What has been the scholarly output of academic hospital medicine faculty (AHMF) and what academic rank have they achieved at US academic medical centers (AMCs)? Sumarsono et al¹ address these questions and add to the growing body of literature exposing the limited academic footprint of hospitalists.

The authors performed a cross-sectional analysis of AHMF affiliated with the top 25 internal medicine training programs (as determined by the physician networking service doximity.com) and used Scopus to determine number of publications, citations, and H-index (a metric of productivity) for each faculty member. They also evaluated predictors for promotion. In contrast, most prior research on this topic relies on data obtained by survey methodology.^2-5

Among 1554 AHMF from 22 AMCs, 42 (2.7%) were full professors and 140 (9.0%) were associate professors. The number of publications per AHMF was noticeably low, with a mean of 6.3 and median of 0 (interquartile range, 0-4). The authors found that H-index, completion of chief residency, and graduation from a top 25 medical school were independently associated with promotion.

The authors only evaluated AHMF among the most academically rigorous AMCs, an approach that likely overestimates scholarly output of hospitalists across all US AMCs. Conversely, if we presume that promotion is more difficult at these major AMCs, the results may underestimate academic rank of AHMF nationally. Additionally, the authors did not distinguish faculty by tracks (eg, clinician-investigators, clinician-educators), which often have different criteria for academic promotion.

These findings are worrisomely consistent with prior reports, despite the tremendous expansion of the field.^2-4 A 2008 survey of academic hospitalists found that 4% of respondents were full professors and 9% were associate professors, values nearly identical to the results in this current analysis,⁴ suggesting enduring barriers to academic advancement.

We are left with the following questions provoked by this body of literature: How can hospitalists increase their scholarly output and climb the promotional ladder? And how can we increase the academic footprint of hospital medicine? We recently proposed the following strategies based on a survey of academic groups participating in the Hospital Medicine Reengineering Network (HOMERuN) survey⁵: (1) expand hospital medicine research fellowships, which will provide graduates with research skills to justify dedicated time for research and aid their ability to obtain independent funding; (2) formalize mentorship between research faculty in hospital medicine and other internal medicine disciplines with robust track records for research; (3) invest in research infrastructure and data access within and between institutions; and (4) encourage hospital medicine group leaders to foster academic growth by incentivizing faculty to perform research, present their work at national conferences, and publish manuscripts with their findings.

Although an increase in scholarly output should contribute to higher academic rank, hospitalists routinely make other invaluable contributions beyond clinical care to AMCs, including medical education, hospital leadership, quality improvement, clinical innovation, and social justice advocacy. Also, hospitalists are increasingly disseminating their contributions via newer mediums (eg, social media, podcasts) that arguably have greater reach than traditional scholarship outlets. We believe that promotion committees should update their criteria to reflect the evolution of academic contribution and integrate these within traditional promotion pathways.

Finally, we must address federal funding mechanisms, which currently favor specialty-specific funding over funding that would be more applicable to hospital medicine researchers. Funding agencies are largely specialty- or disease-specific, with limited options for broader-based research.⁶ Additionally, grant-review committees are largely comprised of specialists, with few generalists and fewer hospitalists. These limitations make it difficult to “argue” the necessity of hospital medicine research. One concrete step would be for the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to create an Office for Hospital Medicine Research, analogous to the Office of Emergency Care Research, which works across NIH institutes and centers to foster research and research training for the emergency setting.

With these strategies, we are hopeful that hospital medicine will continue to expand its academic footprint and be recognized for its ever-growing contributions to the practice of medicine.

What has been the scholarly output of academic hospital medicine faculty (AHMF) and what academic rank have they achieved at US academic medical centers (AMCs)? Sumarsono et al¹ address these questions and add to the growing body of literature exposing the limited academic footprint of hospitalists.

The authors performed a cross-sectional analysis of AHMF affiliated with the top 25 internal medicine training programs (as determined by the physician networking service doximity.com) and used Scopus to determine number of publications, citations, and H-index (a metric of productivity) for each faculty member. They also evaluated predictors for promotion. In contrast, most prior research on this topic relies on data obtained by survey methodology.^2-5

Among 1554 AHMF from 22 AMCs, 42 (2.7%) were full professors and 140 (9.0%) were associate professors. The number of publications per AHMF was noticeably low, with a mean of 6.3 and median of 0 (interquartile range, 0-4). The authors found that H-index, completion of chief residency, and graduation from a top 25 medical school were independently associated with promotion.

The authors only evaluated AHMF among the most academically rigorous AMCs, an approach that likely overestimates scholarly output of hospitalists across all US AMCs. Conversely, if we presume that promotion is more difficult at these major AMCs, the results may underestimate academic rank of AHMF nationally. Additionally, the authors did not distinguish faculty by tracks (eg, clinician-investigators, clinician-educators), which often have different criteria for academic promotion.

These findings are worrisomely consistent with prior reports, despite the tremendous expansion of the field.^2-4 A 2008 survey of academic hospitalists found that 4% of respondents were full professors and 9% were associate professors, values nearly identical to the results in this current analysis,⁴ suggesting enduring barriers to academic advancement.

We are left with the following questions provoked by this body of literature: How can hospitalists increase their scholarly output and climb the promotional ladder? And how can we increase the academic footprint of hospital medicine? We recently proposed the following strategies based on a survey of academic groups participating in the Hospital Medicine Reengineering Network (HOMERuN) survey⁵: (1) expand hospital medicine research fellowships, which will provide graduates with research skills to justify dedicated time for research and aid their ability to obtain independent funding; (2) formalize mentorship between research faculty in hospital medicine and other internal medicine disciplines with robust track records for research; (3) invest in research infrastructure and data access within and between institutions; and (4) encourage hospital medicine group leaders to foster academic growth by incentivizing faculty to perform research, present their work at national conferences, and publish manuscripts with their findings.

Although an increase in scholarly output should contribute to higher academic rank, hospitalists routinely make other invaluable contributions beyond clinical care to AMCs, including medical education, hospital leadership, quality improvement, clinical innovation, and social justice advocacy. Also, hospitalists are increasingly disseminating their contributions via newer mediums (eg, social media, podcasts) that arguably have greater reach than traditional scholarship outlets. We believe that promotion committees should update their criteria to reflect the evolution of academic contribution and integrate these within traditional promotion pathways.

Finally, we must address federal funding mechanisms, which currently favor specialty-specific funding over funding that would be more applicable to hospital medicine researchers. Funding agencies are largely specialty- or disease-specific, with limited options for broader-based research.⁶ Additionally, grant-review committees are largely comprised of specialists, with few generalists and fewer hospitalists. These limitations make it difficult to “argue” the necessity of hospital medicine research. One concrete step would be for the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to create an Office for Hospital Medicine Research, analogous to the Office of Emergency Care Research, which works across NIH institutes and centers to foster research and research training for the emergency setting.

With these strategies, we are hopeful that hospital medicine will continue to expand its academic footprint and be recognized for its ever-growing contributions to the practice of medicine.

What has been the scholarly output of academic hospital medicine faculty (AHMF) and what academic rank have they achieved at US academic medical centers (AMCs)? Sumarsono et al¹ address these questions and add to the growing body of literature exposing the limited academic footprint of hospitalists.

The authors performed a cross-sectional analysis of AHMF affiliated with the top 25 internal medicine training programs (as determined by the physician networking service doximity.com) and used Scopus to determine number of publications, citations, and H-index (a metric of productivity) for each faculty member. They also evaluated predictors for promotion. In contrast, most prior research on this topic relies on data obtained by survey methodology.^2-5

Among 1554 AHMF from 22 AMCs, 42 (2.7%) were full professors and 140 (9.0%) were associate professors. The number of publications per AHMF was noticeably low, with a mean of 6.3 and median of 0 (interquartile range, 0-4). The authors found that H-index, completion of chief residency, and graduation from a top 25 medical school were independently associated with promotion.

The authors only evaluated AHMF among the most academically rigorous AMCs, an approach that likely overestimates scholarly output of hospitalists across all US AMCs. Conversely, if we presume that promotion is more difficult at these major AMCs, the results may underestimate academic rank of AHMF nationally. Additionally, the authors did not distinguish faculty by tracks (eg, clinician-investigators, clinician-educators), which often have different criteria for academic promotion.

These findings are worrisomely consistent with prior reports, despite the tremendous expansion of the field.^2-4 A 2008 survey of academic hospitalists found that 4% of respondents were full professors and 9% were associate professors, values nearly identical to the results in this current analysis,⁴ suggesting enduring barriers to academic advancement.

We are left with the following questions provoked by this body of literature: How can hospitalists increase their scholarly output and climb the promotional ladder? And how can we increase the academic footprint of hospital medicine? We recently proposed the following strategies based on a survey of academic groups participating in the Hospital Medicine Reengineering Network (HOMERuN) survey⁵: (1) expand hospital medicine research fellowships, which will provide graduates with research skills to justify dedicated time for research and aid their ability to obtain independent funding; (2) formalize mentorship between research faculty in hospital medicine and other internal medicine disciplines with robust track records for research; (3) invest in research infrastructure and data access within and between institutions; and (4) encourage hospital medicine group leaders to foster academic growth by incentivizing faculty to perform research, present their work at national conferences, and publish manuscripts with their findings.

Although an increase in scholarly output should contribute to higher academic rank, hospitalists routinely make other invaluable contributions beyond clinical care to AMCs, including medical education, hospital leadership, quality improvement, clinical innovation, and social justice advocacy. Also, hospitalists are increasingly disseminating their contributions via newer mediums (eg, social media, podcasts) that arguably have greater reach than traditional scholarship outlets. We believe that promotion committees should update their criteria to reflect the evolution of academic contribution and integrate these within traditional promotion pathways.

Finally, we must address federal funding mechanisms, which currently favor specialty-specific funding over funding that would be more applicable to hospital medicine researchers. Funding agencies are largely specialty- or disease-specific, with limited options for broader-based research.⁶ Additionally, grant-review committees are largely comprised of specialists, with few generalists and fewer hospitalists. These limitations make it difficult to “argue” the necessity of hospital medicine research. One concrete step would be for the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to create an Office for Hospital Medicine Research, analogous to the Office of Emergency Care Research, which works across NIH institutes and centers to foster research and research training for the emergency setting.

