MDedge ObGyn

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

Rachel S. Rubin, MD: I have an interesting topic for you — kind of shocking, actually. Some of you may have read a story earlier this year in The New York Times about the alarming rise among young people of choking or strangulation during sex. I spoke recently with Dr. Debby Herbenick about this concerning and violent trend. Dr. Herbenick is a well-known sexuality researcher and professor at the Indiana University School of Public Health. Welcome, Dr. Herbenick. Can you tell us about your research into this new trend?

Debby Herbenick, PhD: This is some of the most important research that I’ve done. I’ve been studying sexual behaviors and trends for about 14 years in terms of nationally representative studies that we do. Over time, we noticed a trend of increasing prevalence of rough sex practices. 

Now, there’s always been a lot of sexual diversity in the world throughout history. But the main trend that we have focused on in recent years that is important for everyone in medicine to know about is this rapid increase — actually, a really big increase — in what people call “sexual choking,” even though it’s a form of strangulation. The increase is mostly seen in teenagers and young adults. 

We’ve done US nationally representative surveys as well as college campus representative surveys. We find that consistently across four campus representative surveys that 64% of women report having ever been choked during sex, and around 1 in 3 women (aged 18-24 years) throughout the whole country report having been choked during their most recent sexual activity with another person. They call it choking, but because it involves usually one hand — sometimes two hands or a forearm or an object, like a belt or a cord to tie around the neck — it is technically strangulation, because it’s external pressure to the neck to reduce or stop airflow or blood flow. 

Dr. Rubin: These numbers are staggering, right? Everyone listening now is taking care of someone who has been strangled as a form of sexual pleasure. What does this mean from a safety perspective? And as doctors who are working these patients up for migraines and other health problems, what is the research showing? 

Dr. Herbenick: We certainly are seeing people report recurrent headaches and ringing in the ears. There are things we’ve just barely scratched the surface on. Those of us working in this space believe that for anybody coming in for an unexplained stroke (for example, under age 50), you might consider some imaging to see if they have a dissection. We are hearing about people who, when you really probe to find out whether they’ve had pressure on the neck, they report that indeed that they have. So, we have to be thinking about neurologic symptoms. We know that they’re experiencing these at a pretty high rate. 

For people who are engaging in these practices, they should know about the health risks, but we find that most don’t. They may have heard that if it’s really intense high pressure, that in rare cases people can die, but most have never heard of anything in between. So, they’re not necessarily connecting their voice hoarseness, or the recurrent headaches or the sensitivity to light they are having, to an experience of being choked. We need to be paying attention to neurologic symptoms. 

Most physicians I speak with at conferences say that where they feel like they can step into this conversation is through anticipatory guidance and letting their patients know that they may have heard about this trend, and a lot of people are talking about the health consequences, and I want to share some information with you — not coming at it from a place of shame or judgment, but providing some information so that [patients] actually get some medical facts about this that could be lifesaving. 

Dr. Rubin: I see such a big gap in my medical training. I was taught to say, “Hey, do you smoke, do you drink, do you do drugs? Do you have sex? Men, women, or both?”And that’s it. And then maybe use birth control, and don’t get an STD, thinking about herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. We weren’t really trained to talk to patients about what kind of sex they are having, or how to talk to patients in a way that is open-minded but also safety-conscious and how the concept of safe sex is more than wear a condom and use birth control.

This idea of rough sex practices and how to talk to teenagers — maybe our pediatricians should be talking about this. Where do we start in terms of how to bring up these conversations and with what level of detail? 

Dr. Herbenick: We find that some young people are already being asked about some of the effects that might be showing on their bodies. It might be that their provider notices some bruising, or marks on their bodies from other types of rough sex practices like hitting and spanking. So that could be an entry point there. Choking is far more prevalent than slapping, so if you’re seeing some marks on the body, then it’s also a good time to ask about other practices they might be engaging in, especially higher risk ones like choking or strangulation. It’s offering some information and even saying, “Look, I’m not here to shame or judge you. I just want you to have some information about this” and giving them an opportunity to ask questions, too. 

We have found that almost nobody talks with their nurse or doctor, even if they have symptoms after being choked or strangled during sex. Just 1% of women with choking-related symptoms, 7% of men, and far fewer trans and nonbinary young people report talking with a nurse or doctor, mostly because they say it doesn’t seem like a big deal. The symptoms got better quickly. Sometimes they’re afraid of being shamed for their sexual behavior, and that’s why they say they don’t talk with somebody. 

They need some type of open-door anticipatory guidance as a way forward. Not everyone is comfortable directly asking whether a patient is engaging in this, but at least letting people know that you’ve heard of this behavior and providing some medical facts can give us a step forward with creating these conversations. 

Dr. Rubin: Can you tell us where is this research going in terms of next steps? Other things that you’re looking at? And what are you excited about? 

Dr. Herbenick: I’m excited about some work I did with a collaborator and colleague of mine, Dr. Keisuke Kawata, that he led a couple of years ago. He’s a neuroscientist. We were looking at potential cumulative effects on the brain. Now we’re taking some of that research into its next steps. We’re also doing more focused studies on other health consequences and hopefully finding out how we can test different educational messages and get people to learn more fact-based information about this, and then see if that is effective in prevention. 

Dr. Rubin: It sounds like a public health campaign is really needed about how to get the word out there about the health consequences of these activities. We’re asking people often enough. In my clinic, I try to keep it open-ended — tell me what sex looks like. What does it look like, and what do you want it to look like? Because I see a lot of people with problems, but if they don’t bring it to me, I don’t necessarily bring it up to them. Until I heard your lecture, and I thought, oh my gosh, I’m not even asking the right questions. Are you hopeful that there will be more public health messaging out there? 

Dr. Herbenick: I am. Years ago, when the child and adolescent choking game became a thing, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) issued reports about it and warnings to parents. And this is a far, far higher prevalence than that ever was. So, I would love to see organizations like the CDC and medical groups getting involved and educating their members and making statements. This is really impacting a huge generation of girls and women, because when it happens during sex between women and men, the choking is mostly happening to the girls and women. It’s also prevalent among sexual minority individuals. But we are talking about this whole generation of young women and what’s happening to their bodies and their brain health. We really need to step into this conversation. 

Dr. Rubin: Very few of us are sexual medicine–trained physicians, and very few of us feel confident and comfortable talking about sexual health issues. But people are getting hurt. People are having real consequences of these behaviors because of our lack of education, knowledge, and even discussion around it. So thank you for doing this research, because had you not done this research, we wouldn’t have found out that 64% of people are engaging in these types of activities. That is not rare.

