manifestations.

“No matter how smart we think we are, nature has a way of putting us back in our place,” Dr. Rosen said.

The bright spot is that “we’ve become very adept at identifying and characterizing” microbes “based on techniques we didn’t even have when I started practicing,” such as polymerase chain reaction. “It has taken a lot of guess work out of treating infectious diseases,” he said.

The widespread use of immunosuppressives such as cyclophosphamide, mycophenolate, azathioprine, rituximab, and other agents used in conjunction with solid organ transplantation, has also been a challenge. “We are seeing infections with really odd organisms. Just recently, I had a patient with fusarium in the skin; it’s a fungus that lives in the dirt. I saw a patient with a species of algae” that normally lives in stagnant water, he commented. “We used to get [things like that] back on reports, and we’d throw them away. You can’t do that anymore. Organisms that weren’t pathogens in the past are now pathogens,” particularly in immunosuppressed people, Dr. Rosen said.
 

Venereologists no more

There’s been another big change in the field. “Back in the not too distant past, dermatologists in the U.S. were referred to as ‘dermatologist-venereologists.’ ” It goes back to the time when syphilis wasn’t diagnosed and treated early, so patients often presented with secondary skin complications and went to dermatologists for help. As a result, “dermatologists became the most experienced at treating it,” Dr. Tyring said.

That’s faded from practice. Part of the reason is that as late as 2000, syphilis seemed to be on the way out; the Centers for Disease and Control and Prevention even raised the possibility of elimination. Dermatologists turned their attention to other areas.

It might have been short-sighted, Dr. Rosen said. Syphilis has made a strong comeback, and drug-resistant gonorrhea has also emerged globally and in at least a few states. No other medical field has stepped in to take up the slack. “Ob.gyns. are busy delivering babies, ID [physicians are] concerned about HIV, and urologists are worried about kidney stones and cancer.” Other than herpes and genital warts, “we have not done well” with management of sexually transmitted diseases, he said.
 

“I could sense” his frustration

The first issue of Dermatology News carried an article and photospread about scabies that could run today, except that topical permethrin and oral ivermectin have largely replaced benzyl benzoate and sulfur ointments for treatment in the United States. In the article, Scottish dermatologist J. O’D. Alexander, MD, called scabies “the scourge of mankind” and blamed it’s prevalence on “an offhand attitude to the disease which makes control very difficult.”

“I could sense this man’s frustration that people were not recognizing scabies,” Dr. Kovarik said, and it’s no closer to being eradicated than it was in 1970. “It’s still around, and we see it in our clinics. It’s a horrible disease in kids we see in dermatology not infrequently,” and treatment has only advanced a bit.

The article highlights what hasn’t changed much in ID dermatology over the years. Common warts are another one. “With all the evolution in medicine, we don’t have any better treatments approved for common warts than we ever had.” Injecting cidofovir “works great,” but access is a problem, Dr. Tyring said.

Onychomycosis has also proven a tough nut to crack. Readers back in 1970 counted the introduction of the antifungal, griseofulvin, as a major advancement in the 1960s; it’s still a go-to for tinea capitis, but it didn’t work very well for toenail fungus. Terbinafine (Lamisil), approved in 1993, and subsequent developments have helped, but the field still awaits more effective options; a few potential new agents are in the pipeline.

Although there have been major advancements for serious systemic fungal infections, “we’ve mainly seen small steps forward” in ID dermatology, Dr. Tyring said.

Dr. Tyring, Dr. Kovarik, and Dr. Rosen said they had no relevant disclosures.

[email protected]

Over the last few weeks, several conflicting reports about the efficacy of SARS-CoV-2 treatments have emerged, including high-profile papers that were placed in the limelight and groundbreaking retractions that were issued by the Lancet and New England Journal of Medicine, involving the potential dangers of COVID therapy with findings derived from the Surgisphere database. Hydroxychloroquine has garnered considerable media attention and was touted earlier by President Trump for its therapeutic effects.¹ Naturally, there are political connotations associated with the agent, and it is unlikely that hydroxychloroquine will be supplanted in the near future as ongoing clinical trials have demonstrated mixed results amid the controversy.