With these strategies, we are hopeful that hospital medicine will continue to expand its academic footprint and be recognized for its ever-growing contributions to the practice of medicine.

As our understanding of SARS-CoV-2 has progressed, researchers, clinicians, and patients have learned that recovery from COVID-19 can last well beyond the acute phase of the illness. As we see fewer fatal cases and more survivors, studies that characterize the postacute sequelae of COVID-19 (PASC) are increasingly important for understanding how to help patients return to their normal lives, especially after hospitalization. Critical to investigating this is knowing patients’ burden of symptoms and disabilities prior to infection. In this issue, a study by Iwashyna et al¹ helps us understand patients’ lives after COVID compared to their lives before COVID.

The study analyzed patients with SARS-CoV-2 infection admitted during the third wave of the pandemic to assess for new cardiopulmonary symptoms, new disability, and financial toxicity of hospitalization 1 month after discharge.¹ Many patients had new cardiopulmonary symptoms and oxygen use, and a much larger number had new limitations in activities of daily living (ADLs) or instrumental activities of daily living (iADLs). The majority were discharged home without home care services, and new limitations in ADLs or iADLs were common in these cases. Most patients reported not having returned to their cardiopulmonary or functional baseline; however, new cough, shortness of breath, or oxygen use usually did not explain their new disabilities. Financial toxicity was also common, reflecting the effects of COVID-19 on both employment and family finances.

These results complement those of Chopra et al,² who examined 60-day outcomes for patients hospitalized during the first wave of the pandemic. At 2 months from discharge, many patients had ongoing cough, shortness of breath, oxygen use, and disability, but at lower rates. This likely reflects continuing recovery during the extra 30 days, but other potential explanations deserve consideration. One possibility is improving survival over the course of the pandemic. Many patients who may have passed away earlier in the pandemic now survive to return home, albeit with a heavy burden of symptomatology. This raises the possibility that symptoms among survivors may continue to increase as survival of COVID-19 improves. However, it should be noted that neither study is representative of the national patterns of hospitalization by race or ethnicity.³ Iwashyna et al¹ underrepresented Black patients, while Chopra et al² underrepresented Hispanic patients. Given what we know about outcomes for these populations and their underrepresentation in PASC literature, the impact of COVID-19 for them is likely underestimated. As data from 3, 6, or 12 months become available, we may also see the effect sizes described in this early literature become even larger.

Consistent with the findings of Chopra et al,² financial toxicity after COVID-19 hospitalization was high. The longer-term financial burden of COVID-19 will likely exceed what is described here, particularly for Black and Hispanic patients, who experienced a disproportionate drain on their savings. These populations are also more likely to be negatively impacted by the COVID economy⁴ and thus may suffer a “double hit” financially if hospitalized.

Iwashyna et al¹ underscore the urgent need for progress in understanding COVID “long-haulers”⁵ and helping patients with physical and financial recovery. Whether the spectacular innovations identified by the medical community in COVID-19 prevention and treatment of acute illness can be found for long COVID remains to be seen. The fact that so many patients studied by Iwashyna et al did not receive home care services and experienced financial toxicity shows the importance of broader implementation of systems and services to support survivors of COVID-19 hospitalization. Developers of this support must emphasize the importance of physical and cardiopulmonary rehabilitation as well as financial relief, particularly for minorities. For our patients and their families, this may be the best strategy to get “back to normal.”

The authors thank Dr Vineet Arora for reviewing and advising on this manuscript.

As our understanding of SARS-CoV-2 has progressed, researchers, clinicians, and patients have learned that recovery from COVID-19 can last well beyond the acute phase of the illness. As we see fewer fatal cases and more survivors, studies that characterize the postacute sequelae of COVID-19 (PASC) are increasingly important for understanding how to help patients return to their normal lives, especially after hospitalization. Critical to investigating this is knowing patients’ burden of symptoms and disabilities prior to infection. In this issue, a study by Iwashyna et al¹ helps us understand patients’ lives after COVID compared to their lives before COVID.

The study analyzed patients with SARS-CoV-2 infection admitted during the third wave of the pandemic to assess for new cardiopulmonary symptoms, new disability, and financial toxicity of hospitalization 1 month after discharge.¹ Many patients had new cardiopulmonary symptoms and oxygen use, and a much larger number had new limitations in activities of daily living (ADLs) or instrumental activities of daily living (iADLs). The majority were discharged home without home care services, and new limitations in ADLs or iADLs were common in these cases. Most patients reported not having returned to their cardiopulmonary or functional baseline; however, new cough, shortness of breath, or oxygen use usually did not explain their new disabilities. Financial toxicity was also common, reflecting the effects of COVID-19 on both employment and family finances.

These results complement those of Chopra et al,² who examined 60-day outcomes for patients hospitalized during the first wave of the pandemic. At 2 months from discharge, many patients had ongoing cough, shortness of breath, oxygen use, and disability, but at lower rates. This likely reflects continuing recovery during the extra 30 days, but other potential explanations deserve consideration. One possibility is improving survival over the course of the pandemic. Many patients who may have passed away earlier in the pandemic now survive to return home, albeit with a heavy burden of symptomatology. This raises the possibility that symptoms among survivors may continue to increase as survival of COVID-19 improves. However, it should be noted that neither study is representative of the national patterns of hospitalization by race or ethnicity.³ Iwashyna et al¹ underrepresented Black patients, while Chopra et al² underrepresented Hispanic patients. Given what we know about outcomes for these populations and their underrepresentation in PASC literature, the impact of COVID-19 for them is likely underestimated. As data from 3, 6, or 12 months become available, we may also see the effect sizes described in this early literature become even larger.

Consistent with the findings of Chopra et al,² financial toxicity after COVID-19 hospitalization was high. The longer-term financial burden of COVID-19 will likely exceed what is described here, particularly for Black and Hispanic patients, who experienced a disproportionate drain on their savings. These populations are also more likely to be negatively impacted by the COVID economy⁴ and thus may suffer a “double hit” financially if hospitalized.

Iwashyna et al¹ underscore the urgent need for progress in understanding COVID “long-haulers”⁵ and helping patients with physical and financial recovery. Whether the spectacular innovations identified by the medical community in COVID-19 prevention and treatment of acute illness can be found for long COVID remains to be seen. The fact that so many patients studied by Iwashyna et al did not receive home care services and experienced financial toxicity shows the importance of broader implementation of systems and services to support survivors of COVID-19 hospitalization. Developers of this support must emphasize the importance of physical and cardiopulmonary rehabilitation as well as financial relief, particularly for minorities. For our patients and their families, this may be the best strategy to get “back to normal.”

The authors thank Dr Vineet Arora for reviewing and advising on this manuscript.

As our understanding of SARS-CoV-2 has progressed, researchers, clinicians, and patients have learned that recovery from COVID-19 can last well beyond the acute phase of the illness. As we see fewer fatal cases and more survivors, studies that characterize the postacute sequelae of COVID-19 (PASC) are increasingly important for understanding how to help patients return to their normal lives, especially after hospitalization. Critical to investigating this is knowing patients’ burden of symptoms and disabilities prior to infection. In this issue, a study by Iwashyna et al¹ helps us understand patients’ lives after COVID compared to their lives before COVID.

The study analyzed patients with SARS-CoV-2 infection admitted during the third wave of the pandemic to assess for new cardiopulmonary symptoms, new disability, and financial toxicity of hospitalization 1 month after discharge.¹ Many patients had new cardiopulmonary symptoms and oxygen use, and a much larger number had new limitations in activities of daily living (ADLs) or instrumental activities of daily living (iADLs). The majority were discharged home without home care services, and new limitations in ADLs or iADLs were common in these cases. Most patients reported not having returned to their cardiopulmonary or functional baseline; however, new cough, shortness of breath, or oxygen use usually did not explain their new disabilities. Financial toxicity was also common, reflecting the effects of COVID-19 on both employment and family finances.

These results complement those of Chopra et al,² who examined 60-day outcomes for patients hospitalized during the first wave of the pandemic. At 2 months from discharge, many patients had ongoing cough, shortness of breath, oxygen use, and disability, but at lower rates. This likely reflects continuing recovery during the extra 30 days, but other potential explanations deserve consideration. One possibility is improving survival over the course of the pandemic. Many patients who may have passed away earlier in the pandemic now survive to return home, albeit with a heavy burden of symptomatology. This raises the possibility that symptoms among survivors may continue to increase as survival of COVID-19 improves. However, it should be noted that neither study is representative of the national patterns of hospitalization by race or ethnicity.³ Iwashyna et al¹ underrepresented Black patients, while Chopra et al² underrepresented Hispanic patients. Given what we know about outcomes for these populations and their underrepresentation in PASC literature, the impact of COVID-19 for them is likely underestimated. As data from 3, 6, or 12 months become available, we may also see the effect sizes described in this early literature become even larger.

Consistent with the findings of Chopra et al,² financial toxicity after COVID-19 hospitalization was high. The longer-term financial burden of COVID-19 will likely exceed what is described here, particularly for Black and Hispanic patients, who experienced a disproportionate drain on their savings. These populations are also more likely to be negatively impacted by the COVID economy⁴ and thus may suffer a “double hit” financially if hospitalized.

Iwashyna et al¹ underscore the urgent need for progress in understanding COVID “long-haulers”⁵ and helping patients with physical and financial recovery. Whether the spectacular innovations identified by the medical community in COVID-19 prevention and treatment of acute illness can be found for long COVID remains to be seen. The fact that so many patients studied by Iwashyna et al did not receive home care services and experienced financial toxicity shows the importance of broader implementation of systems and services to support survivors of COVID-19 hospitalization. Developers of this support must emphasize the importance of physical and cardiopulmonary rehabilitation as well as financial relief, particularly for minorities. For our patients and their families, this may be the best strategy to get “back to normal.”

The authors thank Dr Vineet Arora for reviewing and advising on this manuscript.

Is this patient a good candidate? In medicine, we subconsciously answer this question for every clinical decision we make. Occasionally, though, a clinical scenario is so complex that it cannot or should not be answered by a single individual. One example is the decision on whether a patient should receive an organ transplant. In this situation, a multidisciplinary committee weighs the complex ethical, clinical, and financial implications of the decision before coming to a verdict. Together, team members discuss the risks and benefits of each patient’s candidacy and, in a united fashion, decide the best course of care. For hospitalists, a far more common question occurs every day and is similarly fraught with multifaceted implications: Is my patient a good candidate for a skilled nursing facility (SNF)? We often rely on a single individual to make the final call, but should we instead be leveraging the expertise of other care team members to assist with this decision?