Dr. Rubin is an assistant clinical professor, Department of Urology, at Georgetown University, Washington. She reported conflicts of interest with Sprout, Maternal Medical, Absorption Pharmaceuticals, GSK, and Endo.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

Rachel S. Rubin, MD: I have an interesting topic for you — kind of shocking, actually. Some of you may have read a story earlier this year in The New York Times about the alarming rise among young people of choking or strangulation during sex. I spoke recently with Dr. Debby Herbenick about this concerning and violent trend. Dr. Herbenick is a well-known sexuality researcher and professor at the Indiana University School of Public Health. Welcome, Dr. Herbenick. Can you tell us about your research into this new trend?

Debby Herbenick, PhD: This is some of the most important research that I’ve done. I’ve been studying sexual behaviors and trends for about 14 years in terms of nationally representative studies that we do. Over time, we noticed a trend of increasing prevalence of rough sex practices. 

Now, there’s always been a lot of sexual diversity in the world throughout history. But the main trend that we have focused on in recent years that is important for everyone in medicine to know about is this rapid increase — actually, a really big increase — in what people call “sexual choking,” even though it’s a form of strangulation. The increase is mostly seen in teenagers and young adults. 

We’ve done US nationally representative surveys as well as college campus representative surveys. We find that consistently across four campus representative surveys that 64% of women report having ever been choked during sex, and around 1 in 3 women (aged 18-24 years) throughout the whole country report having been choked during their most recent sexual activity with another person. They call it choking, but because it involves usually one hand — sometimes two hands or a forearm or an object, like a belt or a cord to tie around the neck — it is technically strangulation, because it’s external pressure to the neck to reduce or stop airflow or blood flow. 

Dr. Rubin: These numbers are staggering, right? Everyone listening now is taking care of someone who has been strangled as a form of sexual pleasure. What does this mean from a safety perspective? And as doctors who are working these patients up for migraines and other health problems, what is the research showing? 

Dr. Herbenick: We certainly are seeing people report recurrent headaches and ringing in the ears. There are things we’ve just barely scratched the surface on. Those of us working in this space believe that for anybody coming in for an unexplained stroke (for example, under age 50), you might consider some imaging to see if they have a dissection. We are hearing about people who, when you really probe to find out whether they’ve had pressure on the neck, they report that indeed that they have. So, we have to be thinking about neurologic symptoms. We know that they’re experiencing these at a pretty high rate. 

For people who are engaging in these practices, they should know about the health risks, but we find that most don’t. They may have heard that if it’s really intense high pressure, that in rare cases people can die, but most have never heard of anything in between. So, they’re not necessarily connecting their voice hoarseness, or the recurrent headaches or the sensitivity to light they are having, to an experience of being choked. We need to be paying attention to neurologic symptoms. 

Most physicians I speak with at conferences say that where they feel like they can step into this conversation is through anticipatory guidance and letting their patients know that they may have heard about this trend, and a lot of people are talking about the health consequences, and I want to share some information with you — not coming at it from a place of shame or judgment, but providing some information so that [patients] actually get some medical facts about this that could be lifesaving. 

Dr. Rubin: I see such a big gap in my medical training. I was taught to say, “Hey, do you smoke, do you drink, do you do drugs? Do you have sex? Men, women, or both?”And that’s it. And then maybe use birth control, and don’t get an STD, thinking about herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. We weren’t really trained to talk to patients about what kind of sex they are having, or how to talk to patients in a way that is open-minded but also safety-conscious and how the concept of safe sex is more than wear a condom and use birth control.

This idea of rough sex practices and how to talk to teenagers — maybe our pediatricians should be talking about this. Where do we start in terms of how to bring up these conversations and with what level of detail? 

Dr. Herbenick: We find that some young people are already being asked about some of the effects that might be showing on their bodies. It might be that their provider notices some bruising, or marks on their bodies from other types of rough sex practices like hitting and spanking. So that could be an entry point there. Choking is far more prevalent than slapping, so if you’re seeing some marks on the body, then it’s also a good time to ask about other practices they might be engaging in, especially higher risk ones like choking or strangulation. It’s offering some information and even saying, “Look, I’m not here to shame or judge you. I just want you to have some information about this” and giving them an opportunity to ask questions, too. 

We have found that almost nobody talks with their nurse or doctor, even if they have symptoms after being choked or strangled during sex. Just 1% of women with choking-related symptoms, 7% of men, and far fewer trans and nonbinary young people report talking with a nurse or doctor, mostly because they say it doesn’t seem like a big deal. The symptoms got better quickly. Sometimes they’re afraid of being shamed for their sexual behavior, and that’s why they say they don’t talk with somebody. 

They need some type of open-door anticipatory guidance as a way forward. Not everyone is comfortable directly asking whether a patient is engaging in this, but at least letting people know that you’ve heard of this behavior and providing some medical facts can give us a step forward with creating these conversations. 

Dr. Rubin: Can you tell us where is this research going in terms of next steps? Other things that you’re looking at? And what are you excited about? 

Dr. Herbenick: I’m excited about some work I did with a collaborator and colleague of mine, Dr. Keisuke Kawata, that he led a couple of years ago. He’s a neuroscientist. We were looking at potential cumulative effects on the brain. Now we’re taking some of that research into its next steps. We’re also doing more focused studies on other health consequences and hopefully finding out how we can test different educational messages and get people to learn more fact-based information about this, and then see if that is effective in prevention. 

Dr. Rubin: It sounds like a public health campaign is really needed about how to get the word out there about the health consequences of these activities. We’re asking people often enough. In my clinic, I try to keep it open-ended — tell me what sex looks like. What does it look like, and what do you want it to look like? Because I see a lot of people with problems, but if they don’t bring it to me, I don’t necessarily bring it up to them. Until I heard your lecture, and I thought, oh my gosh, I’m not even asking the right questions. Are you hopeful that there will be more public health messaging out there? 

Dr. Herbenick: I am. Years ago, when the child and adolescent choking game became a thing, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) issued reports about it and warnings to parents. And this is a far, far higher prevalence than that ever was. So, I would love to see organizations like the CDC and medical groups getting involved and educating their members and making statements. This is really impacting a huge generation of girls and women, because when it happens during sex between women and men, the choking is mostly happening to the girls and women. It’s also prevalent among sexual minority individuals. But we are talking about this whole generation of young women and what’s happening to their bodies and their brain health. We really need to step into this conversation. 