As clinicians navigating unchartered territory within the hospital setting, we have to come to terms with these new challenges, tailoring treatment protocols accordingly with the best clinical practices in mind. Patients with preexisting mental health conditions and who are being treated for COVID-19 are particularly susceptible to clinical deterioration. Recent studies have indicated that psychiatric patients are more prone to feelings of isolation and/or estrangement as well as exacerbation of symptoms such as paranoia.² Even more concerning is the medication regimen, namely, the novel combination therapies that arise when agents such as hydroxychloroquine are used in tandem with certain antipsychotics or antidepressants. As clinicians, we must reassess the psychotropic medication regimen for people who are currently being treated for or recovering from COVID-19.
 

What’s at stake for COVID-19–positive mental health care patients?

Although the efficacy of hydroxychloroquine is currently being investigated,³ the antimalarial is usually prescribed in tandem with azithromycin for people with COVID-19. The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases has advised against that particular combination therapy because of ongoing concerns about toxicities.^3,4

In another study, azithromycin was effectively substituted with doxycycline to help minimize systemic effects for patients with cardiac and/or pulmonary issues^.5 Azithromycin is notorious in the literature for influencing the electrical activity of the heart with the potential for fatal arrhythmia and sudden cardiac death in individuals at risk for cardiovascular disease.^5,6,7 It should be noted that both of these commonly prescribed COVID-19 medications (for example, hydroxychloroquine and azithromycin) could lead to QT interval prolongation especially within the context of combination therapy. This is largely concerning for psychiatrists and various other mental health practitioners for the following reasons: (1) higher rates of metabolic syndrome and cardiovascular diseases among psychiatric patients⁸ and/or (2) effects of certain antipsychotics (for example, IV haloperidol, thioridazine, and ziprasidone) and antidepressants (for example, citalopram and escitalopram) on the QT interval.⁹

SARS-CoV-2 and clinical judgment: Evaluating patients at higher risk

Although COVID-19 medication guidelines are still being actively developed, hydroxychloroquine appears to be commonly prescribed by physicians. The medication is known myriad untoward effects, including potential behavioral dysfunction (for example, irritability, agitation, suicidal ideation)10 as well as the aforementioned issues concerning arrhythmia (for example, torsades de pointes). Health care professionals might not have much control over the choice of COVID-19 agents because of a lack of available resources or limited options, but they can exercise clinical judgment with respect to selecting the appropriate psychotropic medications.

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

A baseline 12-lead EKG is the standard of care for patients currently being screened for COVID-19. It is necessary to rule out the presence of an underlying cardiovascular disease or a rhythm irregularity. A prolonged QTc interval is generally regarded as being around greater than 450-470 msecs with variations attributable to gender;¹¹ numerous studies have affirmed that the risk of acquiring torsades de pointes is substantial when the QTc interval exceeds 500 msecs.¹²

2. Medical management and risk assessment

Commonly prescribed antipsychotics such as IV haloperidol and ziprasidone are known for exerting a negative effect on the interval and should readily be substituted with other agents in patients who are being treated for COVID-19; the combination of these antipsychotics alongside some COVID-19 medication regimens (for example, hydroxychloroquine/azithromycin) might prove to be fatal. The same logic applies to COVID-19 patients previously on antidepressant therapeutics such as citalopram and escitalopram.

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

While American Psychiatric Association guidelines historically supported a cessation or reduction in the offending agent under normal circumstances,¹² our team is recommending that the psychotropics associated with QTc interval prolongation are discontinued altogether (or substituted with a low-risk agent) in the event that a patient presents with suspected COVID-19. However, after the patients tests negative with COVID-19, they may resume therapy as indicated under the discretion of the mental health practitioner.
 

References

1. Offard C. “Lancet, NEJM Retract Surgisphere Studies on COVID-19 Patients.” The Scientist Magazine. 2020 Jun 4.

2. Shigemura J et al. Psychiatry Clin Neurosci. 2020 Apr;74(4):281-2.

3. Keshtkar-Jahromi M and Bavari S. Am J Trop Med Hyg. 2020 May;102(5):932-3.

4. Palca J. “NIH panel recommends against drug combination promoted by Trump for COVID-19.” NPR. 2020 Apr 21.

5. Mongelli L. “Long Island doctor tries new twist on hydroxychloroquine for elderly COVID-19 patients.” New York Post. 2020 Apr 4.