In this issue, Boyle et al¹ describe the implementation of a multidisciplinary team consisting of physicians, case managers, social workers, physical and occupational therapists, and home-health representatives that reviewed all patients with an expected discharge to a SNF. Case managers or social workers began the process by referring eligible patients to the committee for review. If deemed appropriate, the committee discussed each case and reached a consensus recommendation as to whether a SNF was an appropriate discharge destination. The investigators used a matched, preintervention sample as a comparison group, with a primary outcome of total discharges to SNFs, and secondary outcomes consisting of readmissions, time to readmission, and median length of stay. The authors observed a 49.7% relative reduction in total SNF discharges (25.5% of preintervention patients discharged to a SNF vs 12.8% postintervention), as well as a 66.9% relative reduction in new SNF discharges. Despite the significant reduction in SNF utilization, no differences were noted in readmissions, time to readmission, or readmission length of stay.

While this study was performed during the COVID-19 pandemic, several characteristics make its findings applicable beyond this period. First, the structure and workflow of the team are extensively detailed and make the intervention easily generalizable to most hospitals. Second, while not specifically examined, the outcome of SNF reduction likely corresponds to an increase in the patient’s time at home—an important patient-centered target for most posthospitalization plans.² Finally, the intervention used existing infrastructure and individuals, and did not require new resources to improve patient care, which increases the feasibility of implementation at other institutions.

These findings also reveal potential overutilization of SNFs in the discharge process. On average, a typical SNF stay costs the health system more than $11,000.³ A simple intervention could lead to substantial savings for individuals and the healthcare system. With a nearly 50% reduction in SNF use, understanding why patients who were eligible to go home were ultimately discharged to a SNF will be a crucial question to answer. Are there barriers to patient or family education? Is there a perceived safety difference between a SNF and home for nonskilled nursing needs? Additionally, care should be taken to ensure that decreases in SNF utilization do not disproportionately affect certain populations. Further work should assess the performance of similar models in a non-COVID era and among multiple institutions to verify potential scalability and generalizability.

Like organ transplant committees, Boyle et al’s multidisciplinary approach to reduce SNF discharges had to include thoughtful and intentional decisions. Perhaps it is time we use this same model to transplant patients back into their homes as safely and efficiently as possible.

Is this patient a good candidate? In medicine, we subconsciously answer this question for every clinical decision we make. Occasionally, though, a clinical scenario is so complex that it cannot or should not be answered by a single individual. One example is the decision on whether a patient should receive an organ transplant. In this situation, a multidisciplinary committee weighs the complex ethical, clinical, and financial implications of the decision before coming to a verdict. Together, team members discuss the risks and benefits of each patient’s candidacy and, in a united fashion, decide the best course of care. For hospitalists, a far more common question occurs every day and is similarly fraught with multifaceted implications: Is my patient a good candidate for a skilled nursing facility (SNF)? We often rely on a single individual to make the final call, but should we instead be leveraging the expertise of other care team members to assist with this decision?

In this issue, Boyle et al¹ describe the implementation of a multidisciplinary team consisting of physicians, case managers, social workers, physical and occupational therapists, and home-health representatives that reviewed all patients with an expected discharge to a SNF. Case managers or social workers began the process by referring eligible patients to the committee for review. If deemed appropriate, the committee discussed each case and reached a consensus recommendation as to whether a SNF was an appropriate discharge destination. The investigators used a matched, preintervention sample as a comparison group, with a primary outcome of total discharges to SNFs, and secondary outcomes consisting of readmissions, time to readmission, and median length of stay. The authors observed a 49.7% relative reduction in total SNF discharges (25.5% of preintervention patients discharged to a SNF vs 12.8% postintervention), as well as a 66.9% relative reduction in new SNF discharges. Despite the significant reduction in SNF utilization, no differences were noted in readmissions, time to readmission, or readmission length of stay.

While this study was performed during the COVID-19 pandemic, several characteristics make its findings applicable beyond this period. First, the structure and workflow of the team are extensively detailed and make the intervention easily generalizable to most hospitals. Second, while not specifically examined, the outcome of SNF reduction likely corresponds to an increase in the patient’s time at home—an important patient-centered target for most posthospitalization plans.² Finally, the intervention used existing infrastructure and individuals, and did not require new resources to improve patient care, which increases the feasibility of implementation at other institutions.

These findings also reveal potential overutilization of SNFs in the discharge process. On average, a typical SNF stay costs the health system more than $11,000.³ A simple intervention could lead to substantial savings for individuals and the healthcare system. With a nearly 50% reduction in SNF use, understanding why patients who were eligible to go home were ultimately discharged to a SNF will be a crucial question to answer. Are there barriers to patient or family education? Is there a perceived safety difference between a SNF and home for nonskilled nursing needs? Additionally, care should be taken to ensure that decreases in SNF utilization do not disproportionately affect certain populations. Further work should assess the performance of similar models in a non-COVID era and among multiple institutions to verify potential scalability and generalizability.

Like organ transplant committees, Boyle et al’s multidisciplinary approach to reduce SNF discharges had to include thoughtful and intentional decisions. Perhaps it is time we use this same model to transplant patients back into their homes as safely and efficiently as possible.

Is this patient a good candidate? In medicine, we subconsciously answer this question for every clinical decision we make. Occasionally, though, a clinical scenario is so complex that it cannot or should not be answered by a single individual. One example is the decision on whether a patient should receive an organ transplant. In this situation, a multidisciplinary committee weighs the complex ethical, clinical, and financial implications of the decision before coming to a verdict. Together, team members discuss the risks and benefits of each patient’s candidacy and, in a united fashion, decide the best course of care. For hospitalists, a far more common question occurs every day and is similarly fraught with multifaceted implications: Is my patient a good candidate for a skilled nursing facility (SNF)? We often rely on a single individual to make the final call, but should we instead be leveraging the expertise of other care team members to assist with this decision?

In this issue, Boyle et al¹ describe the implementation of a multidisciplinary team consisting of physicians, case managers, social workers, physical and occupational therapists, and home-health representatives that reviewed all patients with an expected discharge to a SNF. Case managers or social workers began the process by referring eligible patients to the committee for review. If deemed appropriate, the committee discussed each case and reached a consensus recommendation as to whether a SNF was an appropriate discharge destination. The investigators used a matched, preintervention sample as a comparison group, with a primary outcome of total discharges to SNFs, and secondary outcomes consisting of readmissions, time to readmission, and median length of stay. The authors observed a 49.7% relative reduction in total SNF discharges (25.5% of preintervention patients discharged to a SNF vs 12.8% postintervention), as well as a 66.9% relative reduction in new SNF discharges. Despite the significant reduction in SNF utilization, no differences were noted in readmissions, time to readmission, or readmission length of stay.

While this study was performed during the COVID-19 pandemic, several characteristics make its findings applicable beyond this period. First, the structure and workflow of the team are extensively detailed and make the intervention easily generalizable to most hospitals. Second, while not specifically examined, the outcome of SNF reduction likely corresponds to an increase in the patient’s time at home—an important patient-centered target for most posthospitalization plans.² Finally, the intervention used existing infrastructure and individuals, and did not require new resources to improve patient care, which increases the feasibility of implementation at other institutions.

These findings also reveal potential overutilization of SNFs in the discharge process. On average, a typical SNF stay costs the health system more than $11,000.³ A simple intervention could lead to substantial savings for individuals and the healthcare system. With a nearly 50% reduction in SNF use, understanding why patients who were eligible to go home were ultimately discharged to a SNF will be a crucial question to answer. Are there barriers to patient or family education? Is there a perceived safety difference between a SNF and home for nonskilled nursing needs? Additionally, care should be taken to ensure that decreases in SNF utilization do not disproportionately affect certain populations. Further work should assess the performance of similar models in a non-COVID era and among multiple institutions to verify potential scalability and generalizability.

Like organ transplant committees, Boyle et al’s multidisciplinary approach to reduce SNF discharges had to include thoughtful and intentional decisions. Perhaps it is time we use this same model to transplant patients back into their homes as safely and efficiently as possible.

Earlier this year, the Journal of Hospital Medicine updated its author guidelines to include recommendations on addressing race and racism.¹ These recommendations include explicitly naming racism (rather than race) as a determinant of health. Operationalizing these recommendations into manuscripts represents a fundamental shift in how we ask research questions, structure analyses, and interpret results.

In this issue, Maxwell et al² illustrate how to disseminate research through this lens in their retrospective cohort study of children with type 1 diabetes hospitalized with diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA). Using 6 years of data from a major academic pediatric medical center, the authors examine the association between risk for DKA admission and three factors: neighborhood poverty level, race, and type of insurance (public or private). Secondary outcomes include DKA severity and length of stay. In their unadjusted model, poverty, race, and insurance were all associated with increased hospitalizations. However, following adjustment, the association between race and hospitalizations disappeared.In line with the journal’s new guidelines, the authors point out that the statistically significant associations of poverty and insurance type with clinical outcomes suggest that racism, rather than race, is a social factor at work in their population. The authors provide further context regarding structural racism in the United States and the history of redlining, which has helped shape a society in which Black individuals are more likely to live in areas of concentrated poverty and be publicly insured.

Two other findings related to the impact of racism are notable. First, in both their univariate and multivariate models, the authors found significant A1c differences between Black and White children—higher than those of previous reports.³ These findings suggest the existence of structural factors at work in the health of their patients. Second, Black patients had longer lengths of stay when compared to White patients with the same severity of DKA. Neither poverty level nor insurance status were significantly associated with length of stay. While the analysis was limited to detecting this difference, rather than identifying its causes, the authors suggest factors at both individual and structural levels that may be impacting outcomes. Specifically, care team bias may impact discharge decisions, and factors such as less flexible times to complete diabetes education, transportation barriers, and childcare challenges could also impact discharge timing.