Dr. Rubin: Very few of us are sexual medicine–trained physicians, and very few of us feel confident and comfortable talking about sexual health issues. But people are getting hurt. People are having real consequences of these behaviors because of our lack of education, knowledge, and even discussion around it. So thank you for doing this research, because had you not done this research, we wouldn’t have found out that 64% of people are engaging in these types of activities. That is not rare.

Dr. Rubin is an assistant clinical professor, Department of Urology, at Georgetown University, Washington. She reported conflicts of interest with Sprout, Maternal Medical, Absorption Pharmaceuticals, GSK, and Endo.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity. 

Rachel S. Rubin, MD: I have an interesting topic for you — kind of shocking, actually. Some of you may have read a story earlier this year in The New York Times about the alarming rise among young people of choking or strangulation during sex. I spoke recently with Dr. Debby Herbenick about this concerning and violent trend. Dr. Herbenick is a well-known sexuality researcher and professor at the Indiana University School of Public Health. Welcome, Dr. Herbenick. Can you tell us about your research into this new trend?

Debby Herbenick, PhD: This is some of the most important research that I’ve done. I’ve been studying sexual behaviors and trends for about 14 years in terms of nationally representative studies that we do. Over time, we noticed a trend of increasing prevalence of rough sex practices. 

Now, there’s always been a lot of sexual diversity in the world throughout history. But the main trend that we have focused on in recent years that is important for everyone in medicine to know about is this rapid increase — actually, a really big increase — in what people call “sexual choking,” even though it’s a form of strangulation. The increase is mostly seen in teenagers and young adults. 

We’ve done US nationally representative surveys as well as college campus representative surveys. We find that consistently across four campus representative surveys that 64% of women report having ever been choked during sex, and around 1 in 3 women (aged 18-24 years) throughout the whole country report having been choked during their most recent sexual activity with another person. They call it choking, but because it involves usually one hand — sometimes two hands or a forearm or an object, like a belt or a cord to tie around the neck — it is technically strangulation, because it’s external pressure to the neck to reduce or stop airflow or blood flow. 

Dr. Rubin: These numbers are staggering, right? Everyone listening now is taking care of someone who has been strangled as a form of sexual pleasure. What does this mean from a safety perspective? And as doctors who are working these patients up for migraines and other health problems, what is the research showing? 

Dr. Herbenick: We certainly are seeing people report recurrent headaches and ringing in the ears. There are things we’ve just barely scratched the surface on. Those of us working in this space believe that for anybody coming in for an unexplained stroke (for example, under age 50), you might consider some imaging to see if they have a dissection. We are hearing about people who, when you really probe to find out whether they’ve had pressure on the neck, they report that indeed that they have. So, we have to be thinking about neurologic symptoms. We know that they’re experiencing these at a pretty high rate. 

For people who are engaging in these practices, they should know about the health risks, but we find that most don’t. They may have heard that if it’s really intense high pressure, that in rare cases people can die, but most have never heard of anything in between. So, they’re not necessarily connecting their voice hoarseness, or the recurrent headaches or the sensitivity to light they are having, to an experience of being choked. We need to be paying attention to neurologic symptoms. 

Most physicians I speak with at conferences say that where they feel like they can step into this conversation is through anticipatory guidance and letting their patients know that they may have heard about this trend, and a lot of people are talking about the health consequences, and I want to share some information with you — not coming at it from a place of shame or judgment, but providing some information so that [patients] actually get some medical facts about this that could be lifesaving. 

Dr. Rubin: I see such a big gap in my medical training. I was taught to say, “Hey, do you smoke, do you drink, do you do drugs? Do you have sex? Men, women, or both?”And that’s it. And then maybe use birth control, and don’t get an STD, thinking about herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. We weren’t really trained to talk to patients about what kind of sex they are having, or how to talk to patients in a way that is open-minded but also safety-conscious and how the concept of safe sex is more than wear a condom and use birth control.

This idea of rough sex practices and how to talk to teenagers — maybe our pediatricians should be talking about this. Where do we start in terms of how to bring up these conversations and with what level of detail? 

Dr. Herbenick: We find that some young people are already being asked about some of the effects that might be showing on their bodies. It might be that their provider notices some bruising, or marks on their bodies from other types of rough sex practices like hitting and spanking. So that could be an entry point there. Choking is far more prevalent than slapping, so if you’re seeing some marks on the body, then it’s also a good time to ask about other practices they might be engaging in, especially higher risk ones like choking or strangulation. It’s offering some information and even saying, “Look, I’m not here to shame or judge you. I just want you to have some information about this” and giving them an opportunity to ask questions, too. 

We have found that almost nobody talks with their nurse or doctor, even if they have symptoms after being choked or strangled during sex. Just 1% of women with choking-related symptoms, 7% of men, and far fewer trans and nonbinary young people report talking with a nurse or doctor, mostly because they say it doesn’t seem like a big deal. The symptoms got better quickly. Sometimes they’re afraid of being shamed for their sexual behavior, and that’s why they say they don’t talk with somebody. 

They need some type of open-door anticipatory guidance as a way forward. Not everyone is comfortable directly asking whether a patient is engaging in this, but at least letting people know that you’ve heard of this behavior and providing some medical facts can give us a step forward with creating these conversations. 

Dr. Rubin: Can you tell us where is this research going in terms of next steps? Other things that you’re looking at? And what are you excited about? 

Dr. Herbenick: I’m excited about some work I did with a collaborator and colleague of mine, Dr. Keisuke Kawata, that he led a couple of years ago. He’s a neuroscientist. We were looking at potential cumulative effects on the brain. Now we’re taking some of that research into its next steps. We’re also doing more focused studies on other health consequences and hopefully finding out how we can test different educational messages and get people to learn more fact-based information about this, and then see if that is effective in prevention. 

Dr. Rubin: It sounds like a public health campaign is really needed about how to get the word out there about the health consequences of these activities. We’re asking people often enough. In my clinic, I try to keep it open-ended — tell me what sex looks like. What does it look like, and what do you want it to look like? Because I see a lot of people with problems, but if they don’t bring it to me, I don’t necessarily bring it up to them. Until I heard your lecture, and I thought, oh my gosh, I’m not even asking the right questions. Are you hopeful that there will be more public health messaging out there? 

Dr. Herbenick: I am. Years ago, when the child and adolescent choking game became a thing, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) issued reports about it and warnings to parents. And this is a far, far higher prevalence than that ever was. So, I would love to see organizations like the CDC and medical groups getting involved and educating their members and making statements. This is really impacting a huge generation of girls and women, because when it happens during sex between women and men, the choking is mostly happening to the girls and women. It’s also prevalent among sexual minority individuals. But we are talking about this whole generation of young women and what’s happening to their bodies and their brain health. We really need to step into this conversation. 