6. Hancox JC et al. Ther Adv Infect Dis. 2013 Oct;(5):155-65.

7. Giudicessi JR and Ackerman MJ. Cleve Clin J Med. 2013 Sep;80(9):539-44.

8. Casey DE. Am J Med. 2005 Apr 1;118(Suppl 2):15S-22S.

9. Beach SR et al. Psychosomatics. 2013 Jan 1;54(1):1-3.

10. Bogaczewicz A and Sobów T. Psychiatria i Psychologia Kliniczna. 2017;17(2):111-4.

11. Chohan PS et al. Pak J Med Sci. 2015 Sep-Oct;31(5):1269-71.

12. Lieberman JA et al. APA guidance on the use of antipsychotic drugs and cardiac sudden death. NYS Office of Mental Health. 2012.
 

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Faisal Islam disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Mohammed Islam is affiliated with the department of psychiatry at the Interfaith Medical Center, New York. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Over the last few weeks, several conflicting reports about the efficacy of SARS-CoV-2 treatments have emerged, including high-profile papers that were placed in the limelight and groundbreaking retractions that were issued by the Lancet and New England Journal of Medicine, involving the potential dangers of COVID therapy with findings derived from the Surgisphere database. Hydroxychloroquine has garnered considerable media attention and was touted earlier by President Trump for its therapeutic effects.¹ Naturally, there are political connotations associated with the agent, and it is unlikely that hydroxychloroquine will be supplanted in the near future as ongoing clinical trials have demonstrated mixed results amid the controversy.

As clinicians navigating unchartered territory within the hospital setting, we have to come to terms with these new challenges, tailoring treatment protocols accordingly with the best clinical practices in mind. Patients with preexisting mental health conditions and who are being treated for COVID-19 are particularly susceptible to clinical deterioration. Recent studies have indicated that psychiatric patients are more prone to feelings of isolation and/or estrangement as well as exacerbation of symptoms such as paranoia.² Even more concerning is the medication regimen, namely, the novel combination therapies that arise when agents such as hydroxychloroquine are used in tandem with certain antipsychotics or antidepressants. As clinicians, we must reassess the psychotropic medication regimen for people who are currently being treated for or recovering from COVID-19.
 

What’s at stake for COVID-19–positive mental health care patients?

Although the efficacy of hydroxychloroquine is currently being investigated,³ the antimalarial is usually prescribed in tandem with azithromycin for people with COVID-19. The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases has advised against that particular combination therapy because of ongoing concerns about toxicities.^3,4

In another study, azithromycin was effectively substituted with doxycycline to help minimize systemic effects for patients with cardiac and/or pulmonary issues^.5 Azithromycin is notorious in the literature for influencing the electrical activity of the heart with the potential for fatal arrhythmia and sudden cardiac death in individuals at risk for cardiovascular disease.^5,6,7 It should be noted that both of these commonly prescribed COVID-19 medications (for example, hydroxychloroquine and azithromycin) could lead to QT interval prolongation especially within the context of combination therapy. This is largely concerning for psychiatrists and various other mental health practitioners for the following reasons: (1) higher rates of metabolic syndrome and cardiovascular diseases among psychiatric patients⁸ and/or (2) effects of certain antipsychotics (for example, IV haloperidol, thioridazine, and ziprasidone) and antidepressants (for example, citalopram and escitalopram) on the QT interval.⁹

SARS-CoV-2 and clinical judgment: Evaluating patients at higher risk

Although COVID-19 medication guidelines are still being actively developed, hydroxychloroquine appears to be commonly prescribed by physicians. The medication is known myriad untoward effects, including potential behavioral dysfunction (for example, irritability, agitation, suicidal ideation)10 as well as the aforementioned issues concerning arrhythmia (for example, torsades de pointes). Health care professionals might not have much control over the choice of COVID-19 agents because of a lack of available resources or limited options, but they can exercise clinical judgment with respect to selecting the appropriate psychotropic medications.

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

A baseline 12-lead EKG is the standard of care for patients currently being screened for COVID-19. It is necessary to rule out the presence of an underlying cardiovascular disease or a rhythm irregularity. A prolonged QTc interval is generally regarded as being around greater than 450-470 msecs with variations attributable to gender;¹¹ numerous studies have affirmed that the risk of acquiring torsades de pointes is substantial when the QTc interval exceeds 500 msecs.¹²

2. Medical management and risk assessment

Commonly prescribed antipsychotics such as IV haloperidol and ziprasidone are known for exerting a negative effect on the interval and should readily be substituted with other agents in patients who are being treated for COVID-19; the combination of these antipsychotics alongside some COVID-19 medication regimens (for example, hydroxychloroquine/azithromycin) might prove to be fatal. The same logic applies to COVID-19 patients previously on antidepressant therapeutics such as citalopram and escitalopram.