This work provides a template for how to address the impact of racism on health with intentionality. Moreover, individuals’ lived environments should be considered through alternative economic measurements and neighborhood definitions. The proportion of people within a census tract living below the federal poverty line is just one measure of the complex dynamics that contribute to an individual’s socioeconomic status. An alternative measure is the area deprivation index, which incorporates 17 indicators at the more granular census block group level to describe an individual’s environment⁴ and could be useful in this area of research.

Perhaps most relevant is the use of public insurance as a marker of socioeconomic status. Medicaid, although not without its flaws, provides fairly comprehensive coverage. However, many Americans have incomes too high to qualify for public insurance but too low to afford adequate insurance coverage. Theoretically, these individuals qualify for subsidies through the Affordable Care Act, yet underinsurance remains a significant issue.⁵ Future analyses to further understand and describe clinical outcomes could include this population of underinsured children as a distinct at-risk group. Maxwell et al² provide an excellent example of how we should address race and racism in disseminated literature. Although initially challenging, writing with intentionality regarding this fundamental determinant of health can provide rich and actionable information for practitioners and policy-makers.

Earlier this year, the Journal of Hospital Medicine updated its author guidelines to include recommendations on addressing race and racism.¹ These recommendations include explicitly naming racism (rather than race) as a determinant of health. Operationalizing these recommendations into manuscripts represents a fundamental shift in how we ask research questions, structure analyses, and interpret results.

In this issue, Maxwell et al² illustrate how to disseminate research through this lens in their retrospective cohort study of children with type 1 diabetes hospitalized with diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA). Using 6 years of data from a major academic pediatric medical center, the authors examine the association between risk for DKA admission and three factors: neighborhood poverty level, race, and type of insurance (public or private). Secondary outcomes include DKA severity and length of stay. In their unadjusted model, poverty, race, and insurance were all associated with increased hospitalizations. However, following adjustment, the association between race and hospitalizations disappeared.In line with the journal’s new guidelines, the authors point out that the statistically significant associations of poverty and insurance type with clinical outcomes suggest that racism, rather than race, is a social factor at work in their population. The authors provide further context regarding structural racism in the United States and the history of redlining, which has helped shape a society in which Black individuals are more likely to live in areas of concentrated poverty and be publicly insured.

Two other findings related to the impact of racism are notable. First, in both their univariate and multivariate models, the authors found significant A1c differences between Black and White children—higher than those of previous reports.³ These findings suggest the existence of structural factors at work in the health of their patients. Second, Black patients had longer lengths of stay when compared to White patients with the same severity of DKA. Neither poverty level nor insurance status were significantly associated with length of stay. While the analysis was limited to detecting this difference, rather than identifying its causes, the authors suggest factors at both individual and structural levels that may be impacting outcomes. Specifically, care team bias may impact discharge decisions, and factors such as less flexible times to complete diabetes education, transportation barriers, and childcare challenges could also impact discharge timing.

This work provides a template for how to address the impact of racism on health with intentionality. Moreover, individuals’ lived environments should be considered through alternative economic measurements and neighborhood definitions. The proportion of people within a census tract living below the federal poverty line is just one measure of the complex dynamics that contribute to an individual’s socioeconomic status. An alternative measure is the area deprivation index, which incorporates 17 indicators at the more granular census block group level to describe an individual’s environment⁴ and could be useful in this area of research.

Perhaps most relevant is the use of public insurance as a marker of socioeconomic status. Medicaid, although not without its flaws, provides fairly comprehensive coverage. However, many Americans have incomes too high to qualify for public insurance but too low to afford adequate insurance coverage. Theoretically, these individuals qualify for subsidies through the Affordable Care Act, yet underinsurance remains a significant issue.⁵ Future analyses to further understand and describe clinical outcomes could include this population of underinsured children as a distinct at-risk group. Maxwell et al² provide an excellent example of how we should address race and racism in disseminated literature. Although initially challenging, writing with intentionality regarding this fundamental determinant of health can provide rich and actionable information for practitioners and policy-makers.

Earlier this year, the Journal of Hospital Medicine updated its author guidelines to include recommendations on addressing race and racism.¹ These recommendations include explicitly naming racism (rather than race) as a determinant of health. Operationalizing these recommendations into manuscripts represents a fundamental shift in how we ask research questions, structure analyses, and interpret results.

In this issue, Maxwell et al² illustrate how to disseminate research through this lens in their retrospective cohort study of children with type 1 diabetes hospitalized with diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA). Using 6 years of data from a major academic pediatric medical center, the authors examine the association between risk for DKA admission and three factors: neighborhood poverty level, race, and type of insurance (public or private). Secondary outcomes include DKA severity and length of stay. In their unadjusted model, poverty, race, and insurance were all associated with increased hospitalizations. However, following adjustment, the association between race and hospitalizations disappeared.In line with the journal’s new guidelines, the authors point out that the statistically significant associations of poverty and insurance type with clinical outcomes suggest that racism, rather than race, is a social factor at work in their population. The authors provide further context regarding structural racism in the United States and the history of redlining, which has helped shape a society in which Black individuals are more likely to live in areas of concentrated poverty and be publicly insured.

Two other findings related to the impact of racism are notable. First, in both their univariate and multivariate models, the authors found significant A1c differences between Black and White children—higher than those of previous reports.³ These findings suggest the existence of structural factors at work in the health of their patients. Second, Black patients had longer lengths of stay when compared to White patients with the same severity of DKA. Neither poverty level nor insurance status were significantly associated with length of stay. While the analysis was limited to detecting this difference, rather than identifying its causes, the authors suggest factors at both individual and structural levels that may be impacting outcomes. Specifically, care team bias may impact discharge decisions, and factors such as less flexible times to complete diabetes education, transportation barriers, and childcare challenges could also impact discharge timing.

This work provides a template for how to address the impact of racism on health with intentionality. Moreover, individuals’ lived environments should be considered through alternative economic measurements and neighborhood definitions. The proportion of people within a census tract living below the federal poverty line is just one measure of the complex dynamics that contribute to an individual’s socioeconomic status. An alternative measure is the area deprivation index, which incorporates 17 indicators at the more granular census block group level to describe an individual’s environment⁴ and could be useful in this area of research.

Perhaps most relevant is the use of public insurance as a marker of socioeconomic status. Medicaid, although not without its flaws, provides fairly comprehensive coverage. However, many Americans have incomes too high to qualify for public insurance but too low to afford adequate insurance coverage. Theoretically, these individuals qualify for subsidies through the Affordable Care Act, yet underinsurance remains a significant issue.⁵ Future analyses to further understand and describe clinical outcomes could include this population of underinsured children as a distinct at-risk group. Maxwell et al² provide an excellent example of how we should address race and racism in disseminated literature. Although initially challenging, writing with intentionality regarding this fundamental determinant of health can provide rich and actionable information for practitioners and policy-makers.

The death ‘dog’

Imagine you’re out in your backyard managing the grill for a big family barbecue. You’ve got a dazzling assortment of meat assorted on your fancy new propane grill, all charring nicely. Naturally, the hot dogs finish first, and as you pull them off, you figure you’ll help yourself to one now. After all, you are the chef, you deserve a reward. But, as you bite into your smoking hot sandwich, a cold, bony finger taps you on the shoulder. You turn and come face to face with the Grim Reaper. “YOU JUST LOST 36 MINUTES,” Death says. “ALSO, MAY I HAVE ONE OF THOSE? THEY LOOK DELICIOUS.”

PxHere

Nonplussed and moving automatically, you scoop up another hot dog and place it in a bun. “WITH KETCHUP PLEASE,” Death says. “I NEVER CARED FOR MUSTARD.”

“I don’t understand,” you say. “Surely I won’t die at a family barbecue.”

“DO NOT CALL ME SHIRLEY,” Death says. “AND YOU WILL NOT. IT’S PART OF MY NEW CONTRACT.”

A new study, published in Nature Food, found that a person may lose up to 36 minutes for every hot dog consumed. Researchers from the University of Michigan analyzed nearly 6,000 different foods using a new nutritional index to quantify their health effects in minutes of healthy life lost or gained. Eating a serving of nuts adds an extra 26 minutes of life. The researchers determined that replacing just 10% of daily caloric intake from beef and processed foods with fruits, vegetables, and nuts can add 48 minutes per day. It would also reduce the daily carbon footprint by 33%.

“So you go around to everyone eating bad food and tell them how much life they’ve lost?” you ask when the Grim Reaper finishes his story. “Sounds like a drag.”

“IT IS. WE’VE HAD TO HIRE NEW BLOOD.” Death chuckles at its own bad pun. “NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I MUST CHASTISE A MAN IN FLORIDA FOR EATING A WELL-DONE STEAK.”
 

More stress, less sex

As the world becomes a more stressful place, the human population could face a 50% drop by the end of the century.

John Hain/Pixabay

Think of stress as a one-two punch to the libido and human fertility. The more people are stressed out, the less likely they are to have quality interactions with others. Many of us would rather be alone with our wine and cheese to watch our favorite show.

Researchers have found that high stress levels have been known to drop sperm count, ovulation, and sexual activity. Guess what? There has been a 50% decrease in sperm counts over the last 50 years. That’s the second punch. But let’s not forget, the times are changing.

“Changes in reproductive behavior that contribute to the population drop include more young couples choosing to be ‘child-free,’ people having fewer children, and couples waiting longer to start families,” said Alexander Suvorov, PhD, of the University of Massachusetts, the paper’s author.

Let’s summarize: The more stress we’re dealing with, the less people want to deal with each other.

Who would have thought the future would be less fun?
 

‘You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.’

WARNING: The following descriptions of COVID-19–related insanity may be offensive to some readers.

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first round of Pandemic Pandemonium. Let’s get right to the action.

South_agency/Getty Images

This week’s preshow match-off involves face mask woes. The first comes to us from Alabama, where a woman wore a space helmet to a school board meeting to protest mask mandates. The second comes from Australia, in the form of mischievous magpies. We will explain.

It is not uncommon for magpies to attack those who come too close to their nests in the spring, or “swooping season,” as it’s affectionately called. The magpies are smart enough to recognize the faces of people they see regularly and not attack; however, it’s feared that mask wearing will change this.

While you’re chewing on that exciting appetizer, let’s take a look at our main course, which has a distinct governmental flavor. Jeff Landry is the attorney general of Louisiana, and, like our space-helmet wearer, he’s not a fan of mask mandates. According to Business Insider, Mr. Landry “drafted and distributed sample letters intended to help parents evade mask-wearing ordinances and COVID-19 vaccination requirements for their children in schools.”