Dr. Rubin: Very few of us are sexual medicine–trained physicians, and very few of us feel confident and comfortable talking about sexual health issues. But people are getting hurt. People are having real consequences of these behaviors because of our lack of education, knowledge, and even discussion around it. So thank you for doing this research, because had you not done this research, we wouldn’t have found out that 64% of people are engaging in these types of activities. That is not rare.

Dr. Rubin is an assistant clinical professor, Department of Urology, at Georgetown University, Washington. She reported conflicts of interest with Sprout, Maternal Medical, Absorption Pharmaceuticals, GSK, and Endo.

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

TOPLINE:

The transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy is unreliable for diagnosing endometrial cancer in high-risk Black women, with a significant risk for false-negative results at different endometrial thickness thresholds.

METHODOLOGY:

• Poor performance of transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness as a diagnostic triage strategy for endometrial cancer may contribute to racial disparity in stage at diagnosis between Black and White women.
• Researchers assessed the false-negative probability using transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness thresholds as triage for endometrial cancer in 1494 Black women (median age, 46 years) who underwent hysterectomy.
• The researchers focused on endometrial thickness measurements recorded within 24 months before hysterectomy, as well as demographic and clinical data.
• The endometrial thickness thresholds were defined as < 3 mm, < 4 mm, and < 5 mm, with the rest grouped as ≥ 5 mm, consistent with guidelines.
• A total of 210 women had endometrial cancer. The most common presenting symptoms were fibroids (78%), vaginal bleeding (71%), and pelvic pain (57%).

TAKEAWAY:

• Twenty-four cases of endometrial cancer were below the 5-mm endometrial thickness threshold that would trigger biopsy, resulting overall in 11.4% of endometrial cancer cases potentially missed.
• The false-negative probability was 9.5% (20 cases) at the < 4-mm threshold and 3.8% (8 cases) at the < 3-mm threshold.
• Classic risk factors for endometrial cancer (postmenopausal bleeding, age ≥ 50 years, and BMI > 40) did not result in improved performance of the endometrial thickness triage strategy.
• False-negative probability was also similar among those with fibroids (12%) but higher in the setting of partial endometrial thickness visibility (26%) and pelvic pain (15%).

IN PRACTICE:

This study reveals a “concerning error rate for a triage strategy that would terminate further workup and provide false reassurance to both patients and physicians.” The results contribute to “an increasing body of work questioning the wisdom of the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage strategy. It may be the case that the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage for endometrial biopsy is no longer a preferred strategy in the setting of increasing endometrial cancer rates for all. For Black patients with concerning symptoms, tissue biopsy is recommended to avoid misdiagnosis of endometrial cancer,” the researchers concluded.

SOURCE:

The study, with first author Kemi M. Doll, MD, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, University of Washington, Seattle, was published online in JAMA Oncology.

LIMITATIONS:

The study did not include cases where transvaginal ultrasonography reports omitted endometrial thickness measurements or reported nonvisible endometrial thickness, possibly underestimating the failure rate of the transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy.

The sample did not include endometrial cancer cases that were not treated with hysterectomy, which may occur in young women with grade 1 endometrial cancer, those medically incapable of undergoing surgery, and those with disease so advanced that surgery is no longer an option. 
 

DISCLOSURES:

Funding was provided by Kuni Discovery Grants for Cancer Research: Advancing Innovation and by a grant from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Doll reported receiving investigator-initiated research grants from the Patient Centered Outcomes Research Institute, American Association of Cancer Research, and Merck.

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

TOPLINE:

The transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy is unreliable for diagnosing endometrial cancer in high-risk Black women, with a significant risk for false-negative results at different endometrial thickness thresholds.

METHODOLOGY:

• Poor performance of transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness as a diagnostic triage strategy for endometrial cancer may contribute to racial disparity in stage at diagnosis between Black and White women.
• Researchers assessed the false-negative probability using transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness thresholds as triage for endometrial cancer in 1494 Black women (median age, 46 years) who underwent hysterectomy.
• The researchers focused on endometrial thickness measurements recorded within 24 months before hysterectomy, as well as demographic and clinical data.
• The endometrial thickness thresholds were defined as < 3 mm, < 4 mm, and < 5 mm, with the rest grouped as ≥ 5 mm, consistent with guidelines.
• A total of 210 women had endometrial cancer. The most common presenting symptoms were fibroids (78%), vaginal bleeding (71%), and pelvic pain (57%).

TAKEAWAY:

• Twenty-four cases of endometrial cancer were below the 5-mm endometrial thickness threshold that would trigger biopsy, resulting overall in 11.4% of endometrial cancer cases potentially missed.
• The false-negative probability was 9.5% (20 cases) at the < 4-mm threshold and 3.8% (8 cases) at the < 3-mm threshold.
• Classic risk factors for endometrial cancer (postmenopausal bleeding, age ≥ 50 years, and BMI > 40) did not result in improved performance of the endometrial thickness triage strategy.
• False-negative probability was also similar among those with fibroids (12%) but higher in the setting of partial endometrial thickness visibility (26%) and pelvic pain (15%).

IN PRACTICE:

This study reveals a “concerning error rate for a triage strategy that would terminate further workup and provide false reassurance to both patients and physicians.” The results contribute to “an increasing body of work questioning the wisdom of the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage strategy. It may be the case that the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage for endometrial biopsy is no longer a preferred strategy in the setting of increasing endometrial cancer rates for all. For Black patients with concerning symptoms, tissue biopsy is recommended to avoid misdiagnosis of endometrial cancer,” the researchers concluded.

SOURCE:

The study, with first author Kemi M. Doll, MD, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, University of Washington, Seattle, was published online in JAMA Oncology.

LIMITATIONS:

The study did not include cases where transvaginal ultrasonography reports omitted endometrial thickness measurements or reported nonvisible endometrial thickness, possibly underestimating the failure rate of the transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy.

The sample did not include endometrial cancer cases that were not treated with hysterectomy, which may occur in young women with grade 1 endometrial cancer, those medically incapable of undergoing surgery, and those with disease so advanced that surgery is no longer an option. 
 

DISCLOSURES:

Funding was provided by Kuni Discovery Grants for Cancer Research: Advancing Innovation and by a grant from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Doll reported receiving investigator-initiated research grants from the Patient Centered Outcomes Research Institute, American Association of Cancer Research, and Merck.

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

TOPLINE:

The transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy is unreliable for diagnosing endometrial cancer in high-risk Black women, with a significant risk for false-negative results at different endometrial thickness thresholds.