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

While American Psychiatric Association guidelines historically supported a cessation or reduction in the offending agent under normal circumstances,¹² our team is recommending that the psychotropics associated with QTc interval prolongation are discontinued altogether (or substituted with a low-risk agent) in the event that a patient presents with suspected COVID-19. However, after the patients tests negative with COVID-19, they may resume therapy as indicated under the discretion of the mental health practitioner.
 

References

1. Offard C. “Lancet, NEJM Retract Surgisphere Studies on COVID-19 Patients.” The Scientist Magazine. 2020 Jun 4.

2. Shigemura J et al. Psychiatry Clin Neurosci. 2020 Apr;74(4):281-2.

3. Keshtkar-Jahromi M and Bavari S. Am J Trop Med Hyg. 2020 May;102(5):932-3.

4. Palca J. “NIH panel recommends against drug combination promoted by Trump for COVID-19.” NPR. 2020 Apr 21.

5. Mongelli L. “Long Island doctor tries new twist on hydroxychloroquine for elderly COVID-19 patients.” New York Post. 2020 Apr 4.

6. Hancox JC et al. Ther Adv Infect Dis. 2013 Oct;(5):155-65.

7. Giudicessi JR and Ackerman MJ. Cleve Clin J Med. 2013 Sep;80(9):539-44.

8. Casey DE. Am J Med. 2005 Apr 1;118(Suppl 2):15S-22S.

9. Beach SR et al. Psychosomatics. 2013 Jan 1;54(1):1-3.

10. Bogaczewicz A and Sobów T. Psychiatria i Psychologia Kliniczna. 2017;17(2):111-4.

11. Chohan PS et al. Pak J Med Sci. 2015 Sep-Oct;31(5):1269-71.

12. Lieberman JA et al. APA guidance on the use of antipsychotic drugs and cardiac sudden death. NYS Office of Mental Health. 2012.
 

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Faisal Islam disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Mohammed Islam is affiliated with the department of psychiatry at the Interfaith Medical Center, New York. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Over the last few weeks, several conflicting reports about the efficacy of SARS-CoV-2 treatments have emerged, including high-profile papers that were placed in the limelight and groundbreaking retractions that were issued by the Lancet and New England Journal of Medicine, involving the potential dangers of COVID therapy with findings derived from the Surgisphere database. Hydroxychloroquine has garnered considerable media attention and was touted earlier by President Trump for its therapeutic effects.¹ Naturally, there are political connotations associated with the agent, and it is unlikely that hydroxychloroquine will be supplanted in the near future as ongoing clinical trials have demonstrated mixed results amid the controversy.

As clinicians navigating unchartered territory within the hospital setting, we have to come to terms with these new challenges, tailoring treatment protocols accordingly with the best clinical practices in mind. Patients with preexisting mental health conditions and who are being treated for COVID-19 are particularly susceptible to clinical deterioration. Recent studies have indicated that psychiatric patients are more prone to feelings of isolation and/or estrangement as well as exacerbation of symptoms such as paranoia.² Even more concerning is the medication regimen, namely, the novel combination therapies that arise when agents such as hydroxychloroquine are used in tandem with certain antipsychotics or antidepressants. As clinicians, we must reassess the psychotropic medication regimen for people who are currently being treated for or recovering from COVID-19.
 

What’s at stake for COVID-19–positive mental health care patients?

Although the efficacy of hydroxychloroquine is currently being investigated,³ the antimalarial is usually prescribed in tandem with azithromycin for people with COVID-19. The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases has advised against that particular combination therapy because of ongoing concerns about toxicities.^3,4

In another study, azithromycin was effectively substituted with doxycycline to help minimize systemic effects for patients with cardiac and/or pulmonary issues^.5 Azithromycin is notorious in the literature for influencing the electrical activity of the heart with the potential for fatal arrhythmia and sudden cardiac death in individuals at risk for cardiovascular disease.^5,6,7 It should be noted that both of these commonly prescribed COVID-19 medications (for example, hydroxychloroquine and azithromycin) could lead to QT interval prolongation especially within the context of combination therapy. This is largely concerning for psychiatrists and various other mental health practitioners for the following reasons: (1) higher rates of metabolic syndrome and cardiovascular diseases among psychiatric patients⁸ and/or (2) effects of certain antipsychotics (for example, IV haloperidol, thioridazine, and ziprasidone) and antidepressants (for example, citalopram and escitalopram) on the QT interval.⁹