Up against him is the Food and Drug Administration’s Twitter account. In an unrelated matter, the agency tweeted, “You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.” This was in response to people using the nonhuman forms of ivermectin to treat very human COVID-19.

Well, there you have it. Who will win tonight’s exciting edition of Pandemic Pandemonium? The first reader to contact us gets to decide the fate of these worthy contestants.
 

From venomous poison to heart drug

It’s not likely that anyone who sees a giant, venomous spider is thinking, “Hey! That thing could save my life!” It’s usually quite the opposite. Honestly, we would run away from just about any spider. But what if one of the deadliest spiders in the world could also save you from dying of a heart attack?

PxHere

You probably don’t believe us, right? That’s fair, but the deadly Fraser Island (K’gari) funnel web spider, might also be the most helpful. Investigators from the University of Queensland in Australia have found a way to extract a molecule from the spider’s venom that might help stop damage from heart attacks and may even preserve hearts being used for transplants. “The Hi1a protein from spider venom blocks acid-sensing ion channels in the heart, so the death message is blocked, cell death is reduced, and we see improved heart cell survival,” Nathan Palpant, PhD, of the university, noted in a written statement.

No one has ever developed a drug to stop the “death signal,” so maybe it’s time to befriend spiders instead of running away from them in horror. Just leave the venom extraction to the professionals.

The death ‘dog’

Imagine you’re out in your backyard managing the grill for a big family barbecue. You’ve got a dazzling assortment of meat assorted on your fancy new propane grill, all charring nicely. Naturally, the hot dogs finish first, and as you pull them off, you figure you’ll help yourself to one now. After all, you are the chef, you deserve a reward. But, as you bite into your smoking hot sandwich, a cold, bony finger taps you on the shoulder. You turn and come face to face with the Grim Reaper. “YOU JUST LOST 36 MINUTES,” Death says. “ALSO, MAY I HAVE ONE OF THOSE? THEY LOOK DELICIOUS.”

PxHere

Nonplussed and moving automatically, you scoop up another hot dog and place it in a bun. “WITH KETCHUP PLEASE,” Death says. “I NEVER CARED FOR MUSTARD.”

“I don’t understand,” you say. “Surely I won’t die at a family barbecue.”

“DO NOT CALL ME SHIRLEY,” Death says. “AND YOU WILL NOT. IT’S PART OF MY NEW CONTRACT.”

A new study, published in Nature Food, found that a person may lose up to 36 minutes for every hot dog consumed. Researchers from the University of Michigan analyzed nearly 6,000 different foods using a new nutritional index to quantify their health effects in minutes of healthy life lost or gained. Eating a serving of nuts adds an extra 26 minutes of life. The researchers determined that replacing just 10% of daily caloric intake from beef and processed foods with fruits, vegetables, and nuts can add 48 minutes per day. It would also reduce the daily carbon footprint by 33%.

“So you go around to everyone eating bad food and tell them how much life they’ve lost?” you ask when the Grim Reaper finishes his story. “Sounds like a drag.”

“IT IS. WE’VE HAD TO HIRE NEW BLOOD.” Death chuckles at its own bad pun. “NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I MUST CHASTISE A MAN IN FLORIDA FOR EATING A WELL-DONE STEAK.”
 

More stress, less sex

As the world becomes a more stressful place, the human population could face a 50% drop by the end of the century.

John Hain/Pixabay

Think of stress as a one-two punch to the libido and human fertility. The more people are stressed out, the less likely they are to have quality interactions with others. Many of us would rather be alone with our wine and cheese to watch our favorite show.

Researchers have found that high stress levels have been known to drop sperm count, ovulation, and sexual activity. Guess what? There has been a 50% decrease in sperm counts over the last 50 years. That’s the second punch. But let’s not forget, the times are changing.

“Changes in reproductive behavior that contribute to the population drop include more young couples choosing to be ‘child-free,’ people having fewer children, and couples waiting longer to start families,” said Alexander Suvorov, PhD, of the University of Massachusetts, the paper’s author.

Let’s summarize: The more stress we’re dealing with, the less people want to deal with each other.

Who would have thought the future would be less fun?
 

‘You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.’

WARNING: The following descriptions of COVID-19–related insanity may be offensive to some readers.

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first round of Pandemic Pandemonium. Let’s get right to the action.

South_agency/Getty Images

This week’s preshow match-off involves face mask woes. The first comes to us from Alabama, where a woman wore a space helmet to a school board meeting to protest mask mandates. The second comes from Australia, in the form of mischievous magpies. We will explain.

It is not uncommon for magpies to attack those who come too close to their nests in the spring, or “swooping season,” as it’s affectionately called. The magpies are smart enough to recognize the faces of people they see regularly and not attack; however, it’s feared that mask wearing will change this.

While you’re chewing on that exciting appetizer, let’s take a look at our main course, which has a distinct governmental flavor. Jeff Landry is the attorney general of Louisiana, and, like our space-helmet wearer, he’s not a fan of mask mandates. According to Business Insider, Mr. Landry “drafted and distributed sample letters intended to help parents evade mask-wearing ordinances and COVID-19 vaccination requirements for their children in schools.”

Up against him is the Food and Drug Administration’s Twitter account. In an unrelated matter, the agency tweeted, “You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.” This was in response to people using the nonhuman forms of ivermectin to treat very human COVID-19.

Well, there you have it. Who will win tonight’s exciting edition of Pandemic Pandemonium? The first reader to contact us gets to decide the fate of these worthy contestants.
 

From venomous poison to heart drug

It’s not likely that anyone who sees a giant, venomous spider is thinking, “Hey! That thing could save my life!” It’s usually quite the opposite. Honestly, we would run away from just about any spider. But what if one of the deadliest spiders in the world could also save you from dying of a heart attack?

PxHere

You probably don’t believe us, right? That’s fair, but the deadly Fraser Island (K’gari) funnel web spider, might also be the most helpful. Investigators from the University of Queensland in Australia have found a way to extract a molecule from the spider’s venom that might help stop damage from heart attacks and may even preserve hearts being used for transplants. “The Hi1a protein from spider venom blocks acid-sensing ion channels in the heart, so the death message is blocked, cell death is reduced, and we see improved heart cell survival,” Nathan Palpant, PhD, of the university, noted in a written statement.

No one has ever developed a drug to stop the “death signal,” so maybe it’s time to befriend spiders instead of running away from them in horror. Just leave the venom extraction to the professionals.

The death ‘dog’

Imagine you’re out in your backyard managing the grill for a big family barbecue. You’ve got a dazzling assortment of meat assorted on your fancy new propane grill, all charring nicely. Naturally, the hot dogs finish first, and as you pull them off, you figure you’ll help yourself to one now. After all, you are the chef, you deserve a reward. But, as you bite into your smoking hot sandwich, a cold, bony finger taps you on the shoulder. You turn and come face to face with the Grim Reaper. “YOU JUST LOST 36 MINUTES,” Death says. “ALSO, MAY I HAVE ONE OF THOSE? THEY LOOK DELICIOUS.”

PxHere

Nonplussed and moving automatically, you scoop up another hot dog and place it in a bun. “WITH KETCHUP PLEASE,” Death says. “I NEVER CARED FOR MUSTARD.”

“I don’t understand,” you say. “Surely I won’t die at a family barbecue.”

“DO NOT CALL ME SHIRLEY,” Death says. “AND YOU WILL NOT. IT’S PART OF MY NEW CONTRACT.”

A new study, published in Nature Food, found that a person may lose up to 36 minutes for every hot dog consumed. Researchers from the University of Michigan analyzed nearly 6,000 different foods using a new nutritional index to quantify their health effects in minutes of healthy life lost or gained. Eating a serving of nuts adds an extra 26 minutes of life. The researchers determined that replacing just 10% of daily caloric intake from beef and processed foods with fruits, vegetables, and nuts can add 48 minutes per day. It would also reduce the daily carbon footprint by 33%.

“So you go around to everyone eating bad food and tell them how much life they’ve lost?” you ask when the Grim Reaper finishes his story. “Sounds like a drag.”

“IT IS. WE’VE HAD TO HIRE NEW BLOOD.” Death chuckles at its own bad pun. “NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I MUST CHASTISE A MAN IN FLORIDA FOR EATING A WELL-DONE STEAK.”
 

More stress, less sex

As the world becomes a more stressful place, the human population could face a 50% drop by the end of the century.

John Hain/Pixabay

Think of stress as a one-two punch to the libido and human fertility. The more people are stressed out, the less likely they are to have quality interactions with others. Many of us would rather be alone with our wine and cheese to watch our favorite show.

Researchers have found that high stress levels have been known to drop sperm count, ovulation, and sexual activity. Guess what? There has been a 50% decrease in sperm counts over the last 50 years. That’s the second punch. But let’s not forget, the times are changing.

“Changes in reproductive behavior that contribute to the population drop include more young couples choosing to be ‘child-free,’ people having fewer children, and couples waiting longer to start families,” said Alexander Suvorov, PhD, of the University of Massachusetts, the paper’s author.

Let’s summarize: The more stress we’re dealing with, the less people want to deal with each other.

Who would have thought the future would be less fun?
 

‘You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.’

WARNING: The following descriptions of COVID-19–related insanity may be offensive to some readers.

Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first round of Pandemic Pandemonium. Let’s get right to the action.

South_agency/Getty Images

This week’s preshow match-off involves face mask woes. The first comes to us from Alabama, where a woman wore a space helmet to a school board meeting to protest mask mandates. The second comes from Australia, in the form of mischievous magpies. We will explain.

It is not uncommon for magpies to attack those who come too close to their nests in the spring, or “swooping season,” as it’s affectionately called. The magpies are smart enough to recognize the faces of people they see regularly and not attack; however, it’s feared that mask wearing will change this.

While you’re chewing on that exciting appetizer, let’s take a look at our main course, which has a distinct governmental flavor. Jeff Landry is the attorney general of Louisiana, and, like our space-helmet wearer, he’s not a fan of mask mandates. According to Business Insider, Mr. Landry “drafted and distributed sample letters intended to help parents evade mask-wearing ordinances and COVID-19 vaccination requirements for their children in schools.”