METHODOLOGY:

• Poor performance of transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness as a diagnostic triage strategy for endometrial cancer may contribute to racial disparity in stage at diagnosis between Black and White women.
• Researchers assessed the false-negative probability using transvaginal ultrasonography-measured endometrial thickness thresholds as triage for endometrial cancer in 1494 Black women (median age, 46 years) who underwent hysterectomy.
• The researchers focused on endometrial thickness measurements recorded within 24 months before hysterectomy, as well as demographic and clinical data.
• The endometrial thickness thresholds were defined as < 3 mm, < 4 mm, and < 5 mm, with the rest grouped as ≥ 5 mm, consistent with guidelines.
• A total of 210 women had endometrial cancer. The most common presenting symptoms were fibroids (78%), vaginal bleeding (71%), and pelvic pain (57%).

TAKEAWAY:

• Twenty-four cases of endometrial cancer were below the 5-mm endometrial thickness threshold that would trigger biopsy, resulting overall in 11.4% of endometrial cancer cases potentially missed.
• The false-negative probability was 9.5% (20 cases) at the < 4-mm threshold and 3.8% (8 cases) at the < 3-mm threshold.
• Classic risk factors for endometrial cancer (postmenopausal bleeding, age ≥ 50 years, and BMI > 40) did not result in improved performance of the endometrial thickness triage strategy.
• False-negative probability was also similar among those with fibroids (12%) but higher in the setting of partial endometrial thickness visibility (26%) and pelvic pain (15%).

IN PRACTICE:

This study reveals a “concerning error rate for a triage strategy that would terminate further workup and provide false reassurance to both patients and physicians.” The results contribute to “an increasing body of work questioning the wisdom of the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage strategy. It may be the case that the (transvaginal ultrasonography) triage for endometrial biopsy is no longer a preferred strategy in the setting of increasing endometrial cancer rates for all. For Black patients with concerning symptoms, tissue biopsy is recommended to avoid misdiagnosis of endometrial cancer,” the researchers concluded.

SOURCE:

The study, with first author Kemi M. Doll, MD, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, University of Washington, Seattle, was published online in JAMA Oncology.

LIMITATIONS:

The study did not include cases where transvaginal ultrasonography reports omitted endometrial thickness measurements or reported nonvisible endometrial thickness, possibly underestimating the failure rate of the transvaginal ultrasonography triage strategy.

The sample did not include endometrial cancer cases that were not treated with hysterectomy, which may occur in young women with grade 1 endometrial cancer, those medically incapable of undergoing surgery, and those with disease so advanced that surgery is no longer an option. 
 

DISCLOSURES:

Funding was provided by Kuni Discovery Grants for Cancer Research: Advancing Innovation and by a grant from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Doll reported receiving investigator-initiated research grants from the Patient Centered Outcomes Research Institute, American Association of Cancer Research, and Merck.

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

Three-quarters of oncologists participating in a recent global survey failed to identify one or more situations representing a conflict of interest, according to a new study.

The findings reflect limited awareness in low-income countries about what scenarios constitute a conflict of interest, first author, Khalid El Bairi, MD, said during an interview. “There is a lack of training in ethics and integrity in medical schools [in countries in Africa], so people are not informed about conflicts of interest,” continued Dr. El Bairi, who presented the new research at the annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology. “There is also a lack of policies in universities and hospitals to guide clinicians about conflict of interest reporting.”

Overall, 58.5% of survey participants categorized honoraria as a conflict of interest that required disclosure, while 50% said the same of gifts from pharmaceutical representatives, and 44.5% identified travel grants for attending conferences as conflicts of interests. The report was published in JCO Global Oncology. Less often considered conflicts of interest were personal and institutional research funding, trips to conferences, consulting or advisory roles, food and beverages, expert testimony, and sample drugs provided by the pharmaceutical industry.

Just 24% of participants indicated that all of the listed items were deemed conflicts of interest. The survey — called Oncology Transparency Under Scrutiny and Tracking, or ONCOTRUST-1 — considered the perceptions of 200 oncologists, about 70% of whom practice in low- and middle-income countries.

What’s more, 37.5% of respondents identified fear of losing financial support as a reason not to report a conflict of interest. Still, 75% indicated that industry-sponsored speaking does not affect treatment decisions, and 60% said conflicts of interest do not impair objective appraisal of clinical trials.

Dr. El Bairi, a research associate in the department of medical oncology at Mohammed VI University Hospital, Oujda, Morocco, and his colleagues undertook the study in part because of an editorial published in The Lancet Oncology last year. First author Fidel Rubagumya, MD, a consultant oncologist and director of research at Rwanda Military Hospital, Kigali, and colleagues called for more research on the ties between oncologists and industry in Africa. The ONCOTRUST-1 findings set the stage for a planned follow-up study, which aims to compare views surrounding conflicts of interests between oncologists in different economic settings.
 

Open Payments Houses US Physicians’ Conflicts of Interest

To be sure, many authors of research published in major US journals are based outside of the United States. According to JAMA Network Open, 69% of submissions to the journal are from international authors. However, Dr. El Bairi also raised other potential signs of industry influence that he said need global discussion, such as the role of pharmaceutical companies in presentations of clinical trial findings at large cancer societies’ conferences, a shift toward progression-free survival as the endpoint in clinical cancer trials, and the rise of third-party writing assistance.

“There are two sides of the story,” Dr. El Bairi said. “The good side is that unfortunately, sometimes [industry money is] the only way for African oncologists to go abroad for training, to conferences for their continuous medical education. The bad is now we may harm patients, we might harm science by having conflicts of interest not reported.”

Unlike other countries, the United States has plentiful data on the scale of physicians’ financial conflicts of interest in the form of the Open Payments platform. Championed by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), the federal repository of payments to doctors and teaching hospitals by drug and medical device companies was established as part of the Affordable Care Act (ACA).

The health care reform law, which passed in 2010, requires pharmaceutical companies and medical device makers to report this information.

From 2013 to 2021, the pharmaceutical and medical device industry paid physicians $12.1 billion, according to a research letter published in JAMA in March of 2024 that reviewed Open Payments data.

Ranked by specialty, hematologists and oncologists received the fourth-largest amount of money in aggregate, the study shows. Their total of $825.8 million trailed only physicians in orthopedics ($1.36 billion), neurology and psychiatry ($1.32 billion) and cardiology ($1.29 billion). What’s more, this specialty had the biggest share of physicians taking industry money, with 74.2% of hematologists and oncologists receiving payments.