SARS-CoV-2 and clinical judgment: Evaluating patients at higher risk

Although COVID-19 medication guidelines are still being actively developed, hydroxychloroquine appears to be commonly prescribed by physicians. The medication is known myriad untoward effects, including potential behavioral dysfunction (for example, irritability, agitation, suicidal ideation)10 as well as the aforementioned issues concerning arrhythmia (for example, torsades de pointes). Health care professionals might not have much control over the choice of COVID-19 agents because of a lack of available resources or limited options, but they can exercise clinical judgment with respect to selecting the appropriate psychotropic medications.

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

A baseline 12-lead EKG is the standard of care for patients currently being screened for COVID-19. It is necessary to rule out the presence of an underlying cardiovascular disease or a rhythm irregularity. A prolonged QTc interval is generally regarded as being around greater than 450-470 msecs with variations attributable to gender;¹¹ numerous studies have affirmed that the risk of acquiring torsades de pointes is substantial when the QTc interval exceeds 500 msecs.¹²

2. Medical management and risk assessment

Commonly prescribed antipsychotics such as IV haloperidol and ziprasidone are known for exerting a negative effect on the interval and should readily be substituted with other agents in patients who are being treated for COVID-19; the combination of these antipsychotics alongside some COVID-19 medication regimens (for example, hydroxychloroquine/azithromycin) might prove to be fatal. The same logic applies to COVID-19 patients previously on antidepressant therapeutics such as citalopram and escitalopram.

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

While American Psychiatric Association guidelines historically supported a cessation or reduction in the offending agent under normal circumstances,¹² our team is recommending that the psychotropics associated with QTc interval prolongation are discontinued altogether (or substituted with a low-risk agent) in the event that a patient presents with suspected COVID-19. However, after the patients tests negative with COVID-19, they may resume therapy as indicated under the discretion of the mental health practitioner.
 

References

1. Offard C. “Lancet, NEJM Retract Surgisphere Studies on COVID-19 Patients.” The Scientist Magazine. 2020 Jun 4.

2. Shigemura J et al. Psychiatry Clin Neurosci. 2020 Apr;74(4):281-2.

3. Keshtkar-Jahromi M and Bavari S. Am J Trop Med Hyg. 2020 May;102(5):932-3.

4. Palca J. “NIH panel recommends against drug combination promoted by Trump for COVID-19.” NPR. 2020 Apr 21.

5. Mongelli L. “Long Island doctor tries new twist on hydroxychloroquine for elderly COVID-19 patients.” New York Post. 2020 Apr 4.

6. Hancox JC et al. Ther Adv Infect Dis. 2013 Oct;(5):155-65.

7. Giudicessi JR and Ackerman MJ. Cleve Clin J Med. 2013 Sep;80(9):539-44.

8. Casey DE. Am J Med. 2005 Apr 1;118(Suppl 2):15S-22S.

9. Beach SR et al. Psychosomatics. 2013 Jan 1;54(1):1-3.

10. Bogaczewicz A and Sobów T. Psychiatria i Psychologia Kliniczna. 2017;17(2):111-4.

11. Chohan PS et al. Pak J Med Sci. 2015 Sep-Oct;31(5):1269-71.

12. Lieberman JA et al. APA guidance on the use of antipsychotic drugs and cardiac sudden death. NYS Office of Mental Health. 2012.
 

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Faisal Islam disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Mohammed Islam is affiliated with the department of psychiatry at the Interfaith Medical Center, New York. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

When sterilizing face masks, the type of face mask and the method of sterilization have a bearing on subsequent filtration efficiency, according to researchers. The greatest reduction in filtration efficiency after sterilization occurred with surgical face masks.

With plasma vapor hydrogen peroxide (H₂O₂) sterilization, filtration efficiency of N95 and KN95 masks was maintained at more than 95%, but for surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 95%. With chlorine dioxide (ClO₂) sterilization, on the other hand, filtration efficiency was maintained at above 95% for N95 masks, but for KN95 and surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 80%.