Up against him is the Food and Drug Administration’s Twitter account. In an unrelated matter, the agency tweeted, “You are not a horse. You are not a cow. Seriously, y’all. Stop it.” This was in response to people using the nonhuman forms of ivermectin to treat very human COVID-19.

Well, there you have it. Who will win tonight’s exciting edition of Pandemic Pandemonium? The first reader to contact us gets to decide the fate of these worthy contestants.
 

From venomous poison to heart drug

It’s not likely that anyone who sees a giant, venomous spider is thinking, “Hey! That thing could save my life!” It’s usually quite the opposite. Honestly, we would run away from just about any spider. But what if one of the deadliest spiders in the world could also save you from dying of a heart attack?

PxHere

You probably don’t believe us, right? That’s fair, but the deadly Fraser Island (K’gari) funnel web spider, might also be the most helpful. Investigators from the University of Queensland in Australia have found a way to extract a molecule from the spider’s venom that might help stop damage from heart attacks and may even preserve hearts being used for transplants. “The Hi1a protein from spider venom blocks acid-sensing ion channels in the heart, so the death message is blocked, cell death is reduced, and we see improved heart cell survival,” Nathan Palpant, PhD, of the university, noted in a written statement.

No one has ever developed a drug to stop the “death signal,” so maybe it’s time to befriend spiders instead of running away from them in horror. Just leave the venom extraction to the professionals.

The manifestation of what appeared to be an exaggerated sunburn with associated pruritis and blistering (made worse after sun exposure), along with the recent initiation of HCTZ, led to the diagnosis of a phototoxic drug reaction.

There are 2 principal mechanisms of photosensitive drug reactions, phototoxic and photoallergic. Phototoxic reactions occur when the drug absorbs UVA light, causing a chemical reaction that produces either free radicals or stable photoproducts, both of which can cause DNA and tissue damage. This mechanism is more common; the time of onset between exposure and reaction is minutes to hours (as seen with this patient), and the reaction manifests with an exaggerated sunburn appearance.¹

Photoallergic reactions typically occur by a delayed-immune response, mediated by photoallergic-specific T-cells reacting to photohaptens. This mechanism is less common, and the time of onset is greater than 24 hours. Photoallergic reactions often present as an eczematous dermatitis and can involve regions not directly exposed to sun.

In this case, the presumed offending agent—HCTZ—was discontinued, and the patient was advised to take sun-protective measures and use topical emollients, cool compresses, and oral analgesics for his acute symptoms. Photoallergic reactions look less like a discrete sunburn and can be treated symptomatically with topical or oral steroids. In addition, the implicated medication should be discontinued.

‌

Text courtesy of Amanda Yaney, MD, and Daniel Stulberg, MD, Department of Family and Community Medicine, University of New Mexico School of Medicine, Albuquerque. Image courtesy of Daniel Stulberg, MD.

The manifestation of what appeared to be an exaggerated sunburn with associated pruritis and blistering (made worse after sun exposure), along with the recent initiation of HCTZ, led to the diagnosis of a phototoxic drug reaction.

There are 2 principal mechanisms of photosensitive drug reactions, phototoxic and photoallergic. Phototoxic reactions occur when the drug absorbs UVA light, causing a chemical reaction that produces either free radicals or stable photoproducts, both of which can cause DNA and tissue damage. This mechanism is more common; the time of onset between exposure and reaction is minutes to hours (as seen with this patient), and the reaction manifests with an exaggerated sunburn appearance.¹

Photoallergic reactions typically occur by a delayed-immune response, mediated by photoallergic-specific T-cells reacting to photohaptens. This mechanism is less common, and the time of onset is greater than 24 hours. Photoallergic reactions often present as an eczematous dermatitis and can involve regions not directly exposed to sun.

In this case, the presumed offending agent—HCTZ—was discontinued, and the patient was advised to take sun-protective measures and use topical emollients, cool compresses, and oral analgesics for his acute symptoms. Photoallergic reactions look less like a discrete sunburn and can be treated symptomatically with topical or oral steroids. In addition, the implicated medication should be discontinued.

‌

Text courtesy of Amanda Yaney, MD, and Daniel Stulberg, MD, Department of Family and Community Medicine, University of New Mexico School of Medicine, Albuquerque. Image courtesy of Daniel Stulberg, MD.

The manifestation of what appeared to be an exaggerated sunburn with associated pruritis and blistering (made worse after sun exposure), along with the recent initiation of HCTZ, led to the diagnosis of a phototoxic drug reaction.

There are 2 principal mechanisms of photosensitive drug reactions, phototoxic and photoallergic. Phototoxic reactions occur when the drug absorbs UVA light, causing a chemical reaction that produces either free radicals or stable photoproducts, both of which can cause DNA and tissue damage. This mechanism is more common; the time of onset between exposure and reaction is minutes to hours (as seen with this patient), and the reaction manifests with an exaggerated sunburn appearance.¹

Photoallergic reactions typically occur by a delayed-immune response, mediated by photoallergic-specific T-cells reacting to photohaptens. This mechanism is less common, and the time of onset is greater than 24 hours. Photoallergic reactions often present as an eczematous dermatitis and can involve regions not directly exposed to sun.

In this case, the presumed offending agent—HCTZ—was discontinued, and the patient was advised to take sun-protective measures and use topical emollients, cool compresses, and oral analgesics for his acute symptoms. Photoallergic reactions look less like a discrete sunburn and can be treated symptomatically with topical or oral steroids. In addition, the implicated medication should be discontinued.

‌

Text courtesy of Amanda Yaney, MD, and Daniel Stulberg, MD, Department of Family and Community Medicine, University of New Mexico School of Medicine, Albuquerque. Image courtesy of Daniel Stulberg, MD.

Young Black athletes who suffered concussions while playing sports were quicker to return to school and less likely to adjust their daily routines than young White athletes, according to a new study on racial differences in concussion recovery.

“The findings from this study provide novel evidence that the recovery experience following sport-related concussion likely differs between Black and White athletes, and understanding these differences may serve to provide better and more personalized intervention and management strategies,” wrote lead author Aaron M. Yengo-Kahn, MD, of Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn. The study was published in the Journal of Neurosurgery: Pediatrics.

To assess how postconcussion experiences and recovery time differ among young White and Black athletes, the researchers launched a retrospective cohort study of youths between the ages of 12 and 23 from the middle Tennessee, northern Alabama, and southern Kentucky regions who had been treated for sport-related concussion. Using data from the Vanderbilt Sports Concussion Center’s outcome registry, they examined the records of 247 student-athletes, 211 of whom were White and 36 of whom were Black.

The majority of the athletes were male – 58% of the White group and 78% of the Black group – and their average age across groups was roughly 16 years. Thirty-three percent of the Black athletes were on public insurance, compared with just 6% of the White athletes, and 41% of the Black athletes lived in low–median income areas while 55% of the White athletes lived in areas with a high median income. Approximately 90% of each group played contact sports.

The median time to symptom resolution was 21 days (interquartile range, 10.5-61.0) for White athletes but just 12.3 days (IQR, 6.8-28.0) for Black athletes. Multivariable regression confirmed that Black athletes reached asymptomatic status sooner than White athletes (hazard ratio, 1.497; 95% confidence interval, 1.014-2.209; P = .042). “The observed shorter symptom resolution among the Black athletes may be explained by a complex interplay among race, concussion knowledge, attitudes toward sport-related concussion, reporting behavior, and sociodemographic disparities,” the authors noted.

The median time until returning to school post injury was 2 school days (IQR, 0-5) for White athletes and 0 school days (IQR, 0-2) for Black athletes. After multivariable analysis, being Black was indeed associated with returning to school sooner, compared with being White (HR, 1.522; 95% CI, 1.02-2,27; P = .040). Being Black was also associated with being less likely to a report a change in daily activity post concussion (odds ratio, 0.368; 95% CI, 0.136-0.996; P = .049).
 

Adding race to research

To make headway toward understanding race’s impact on concussion research, the authors proposed three immediate steps: Work directly with schools instead of clinics or emergency departments, match the diversity of study cohorts with the racial makeup of the surrounding community, and consider race as a covariate during study design.

“In our work with concussions, there is very little reported on race or racism or how racism affects how patients are navigating these spaces,” said coauthor Jessica Wallace, PhD, of the department of health science at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., in an interview. “But we have so many athletes at the youth level, adolescent level, even the collegiate level; it’s such a diverse array of patients. We need to have data representative of all of our groups so that we know where we need to be intentional about reducing disparities and closing gaps.”

Dr. Wallace, who recently authored a study on the underreporting of concussions among Black and White high school athletes, emphasized the need for concussion research to be a true collaboration across disciplines.

“I approach this work from this public health and athletic training lens, whereas a lot of my collaborators are in neurosurgery and neurology,” she said. “Moving forward, we as a scientific clinical community have to do interdisciplinary work and be very intentional about how we go about closing these gaps. We have to recognize that there are differences in knowledge and in care, and they’re unacceptable, and we have to work collaboratively in providing resources to communities equitably to decrease them.”

The authors acknowledged their study’s limitations, including the retrospective nature of the study, using zip codes to determine median household income, and an unbalanced number of White and Black athletes. They did add, however, that the ratio of participants “generally aligns with census data in the surrounding metropolitan and county areas.” That said, they also surmised that the scarcity of Black athletes could indicate a deeper disparity in health care system usage and asked future researchers to “consider enrolling athletes directly from schools rather than from within the concussion clinic only.”

Dr. Yengo-Kahn disclosed holding a compensated position on the scientific advisory board of BlinkTBI, but the authors noted that the company had no role in the study and its products were not used. No other conflicts of interest were reported.

Young Black athletes who suffered concussions while playing sports were quicker to return to school and less likely to adjust their daily routines than young White athletes, according to a new study on racial differences in concussion recovery.

“The findings from this study provide novel evidence that the recovery experience following sport-related concussion likely differs between Black and White athletes, and understanding these differences may serve to provide better and more personalized intervention and management strategies,” wrote lead author Aaron M. Yengo-Kahn, MD, of Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn. The study was published in the Journal of Neurosurgery: Pediatrics.

To assess how postconcussion experiences and recovery time differ among young White and Black athletes, the researchers launched a retrospective cohort study of youths between the ages of 12 and 23 from the middle Tennessee, northern Alabama, and southern Kentucky regions who had been treated for sport-related concussion. Using data from the Vanderbilt Sports Concussion Center’s outcome registry, they examined the records of 247 student-athletes, 211 of whom were White and 36 of whom were Black.