The payments from industry include fees for consulting services and speaking, as well as food and beverages, travel and lodging, education, gifts, grants, and honoraria.

Joseph S. Ross, MD, MHS, one of the JAMA study’s coauthors, said in an interview that the continued prevalence of such funding runs counter to the expectation behind the measure, which was that transparency would lead to physicians’ becoming less likely to accept a payment.

“We as a profession need to take a cold hard look in the mirror,” he said, referring to physicians in general.

Dr. Ross, professor of medicine at Yale University School of Medicine, New Haven, Connecticut, said he hopes that the profession will self-police, and that patients will make a bigger deal of the issue. Still, he acknowledged that “the vast majority” of patient advocacy groups, too, are funded by the pharmaceutical industry.
 

Exposing Industry Payments May Have Perverse Effect

A growing body of research explores the effect that physicians’ financial relationships with pharmaceutical companies can have on their prescribing practices. Indeed, oncologists taking industry payments seem to be more likely to prescribe nonrecommended and low-value drugs in some clinical settings, according to a study published in The BMJ last year.

That study’s first author, Aaron P. Mitchell, MD, a medical oncologist and assistant attending physician at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, New York City, suggested in an interview that exposing industry payments to the sunlight may have had a perverse effect on physicians.

“There’s this idea of having license to do something,” Dr. Mitchell said, speaking broadly about human psychology rather than drawing on empirical data. “You might feel a little less bad about then prescribing more of that company’s drug, because the disclosure has already been done.”

The influence of pharmaceutical industry money on oncologists goes beyond what’s prescribed to which treatments get studied, approved, and recommended by guidelines, Dr. Mitchell said. He was also first author of a 2016 paper published in JAMA Oncology that found 86% of authors of the National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines had at least one conflict of interest reported on Open Systems in 2014.

Meanwhile, the fact that physicians’ payments from industry are a matter of public record on Open Systems has not guaranteed that doctors will disclose their conflicts of interest in other forums. A study published in JAMA earlier this year, for which Dr. Mitchell served as first author, found that almost one in three physicians endorsing drugs and devices on the social media platform X failed to disclose that the manufacturer paid them.

The lack of disclosure seems to extend beyond social media. A 2018 study published in JAMA Oncology found that 32% of oncologist authors of clinical drug trials for drugs approved over a 20-month period from 2016 to 2017 did not fully disclose payments from the trial sponsor when checked against the Open Payments database.

A lion’s share of industry payments within oncology appears to be going to a small group of high-profile physicians, suggested a 2022 study published in JCO Oncology Practice. It found that just 1% of all US oncologists accounted for 37% of industry payments, with each receiving more than $100,000 a year.
 

Experts: Professional Societies Should Further Limit Industry Payments

While partnerships between drug companies and physicians are necessary and have often been positive, more than disclosure is needed to minimize the risk of patient harm, according to an editorial published in March in JCO Oncology Practice. In it, Nina Niu Sanford, MD, a radiation oncologist UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, and Bishal Gyawali, MD, PhD, a medical oncologist at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada, argue that following a specific blueprint could help mitigate financial conflicts of interest.

For starters, Dr. Sanford and Dr. Gyawali contend in the editorial that the maximum general payment NCCN members are allowed to receive from industry should be $0, compared with a current bar of $20,000 from a single entity or $50,000 from all external entities combined. They also urge professional societies to follow the current policy of the American Society of Clinical Oncology and ban members serving in their leadership from receiving any general payments from the industry.

The authors further suggest that investigators of clinical trials should be barred from holding stock for the drug or product while it is under study and that editorialists should not have conflicts of interest with the company whose drug or product they are discussing.

Pharmaceutical money can harm patients in ways that are not always obvious, Dr. Gyawali said in an interview.

“It can dominate the conversation by removing critical viewpoints from these top people about certain drugs,” he said. “It’s not always about saying good things about the drug.”

For instance, he suggested, a doctor receiving payments from Pfizer might openly criticize perceived flaws in drugs from other companies but refrain from weighing in negatively on a Pfizer drug.

From 2016 to 2018, industry made general payments to more than 52,000 physicians for 137 unique cancer drugs, according to a separate 2021 study published in the Journal of Cancer Policy, for which Dr. Gyawali served as one of the coauthors.

The results suggest that pharmaceutical money affects the entire cancer system, not relatively few oncology leaders. The amounts and dollar values grew each year covered by the study, to nearly 466,000 payments totaling $98.5 million in 2018.

Adriane Fugh-Berman, MD, professor of pharmacology and physiology at Georgetown University, Washington, DC, and director of PharmedOut, a Georgetown-based project that advances evidence-based prescribing and educates healthcare professionals about pharmaceutical marketing practices, has called for a ban on industry gifts to physicians.

When a publication asks physicians to disclose relevant conflicts of interest, physicians may choose not to disclose, because they don’t feel that their conflicts are relevant, Dr. Fugh-Berman said. Drug and device makers have also grown sophisticated about how they work with physicians, she suggested. “It’s illegal to market a drug before it comes on the market, but it’s not illegal to market the disease,” said Dr. Fugh-Berman, noting that drugmakers often work on long timelines.

“The doctor is going around saying we don’t have good therapies. They’re not pushing a drug. And so they feel totally fine about it.”

Anecdotally, Dr. Fugh-Berman noted that, if anything, speaking fees and similar payments only improve doctors’ reputations. She said that’s especially true if the physicians are paid by multiple companies, on the supposed theory that their conflicts of interest cancel each other out.

“I’m not defending this,” added Dr. Fugh-Berman, observing that, at the end of the day, such conflicts may go against the interests of patients.

“Sometimes the best drugs are older, generic, cheap drugs, and if oncologists or other specialists are only choosing among the most promoted drugs, they’re not necessarily choosing the best drugs.”

Beyond any prestige, doctors have other possible nonfinancial incentives for receiving industry payments. “It’s the relationships,” Dr. Fugh-Berman said. “Companies are very good at offering friendship.”

Dr. El Bairi reported NCODA leadership and honoraria along with expert testimony through techspert.io. Dr. Ross reported that he is a deputy editor of JAMA but was not involved in decisions regarding acceptance of or the review of the manuscript he authored and discussed in this article. Dr. Ross also reported receiving grants from the Food and Drug Administration, Johnson & Johnson, the Medical Device Innovation Consortium, the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. He was an expert witness in a qui tam suit alleging violations of the False Claims Act and Anti-Kickback Statute against Biogen that was settled in 2022. Dr. Mitchell reported no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Gyawali reported a consulting or advisory role with Vivio Health. Dr. Fugh-Berman reported being an expert witness for plaintiffs in complaints about drug and device marketing practices.