In a research letter published online June 15 in JAMA Network Open, researchers from the University of Oklahoma Health Sciences Center, Oklahoma City, report the results of a study of the two sterilization techniques on the pressure drop and filtration efficiency of N95, KN95, and surgical face masks.

“The H₂O₂ treatment showed a small effect on the overall filtration efficiency of the tested masks, but the ClO₂ treatment showed marked reduction in the overall filtration efficiency of the KN95s and surgical face masks. All pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range,” the researchers write.

The study did not evaluate the effect of repeated sterilizations on face masks.

Five masks of each type were sterilized with either H₂O₂ or ClO₂. Masks were then placed in a test chamber, and a salt aerosol was nebulized to assess both upstream and downstream filtration as well as pressure drop. The researchers used a mobility particle sizer to measure particle number concentration from 16.8 nm to 514 nm. An acceptable pressure drop was defined as a drop of less than 1.38 inches of water (35 mm) for inhalation.

Although pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range for all three mask types following sterilization with either method, H₂O₂ sterilization yielded the least reduction in filtration efficacy in all cases. After sterilization with H₂O₂, filtration efficiencies were 96.6%, 97.1%, and 91.6% for the N95s, KN95s, and the surgical face masks, respectively. In contrast, filtration efficiencies after ClO₂ sterilization were 95.1%, 76.2%, and 77.9%, respectively.

The researchers note that, although overall filtration efficiency was maintained with ClO₂ sterilization, there was a significant drop in efficiency with respect to particles of approximately 300 nm (0.3 microns) in size. For particles of that size, mean filtration efficiency decreased to 86.2% for N95s, 40.8% for KN95s, and 47.1% for surgical face masks.

The testing described in the report is “quite affordable at $350 per mask type, so it is hard to imagine any health care provider cannot set aside a small budget to conduct such an important test,” author Evan Floyd, PhD, told Medscape Medical News.

Given the high demand for effective face masks and the current risk for counterfeit products, Floyd suggested that individual facilities test all masks intended for use by healthcare workers before and after sterilization procedures.

“However, if for some reason testing is not an option, we would recommend sticking to established brands and suppliers, perhaps reach out to your state health department or a local representative of the strategic stockpile of PPE,” he noted.

The authors acknowledge that further studies using a larger sample size and a greater variety of masks, as well as studies to evaluate different sterilization techniques, are required. Further, “measuring the respirator’s filtration efficiency by aerosol size instead of only measuring the overall filtration efficiency” should also be considered. Such an approach would enable researchers to evaluate the degree to which masks protect against specific infectious agents.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

When sterilizing face masks, the type of face mask and the method of sterilization have a bearing on subsequent filtration efficiency, according to researchers. The greatest reduction in filtration efficiency after sterilization occurred with surgical face masks.

With plasma vapor hydrogen peroxide (H₂O₂) sterilization, filtration efficiency of N95 and KN95 masks was maintained at more than 95%, but for surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 95%. With chlorine dioxide (ClO₂) sterilization, on the other hand, filtration efficiency was maintained at above 95% for N95 masks, but for KN95 and surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 80%.

In a research letter published online June 15 in JAMA Network Open, researchers from the University of Oklahoma Health Sciences Center, Oklahoma City, report the results of a study of the two sterilization techniques on the pressure drop and filtration efficiency of N95, KN95, and surgical face masks.

“The H₂O₂ treatment showed a small effect on the overall filtration efficiency of the tested masks, but the ClO₂ treatment showed marked reduction in the overall filtration efficiency of the KN95s and surgical face masks. All pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range,” the researchers write.

The study did not evaluate the effect of repeated sterilizations on face masks.

Five masks of each type were sterilized with either H₂O₂ or ClO₂. Masks were then placed in a test chamber, and a salt aerosol was nebulized to assess both upstream and downstream filtration as well as pressure drop. The researchers used a mobility particle sizer to measure particle number concentration from 16.8 nm to 514 nm. An acceptable pressure drop was defined as a drop of less than 1.38 inches of water (35 mm) for inhalation.

Although pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range for all three mask types following sterilization with either method, H₂O₂ sterilization yielded the least reduction in filtration efficacy in all cases. After sterilization with H₂O₂, filtration efficiencies were 96.6%, 97.1%, and 91.6% for the N95s, KN95s, and the surgical face masks, respectively. In contrast, filtration efficiencies after ClO₂ sterilization were 95.1%, 76.2%, and 77.9%, respectively.