The majority of the athletes were male – 58% of the White group and 78% of the Black group – and their average age across groups was roughly 16 years. Thirty-three percent of the Black athletes were on public insurance, compared with just 6% of the White athletes, and 41% of the Black athletes lived in low–median income areas while 55% of the White athletes lived in areas with a high median income. Approximately 90% of each group played contact sports.

The median time to symptom resolution was 21 days (interquartile range, 10.5-61.0) for White athletes but just 12.3 days (IQR, 6.8-28.0) for Black athletes. Multivariable regression confirmed that Black athletes reached asymptomatic status sooner than White athletes (hazard ratio, 1.497; 95% confidence interval, 1.014-2.209; P = .042). “The observed shorter symptom resolution among the Black athletes may be explained by a complex interplay among race, concussion knowledge, attitudes toward sport-related concussion, reporting behavior, and sociodemographic disparities,” the authors noted.

The median time until returning to school post injury was 2 school days (IQR, 0-5) for White athletes and 0 school days (IQR, 0-2) for Black athletes. After multivariable analysis, being Black was indeed associated with returning to school sooner, compared with being White (HR, 1.522; 95% CI, 1.02-2,27; P = .040). Being Black was also associated with being less likely to a report a change in daily activity post concussion (odds ratio, 0.368; 95% CI, 0.136-0.996; P = .049).
 

Adding race to research

To make headway toward understanding race’s impact on concussion research, the authors proposed three immediate steps: Work directly with schools instead of clinics or emergency departments, match the diversity of study cohorts with the racial makeup of the surrounding community, and consider race as a covariate during study design.

“In our work with concussions, there is very little reported on race or racism or how racism affects how patients are navigating these spaces,” said coauthor Jessica Wallace, PhD, of the department of health science at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., in an interview. “But we have so many athletes at the youth level, adolescent level, even the collegiate level; it’s such a diverse array of patients. We need to have data representative of all of our groups so that we know where we need to be intentional about reducing disparities and closing gaps.”

Dr. Wallace, who recently authored a study on the underreporting of concussions among Black and White high school athletes, emphasized the need for concussion research to be a true collaboration across disciplines.

“I approach this work from this public health and athletic training lens, whereas a lot of my collaborators are in neurosurgery and neurology,” she said. “Moving forward, we as a scientific clinical community have to do interdisciplinary work and be very intentional about how we go about closing these gaps. We have to recognize that there are differences in knowledge and in care, and they’re unacceptable, and we have to work collaboratively in providing resources to communities equitably to decrease them.”

The authors acknowledged their study’s limitations, including the retrospective nature of the study, using zip codes to determine median household income, and an unbalanced number of White and Black athletes. They did add, however, that the ratio of participants “generally aligns with census data in the surrounding metropolitan and county areas.” That said, they also surmised that the scarcity of Black athletes could indicate a deeper disparity in health care system usage and asked future researchers to “consider enrolling athletes directly from schools rather than from within the concussion clinic only.”

Dr. Yengo-Kahn disclosed holding a compensated position on the scientific advisory board of BlinkTBI, but the authors noted that the company had no role in the study and its products were not used. No other conflicts of interest were reported.

Young Black athletes who suffered concussions while playing sports were quicker to return to school and less likely to adjust their daily routines than young White athletes, according to a new study on racial differences in concussion recovery.

“The findings from this study provide novel evidence that the recovery experience following sport-related concussion likely differs between Black and White athletes, and understanding these differences may serve to provide better and more personalized intervention and management strategies,” wrote lead author Aaron M. Yengo-Kahn, MD, of Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn. The study was published in the Journal of Neurosurgery: Pediatrics.

To assess how postconcussion experiences and recovery time differ among young White and Black athletes, the researchers launched a retrospective cohort study of youths between the ages of 12 and 23 from the middle Tennessee, northern Alabama, and southern Kentucky regions who had been treated for sport-related concussion. Using data from the Vanderbilt Sports Concussion Center’s outcome registry, they examined the records of 247 student-athletes, 211 of whom were White and 36 of whom were Black.

The majority of the athletes were male – 58% of the White group and 78% of the Black group – and their average age across groups was roughly 16 years. Thirty-three percent of the Black athletes were on public insurance, compared with just 6% of the White athletes, and 41% of the Black athletes lived in low–median income areas while 55% of the White athletes lived in areas with a high median income. Approximately 90% of each group played contact sports.

The median time to symptom resolution was 21 days (interquartile range, 10.5-61.0) for White athletes but just 12.3 days (IQR, 6.8-28.0) for Black athletes. Multivariable regression confirmed that Black athletes reached asymptomatic status sooner than White athletes (hazard ratio, 1.497; 95% confidence interval, 1.014-2.209; P = .042). “The observed shorter symptom resolution among the Black athletes may be explained by a complex interplay among race, concussion knowledge, attitudes toward sport-related concussion, reporting behavior, and sociodemographic disparities,” the authors noted.

The median time until returning to school post injury was 2 school days (IQR, 0-5) for White athletes and 0 school days (IQR, 0-2) for Black athletes. After multivariable analysis, being Black was indeed associated with returning to school sooner, compared with being White (HR, 1.522; 95% CI, 1.02-2,27; P = .040). Being Black was also associated with being less likely to a report a change in daily activity post concussion (odds ratio, 0.368; 95% CI, 0.136-0.996; P = .049).
 

Adding race to research

To make headway toward understanding race’s impact on concussion research, the authors proposed three immediate steps: Work directly with schools instead of clinics or emergency departments, match the diversity of study cohorts with the racial makeup of the surrounding community, and consider race as a covariate during study design.

“In our work with concussions, there is very little reported on race or racism or how racism affects how patients are navigating these spaces,” said coauthor Jessica Wallace, PhD, of the department of health science at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala., in an interview. “But we have so many athletes at the youth level, adolescent level, even the collegiate level; it’s such a diverse array of patients. We need to have data representative of all of our groups so that we know where we need to be intentional about reducing disparities and closing gaps.”

Dr. Wallace, who recently authored a study on the underreporting of concussions among Black and White high school athletes, emphasized the need for concussion research to be a true collaboration across disciplines.

“I approach this work from this public health and athletic training lens, whereas a lot of my collaborators are in neurosurgery and neurology,” she said. “Moving forward, we as a scientific clinical community have to do interdisciplinary work and be very intentional about how we go about closing these gaps. We have to recognize that there are differences in knowledge and in care, and they’re unacceptable, and we have to work collaboratively in providing resources to communities equitably to decrease them.”

The authors acknowledged their study’s limitations, including the retrospective nature of the study, using zip codes to determine median household income, and an unbalanced number of White and Black athletes. They did add, however, that the ratio of participants “generally aligns with census data in the surrounding metropolitan and county areas.” That said, they also surmised that the scarcity of Black athletes could indicate a deeper disparity in health care system usage and asked future researchers to “consider enrolling athletes directly from schools rather than from within the concussion clinic only.”

Dr. Yengo-Kahn disclosed holding a compensated position on the scientific advisory board of BlinkTBI, but the authors noted that the company had no role in the study and its products were not used. No other conflicts of interest were reported.

Atopic dermatitis (AD) is a complex disease with varying degrees of itch, pain, eczematous skin lesions and quality of life impact. Research over the past decade uncovered myriad associations of AD with comorbid health disorders. There are well-established associations of AD with atopic comorbidities in children and adults, including asthma, hay fever, food allergies and less commonly eosinophilic esophagitis. AD is also associated with higher rates of mental health disorders, including depression, anxiety and attention deficit (hyperactivity) disorder.

AD patients also have multiple risk factors for hypertension, including chronic sleep deprivation and limitations on physical activity from itch. Yousaf et al conducted a systematic literature review and meta-analysis of 19 studies and found significantly increased likelihood of hypertension in patients with AD compared to healthy controls, particularly moderate-to-severe AD. Though, the odds of hypertension were lower in patients with AD compared to psoriasis.

Sleep disturbances (SD) are also common in AD patients. Manjunath et al conducted a cross-sectional, dermatology practice-based study to examine clinical differences in geriatric vs younger adult AD patients. Geriatric age was not associated with any significant differences of AD severity. However, geriatric AD patients had significantly more nights of SD, particularly trouble staying asleep, and increased fatigue than younger adults. In general, having good sleep hygiene and getting adequate sleep are important for overall health and longevity. SD therefore warrant particular attention in clinical management of AD as they are often modifiable with improved AD control.

Likewise, the myriad comorbidities associated with AD may lead to poorer health outcomes, such as hospitalization. Edigin et al conducted a longitudinal study of 23,410 adults hospitalized in the United States with AD. Hospitalizations rates increased between 1998 and 2018 owing to comorbid health disorders, but not AD itself.

Together, these results highlight the importance of holistic management of AD patients, including atopic and non-atopic comorbidities. However, many questions remain about how and when to best screen for various comorbidities. Generally, more severe AD is one of the strongest predictors of atopic and mental health comorbidities, as well as sleep disturbances and hypertension as shown in the abovementioned studies. Additionally, geriatric AD patients warrant closer monitoring of SD. Of course, screening patients for these comorbidities can take up precious time in a busy clinical practice. Though, it is a worthwhile investment of time and will improve patients’ health outcomes and the quality of care you provide for patients.

Atopic dermatitis (AD) is a complex disease with varying degrees of itch, pain, eczematous skin lesions and quality of life impact. Research over the past decade uncovered myriad associations of AD with comorbid health disorders. There are well-established associations of AD with atopic comorbidities in children and adults, including asthma, hay fever, food allergies and less commonly eosinophilic esophagitis. AD is also associated with higher rates of mental health disorders, including depression, anxiety and attention deficit (hyperactivity) disorder.

AD patients also have multiple risk factors for hypertension, including chronic sleep deprivation and limitations on physical activity from itch. Yousaf et al conducted a systematic literature review and meta-analysis of 19 studies and found significantly increased likelihood of hypertension in patients with AD compared to healthy controls, particularly moderate-to-severe AD. Though, the odds of hypertension were lower in patients with AD compared to psoriasis.