Three-quarters of oncologists participating in a recent global survey failed to identify one or more situations representing a conflict of interest, according to a new study.

The findings reflect limited awareness in low-income countries about what scenarios constitute a conflict of interest, first author, Khalid El Bairi, MD, said during an interview. “There is a lack of training in ethics and integrity in medical schools [in countries in Africa], so people are not informed about conflicts of interest,” continued Dr. El Bairi, who presented the new research at the annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology. “There is also a lack of policies in universities and hospitals to guide clinicians about conflict of interest reporting.”

Overall, 58.5% of survey participants categorized honoraria as a conflict of interest that required disclosure, while 50% said the same of gifts from pharmaceutical representatives, and 44.5% identified travel grants for attending conferences as conflicts of interests. The report was published in JCO Global Oncology. Less often considered conflicts of interest were personal and institutional research funding, trips to conferences, consulting or advisory roles, food and beverages, expert testimony, and sample drugs provided by the pharmaceutical industry.

Just 24% of participants indicated that all of the listed items were deemed conflicts of interest. The survey — called Oncology Transparency Under Scrutiny and Tracking, or ONCOTRUST-1 — considered the perceptions of 200 oncologists, about 70% of whom practice in low- and middle-income countries.

What’s more, 37.5% of respondents identified fear of losing financial support as a reason not to report a conflict of interest. Still, 75% indicated that industry-sponsored speaking does not affect treatment decisions, and 60% said conflicts of interest do not impair objective appraisal of clinical trials.

Dr. El Bairi, a research associate in the department of medical oncology at Mohammed VI University Hospital, Oujda, Morocco, and his colleagues undertook the study in part because of an editorial published in The Lancet Oncology last year. First author Fidel Rubagumya, MD, a consultant oncologist and director of research at Rwanda Military Hospital, Kigali, and colleagues called for more research on the ties between oncologists and industry in Africa. The ONCOTRUST-1 findings set the stage for a planned follow-up study, which aims to compare views surrounding conflicts of interests between oncologists in different economic settings.
 

Open Payments Houses US Physicians’ Conflicts of Interest

To be sure, many authors of research published in major US journals are based outside of the United States. According to JAMA Network Open, 69% of submissions to the journal are from international authors. However, Dr. El Bairi also raised other potential signs of industry influence that he said need global discussion, such as the role of pharmaceutical companies in presentations of clinical trial findings at large cancer societies’ conferences, a shift toward progression-free survival as the endpoint in clinical cancer trials, and the rise of third-party writing assistance.

“There are two sides of the story,” Dr. El Bairi said. “The good side is that unfortunately, sometimes [industry money is] the only way for African oncologists to go abroad for training, to conferences for their continuous medical education. The bad is now we may harm patients, we might harm science by having conflicts of interest not reported.”

Unlike other countries, the United States has plentiful data on the scale of physicians’ financial conflicts of interest in the form of the Open Payments platform. Championed by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), the federal repository of payments to doctors and teaching hospitals by drug and medical device companies was established as part of the Affordable Care Act (ACA).

The health care reform law, which passed in 2010, requires pharmaceutical companies and medical device makers to report this information.

From 2013 to 2021, the pharmaceutical and medical device industry paid physicians $12.1 billion, according to a research letter published in JAMA in March of 2024 that reviewed Open Payments data.

Ranked by specialty, hematologists and oncologists received the fourth-largest amount of money in aggregate, the study shows. Their total of $825.8 million trailed only physicians in orthopedics ($1.36 billion), neurology and psychiatry ($1.32 billion) and cardiology ($1.29 billion). What’s more, this specialty had the biggest share of physicians taking industry money, with 74.2% of hematologists and oncologists receiving payments.

The payments from industry include fees for consulting services and speaking, as well as food and beverages, travel and lodging, education, gifts, grants, and honoraria.

Joseph S. Ross, MD, MHS, one of the JAMA study’s coauthors, said in an interview that the continued prevalence of such funding runs counter to the expectation behind the measure, which was that transparency would lead to physicians’ becoming less likely to accept a payment.

“We as a profession need to take a cold hard look in the mirror,” he said, referring to physicians in general.

Dr. Ross, professor of medicine at Yale University School of Medicine, New Haven, Connecticut, said he hopes that the profession will self-police, and that patients will make a bigger deal of the issue. Still, he acknowledged that “the vast majority” of patient advocacy groups, too, are funded by the pharmaceutical industry.
 

Exposing Industry Payments May Have Perverse Effect

A growing body of research explores the effect that physicians’ financial relationships with pharmaceutical companies can have on their prescribing practices. Indeed, oncologists taking industry payments seem to be more likely to prescribe nonrecommended and low-value drugs in some clinical settings, according to a study published in The BMJ last year.

That study’s first author, Aaron P. Mitchell, MD, a medical oncologist and assistant attending physician at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, New York City, suggested in an interview that exposing industry payments to the sunlight may have had a perverse effect on physicians.

“There’s this idea of having license to do something,” Dr. Mitchell said, speaking broadly about human psychology rather than drawing on empirical data. “You might feel a little less bad about then prescribing more of that company’s drug, because the disclosure has already been done.”

The influence of pharmaceutical industry money on oncologists goes beyond what’s prescribed to which treatments get studied, approved, and recommended by guidelines, Dr. Mitchell said. He was also first author of a 2016 paper published in JAMA Oncology that found 86% of authors of the National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines had at least one conflict of interest reported on Open Systems in 2014.

Meanwhile, the fact that physicians’ payments from industry are a matter of public record on Open Systems has not guaranteed that doctors will disclose their conflicts of interest in other forums. A study published in JAMA earlier this year, for which Dr. Mitchell served as first author, found that almost one in three physicians endorsing drugs and devices on the social media platform X failed to disclose that the manufacturer paid them.

The lack of disclosure seems to extend beyond social media. A 2018 study published in JAMA Oncology found that 32% of oncologist authors of clinical drug trials for drugs approved over a 20-month period from 2016 to 2017 did not fully disclose payments from the trial sponsor when checked against the Open Payments database.

A lion’s share of industry payments within oncology appears to be going to a small group of high-profile physicians, suggested a 2022 study published in JCO Oncology Practice. It found that just 1% of all US oncologists accounted for 37% of industry payments, with each receiving more than $100,000 a year.
 