The researchers note that, although overall filtration efficiency was maintained with ClO₂ sterilization, there was a significant drop in efficiency with respect to particles of approximately 300 nm (0.3 microns) in size. For particles of that size, mean filtration efficiency decreased to 86.2% for N95s, 40.8% for KN95s, and 47.1% for surgical face masks.

The testing described in the report is “quite affordable at $350 per mask type, so it is hard to imagine any health care provider cannot set aside a small budget to conduct such an important test,” author Evan Floyd, PhD, told Medscape Medical News.

Given the high demand for effective face masks and the current risk for counterfeit products, Floyd suggested that individual facilities test all masks intended for use by healthcare workers before and after sterilization procedures.

“However, if for some reason testing is not an option, we would recommend sticking to established brands and suppliers, perhaps reach out to your state health department or a local representative of the strategic stockpile of PPE,” he noted.

The authors acknowledge that further studies using a larger sample size and a greater variety of masks, as well as studies to evaluate different sterilization techniques, are required. Further, “measuring the respirator’s filtration efficiency by aerosol size instead of only measuring the overall filtration efficiency” should also be considered. Such an approach would enable researchers to evaluate the degree to which masks protect against specific infectious agents.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

When sterilizing face masks, the type of face mask and the method of sterilization have a bearing on subsequent filtration efficiency, according to researchers. The greatest reduction in filtration efficiency after sterilization occurred with surgical face masks.

With plasma vapor hydrogen peroxide (H₂O₂) sterilization, filtration efficiency of N95 and KN95 masks was maintained at more than 95%, but for surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 95%. With chlorine dioxide (ClO₂) sterilization, on the other hand, filtration efficiency was maintained at above 95% for N95 masks, but for KN95 and surgical face masks, filtration efficiency was reduced to less than 80%.

In a research letter published online June 15 in JAMA Network Open, researchers from the University of Oklahoma Health Sciences Center, Oklahoma City, report the results of a study of the two sterilization techniques on the pressure drop and filtration efficiency of N95, KN95, and surgical face masks.

“The H₂O₂ treatment showed a small effect on the overall filtration efficiency of the tested masks, but the ClO₂ treatment showed marked reduction in the overall filtration efficiency of the KN95s and surgical face masks. All pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range,” the researchers write.

The study did not evaluate the effect of repeated sterilizations on face masks.

Five masks of each type were sterilized with either H₂O₂ or ClO₂. Masks were then placed in a test chamber, and a salt aerosol was nebulized to assess both upstream and downstream filtration as well as pressure drop. The researchers used a mobility particle sizer to measure particle number concentration from 16.8 nm to 514 nm. An acceptable pressure drop was defined as a drop of less than 1.38 inches of water (35 mm) for inhalation.

Although pressure drop changes were within the acceptable range for all three mask types following sterilization with either method, H₂O₂ sterilization yielded the least reduction in filtration efficacy in all cases. After sterilization with H₂O₂, filtration efficiencies were 96.6%, 97.1%, and 91.6% for the N95s, KN95s, and the surgical face masks, respectively. In contrast, filtration efficiencies after ClO₂ sterilization were 95.1%, 76.2%, and 77.9%, respectively.

The researchers note that, although overall filtration efficiency was maintained with ClO₂ sterilization, there was a significant drop in efficiency with respect to particles of approximately 300 nm (0.3 microns) in size. For particles of that size, mean filtration efficiency decreased to 86.2% for N95s, 40.8% for KN95s, and 47.1% for surgical face masks.

The testing described in the report is “quite affordable at $350 per mask type, so it is hard to imagine any health care provider cannot set aside a small budget to conduct such an important test,” author Evan Floyd, PhD, told Medscape Medical News.

Given the high demand for effective face masks and the current risk for counterfeit products, Floyd suggested that individual facilities test all masks intended for use by healthcare workers before and after sterilization procedures.

“However, if for some reason testing is not an option, we would recommend sticking to established brands and suppliers, perhaps reach out to your state health department or a local representative of the strategic stockpile of PPE,” he noted.

The authors acknowledge that further studies using a larger sample size and a greater variety of masks, as well as studies to evaluate different sterilization techniques, are required. Further, “measuring the respirator’s filtration efficiency by aerosol size instead of only measuring the overall filtration efficiency” should also be considered. Such an approach would enable researchers to evaluate the degree to which masks protect against specific infectious agents.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.