Sleep disturbances (SD) are also common in AD patients. Manjunath et al conducted a cross-sectional, dermatology practice-based study to examine clinical differences in geriatric vs younger adult AD patients. Geriatric age was not associated with any significant differences of AD severity. However, geriatric AD patients had significantly more nights of SD, particularly trouble staying asleep, and increased fatigue than younger adults. In general, having good sleep hygiene and getting adequate sleep are important for overall health and longevity. SD therefore warrant particular attention in clinical management of AD as they are often modifiable with improved AD control.

Likewise, the myriad comorbidities associated with AD may lead to poorer health outcomes, such as hospitalization. Edigin et al conducted a longitudinal study of 23,410 adults hospitalized in the United States with AD. Hospitalizations rates increased between 1998 and 2018 owing to comorbid health disorders, but not AD itself.

Together, these results highlight the importance of holistic management of AD patients, including atopic and non-atopic comorbidities. However, many questions remain about how and when to best screen for various comorbidities. Generally, more severe AD is one of the strongest predictors of atopic and mental health comorbidities, as well as sleep disturbances and hypertension as shown in the abovementioned studies. Additionally, geriatric AD patients warrant closer monitoring of SD. Of course, screening patients for these comorbidities can take up precious time in a busy clinical practice. Though, it is a worthwhile investment of time and will improve patients’ health outcomes and the quality of care you provide for patients.

Atopic dermatitis (AD) is a complex disease with varying degrees of itch, pain, eczematous skin lesions and quality of life impact. Research over the past decade uncovered myriad associations of AD with comorbid health disorders. There are well-established associations of AD with atopic comorbidities in children and adults, including asthma, hay fever, food allergies and less commonly eosinophilic esophagitis. AD is also associated with higher rates of mental health disorders, including depression, anxiety and attention deficit (hyperactivity) disorder.

AD patients also have multiple risk factors for hypertension, including chronic sleep deprivation and limitations on physical activity from itch. Yousaf et al conducted a systematic literature review and meta-analysis of 19 studies and found significantly increased likelihood of hypertension in patients with AD compared to healthy controls, particularly moderate-to-severe AD. Though, the odds of hypertension were lower in patients with AD compared to psoriasis.

Sleep disturbances (SD) are also common in AD patients. Manjunath et al conducted a cross-sectional, dermatology practice-based study to examine clinical differences in geriatric vs younger adult AD patients. Geriatric age was not associated with any significant differences of AD severity. However, geriatric AD patients had significantly more nights of SD, particularly trouble staying asleep, and increased fatigue than younger adults. In general, having good sleep hygiene and getting adequate sleep are important for overall health and longevity. SD therefore warrant particular attention in clinical management of AD as they are often modifiable with improved AD control.

Likewise, the myriad comorbidities associated with AD may lead to poorer health outcomes, such as hospitalization. Edigin et al conducted a longitudinal study of 23,410 adults hospitalized in the United States with AD. Hospitalizations rates increased between 1998 and 2018 owing to comorbid health disorders, but not AD itself.

Together, these results highlight the importance of holistic management of AD patients, including atopic and non-atopic comorbidities. However, many questions remain about how and when to best screen for various comorbidities. Generally, more severe AD is one of the strongest predictors of atopic and mental health comorbidities, as well as sleep disturbances and hypertension as shown in the abovementioned studies. Additionally, geriatric AD patients warrant closer monitoring of SD. Of course, screening patients for these comorbidities can take up precious time in a busy clinical practice. Though, it is a worthwhile investment of time and will improve patients’ health outcomes and the quality of care you provide for patients.

Key clinical point: Almost a fifth of patients with atopic dermatitis (AD) receiving topical therapy had an uncontrolled disease and reported impairment in work productivity along with a lower quality of life (QoL).

Major finding: Overall, physicians identified 24.5% of patients as having uncontrolled disease. Patients with uncontrolled vs controlled disease had higher impairment in QoL (Dermatology Life Quality Index, 8.8 vs 6.0; P = .0003) and work productivity (Work Productivity and Activity Impairment, 23.5 vs 16.2; P = .0488).

Study details: Findings are from a retrospective, point-in-time study including 394 adults and 144 adolescent patients with moderate-to-severe AD who received topical therapy for at least 1 month.

Disclosures: This study was funded by Incyte Corporation. JH Lofland and VN Joish declared being employees and shareholders of Incyte Corporation. Three of the other authors declared being employees of Adelphi Real World.

Source: Anderson P et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 15. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00580-2.

Key clinical point: Almost a fifth of patients with atopic dermatitis (AD) receiving topical therapy had an uncontrolled disease and reported impairment in work productivity along with a lower quality of life (QoL).

Major finding: Overall, physicians identified 24.5% of patients as having uncontrolled disease. Patients with uncontrolled vs controlled disease had higher impairment in QoL (Dermatology Life Quality Index, 8.8 vs 6.0; P = .0003) and work productivity (Work Productivity and Activity Impairment, 23.5 vs 16.2; P = .0488).

Study details: Findings are from a retrospective, point-in-time study including 394 adults and 144 adolescent patients with moderate-to-severe AD who received topical therapy for at least 1 month.

Disclosures: This study was funded by Incyte Corporation. JH Lofland and VN Joish declared being employees and shareholders of Incyte Corporation. Three of the other authors declared being employees of Adelphi Real World.

Source: Anderson P et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 15. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00580-2.

Key clinical point: Almost a fifth of patients with atopic dermatitis (AD) receiving topical therapy had an uncontrolled disease and reported impairment in work productivity along with a lower quality of life (QoL).

Major finding: Overall, physicians identified 24.5% of patients as having uncontrolled disease. Patients with uncontrolled vs controlled disease had higher impairment in QoL (Dermatology Life Quality Index, 8.8 vs 6.0; P = .0003) and work productivity (Work Productivity and Activity Impairment, 23.5 vs 16.2; P = .0488).

Study details: Findings are from a retrospective, point-in-time study including 394 adults and 144 adolescent patients with moderate-to-severe AD who received topical therapy for at least 1 month.

Disclosures: This study was funded by Incyte Corporation. JH Lofland and VN Joish declared being employees and shareholders of Incyte Corporation. Three of the other authors declared being employees of Adelphi Real World.

Source: Anderson P et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 15. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00580-2.

Key clinical point: Baricitinib monotherapy improved clinically burdensome symptom of skin pain on the first day itself after the first dose in patients with moderate-to-severe atopic dermatitis (AD).

Major finding: By day 2, skin pain numerical rating scale scores changed significantly from baseline with baricitinib vs placebo in BREEZE-AD1 (baricitinib 4 mg, −11.9%; 2 mg, −6.4%; 1 mg, −6.2%; all P less than .05), BREEZE-AD2 (baricitinib 4 mg, −12.6%; 2 mg, −5.6%; 1 mg, −6.9%; all P less than .05), and BREEZE-AD7 (baricitinib 4 mg, −6.9%; 2 mg, −7.9%; both P less than .05).

Study details: Findings are from an analysis of 3 phase 3 trials (BREEZE-AD1, BREEZE-AD2, and BREEZE-AD7) including 1,568 patients with moderate-to-severe AD with inadequate response to existing topical therapies who were randomly assigned to baricitinib or placebo with or without topical corticosteroids.

Disclosures: This work was funded by Eli Lilly and Company. Some of the authors declared receiving grants, honoraria, consulting, and/or lecturing fees from and/or serving as advisory board member, speaker, and/or investigator for various sources including Eli Lilly. Two authors declared being employees and shareholders of Eli Lilly.

Source: Thyssen JP et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 18. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00577-x.

Key clinical point: Baricitinib monotherapy improved clinically burdensome symptom of skin pain on the first day itself after the first dose in patients with moderate-to-severe atopic dermatitis (AD).

Major finding: By day 2, skin pain numerical rating scale scores changed significantly from baseline with baricitinib vs placebo in BREEZE-AD1 (baricitinib 4 mg, −11.9%; 2 mg, −6.4%; 1 mg, −6.2%; all P less than .05), BREEZE-AD2 (baricitinib 4 mg, −12.6%; 2 mg, −5.6%; 1 mg, −6.9%; all P less than .05), and BREEZE-AD7 (baricitinib 4 mg, −6.9%; 2 mg, −7.9%; both P less than .05).

Study details: Findings are from an analysis of 3 phase 3 trials (BREEZE-AD1, BREEZE-AD2, and BREEZE-AD7) including 1,568 patients with moderate-to-severe AD with inadequate response to existing topical therapies who were randomly assigned to baricitinib or placebo with or without topical corticosteroids.

Disclosures: This work was funded by Eli Lilly and Company. Some of the authors declared receiving grants, honoraria, consulting, and/or lecturing fees from and/or serving as advisory board member, speaker, and/or investigator for various sources including Eli Lilly. Two authors declared being employees and shareholders of Eli Lilly.

Source: Thyssen JP et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 18. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00577-x.

Key clinical point: Baricitinib monotherapy improved clinically burdensome symptom of skin pain on the first day itself after the first dose in patients with moderate-to-severe atopic dermatitis (AD).

Major finding: By day 2, skin pain numerical rating scale scores changed significantly from baseline with baricitinib vs placebo in BREEZE-AD1 (baricitinib 4 mg, −11.9%; 2 mg, −6.4%; 1 mg, −6.2%; all P less than .05), BREEZE-AD2 (baricitinib 4 mg, −12.6%; 2 mg, −5.6%; 1 mg, −6.9%; all P less than .05), and BREEZE-AD7 (baricitinib 4 mg, −6.9%; 2 mg, −7.9%; both P less than .05).

Study details: Findings are from an analysis of 3 phase 3 trials (BREEZE-AD1, BREEZE-AD2, and BREEZE-AD7) including 1,568 patients with moderate-to-severe AD with inadequate response to existing topical therapies who were randomly assigned to baricitinib or placebo with or without topical corticosteroids.

Disclosures: This work was funded by Eli Lilly and Company. Some of the authors declared receiving grants, honoraria, consulting, and/or lecturing fees from and/or serving as advisory board member, speaker, and/or investigator for various sources including Eli Lilly. Two authors declared being employees and shareholders of Eli Lilly.

Source: Thyssen JP et al. Dermatol Ther (Heidelb). 2021 Jul 18. doi: 10.1007/s13555-021-00577-x.