Experts: Professional Societies Should Further Limit Industry Payments

While partnerships between drug companies and physicians are necessary and have often been positive, more than disclosure is needed to minimize the risk of patient harm, according to an editorial published in March in JCO Oncology Practice. In it, Nina Niu Sanford, MD, a radiation oncologist UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, and Bishal Gyawali, MD, PhD, a medical oncologist at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada, argue that following a specific blueprint could help mitigate financial conflicts of interest.

For starters, Dr. Sanford and Dr. Gyawali contend in the editorial that the maximum general payment NCCN members are allowed to receive from industry should be $0, compared with a current bar of $20,000 from a single entity or $50,000 from all external entities combined. They also urge professional societies to follow the current policy of the American Society of Clinical Oncology and ban members serving in their leadership from receiving any general payments from the industry.

The authors further suggest that investigators of clinical trials should be barred from holding stock for the drug or product while it is under study and that editorialists should not have conflicts of interest with the company whose drug or product they are discussing.

Pharmaceutical money can harm patients in ways that are not always obvious, Dr. Gyawali said in an interview.

“It can dominate the conversation by removing critical viewpoints from these top people about certain drugs,” he said. “It’s not always about saying good things about the drug.”

For instance, he suggested, a doctor receiving payments from Pfizer might openly criticize perceived flaws in drugs from other companies but refrain from weighing in negatively on a Pfizer drug.

From 2016 to 2018, industry made general payments to more than 52,000 physicians for 137 unique cancer drugs, according to a separate 2021 study published in the Journal of Cancer Policy, for which Dr. Gyawali served as one of the coauthors.

The results suggest that pharmaceutical money affects the entire cancer system, not relatively few oncology leaders. The amounts and dollar values grew each year covered by the study, to nearly 466,000 payments totaling $98.5 million in 2018.

Adriane Fugh-Berman, MD, professor of pharmacology and physiology at Georgetown University, Washington, DC, and director of PharmedOut, a Georgetown-based project that advances evidence-based prescribing and educates healthcare professionals about pharmaceutical marketing practices, has called for a ban on industry gifts to physicians.

When a publication asks physicians to disclose relevant conflicts of interest, physicians may choose not to disclose, because they don’t feel that their conflicts are relevant, Dr. Fugh-Berman said. Drug and device makers have also grown sophisticated about how they work with physicians, she suggested. “It’s illegal to market a drug before it comes on the market, but it’s not illegal to market the disease,” said Dr. Fugh-Berman, noting that drugmakers often work on long timelines.

“The doctor is going around saying we don’t have good therapies. They’re not pushing a drug. And so they feel totally fine about it.”

Anecdotally, Dr. Fugh-Berman noted that, if anything, speaking fees and similar payments only improve doctors’ reputations. She said that’s especially true if the physicians are paid by multiple companies, on the supposed theory that their conflicts of interest cancel each other out.

“I’m not defending this,” added Dr. Fugh-Berman, observing that, at the end of the day, such conflicts may go against the interests of patients.

“Sometimes the best drugs are older, generic, cheap drugs, and if oncologists or other specialists are only choosing among the most promoted drugs, they’re not necessarily choosing the best drugs.”

Beyond any prestige, doctors have other possible nonfinancial incentives for receiving industry payments. “It’s the relationships,” Dr. Fugh-Berman said. “Companies are very good at offering friendship.”

Dr. El Bairi reported NCODA leadership and honoraria along with expert testimony through techspert.io. Dr. Ross reported that he is a deputy editor of JAMA but was not involved in decisions regarding acceptance of or the review of the manuscript he authored and discussed in this article. Dr. Ross also reported receiving grants from the Food and Drug Administration, Johnson & Johnson, the Medical Device Innovation Consortium, the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. He was an expert witness in a qui tam suit alleging violations of the False Claims Act and Anti-Kickback Statute against Biogen that was settled in 2022. Dr. Mitchell reported no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Gyawali reported a consulting or advisory role with Vivio Health. Dr. Fugh-Berman reported being an expert witness for plaintiffs in complaints about drug and device marketing practices.

Three-quarters of oncologists participating in a recent global survey failed to identify one or more situations representing a conflict of interest, according to a new study.

The findings reflect limited awareness in low-income countries about what scenarios constitute a conflict of interest, first author, Khalid El Bairi, MD, said during an interview. “There is a lack of training in ethics and integrity in medical schools [in countries in Africa], so people are not informed about conflicts of interest,” continued Dr. El Bairi, who presented the new research at the annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology. “There is also a lack of policies in universities and hospitals to guide clinicians about conflict of interest reporting.”

Overall, 58.5% of survey participants categorized honoraria as a conflict of interest that required disclosure, while 50% said the same of gifts from pharmaceutical representatives, and 44.5% identified travel grants for attending conferences as conflicts of interests. The report was published in JCO Global Oncology. Less often considered conflicts of interest were personal and institutional research funding, trips to conferences, consulting or advisory roles, food and beverages, expert testimony, and sample drugs provided by the pharmaceutical industry.

Just 24% of participants indicated that all of the listed items were deemed conflicts of interest. The survey — called Oncology Transparency Under Scrutiny and Tracking, or ONCOTRUST-1 — considered the perceptions of 200 oncologists, about 70% of whom practice in low- and middle-income countries.

What’s more, 37.5% of respondents identified fear of losing financial support as a reason not to report a conflict of interest. Still, 75% indicated that industry-sponsored speaking does not affect treatment decisions, and 60% said conflicts of interest do not impair objective appraisal of clinical trials.

Dr. El Bairi, a research associate in the department of medical oncology at Mohammed VI University Hospital, Oujda, Morocco, and his colleagues undertook the study in part because of an editorial published in The Lancet Oncology last year. First author Fidel Rubagumya, MD, a consultant oncologist and director of research at Rwanda Military Hospital, Kigali, and colleagues called for more research on the ties between oncologists and industry in Africa. The ONCOTRUST-1 findings set the stage for a planned follow-up study, which aims to compare views surrounding conflicts of interests between oncologists in different economic settings.
 

Open Payments Houses US Physicians’ Conflicts of Interest

To be sure, many authors of research published in major US journals are based outside of the United States. According to JAMA Network Open, 69% of submissions to the journal are from international authors. However, Dr. El Bairi also raised other potential signs of industry influence that he said need global discussion, such as the role of pharmaceutical companies in presentations of clinical trial findings at large cancer societies’ conferences, a shift toward progression-free survival as the endpoint in clinical cancer trials, and the rise of third-party writing assistance.

“There are two sides of the story,” Dr. El Bairi said. “The good side is that unfortunately, sometimes [industry money is] the only way for African oncologists to go abroad for training, to conferences for their continuous medical education. The bad is now we may harm patients, we might harm science by having conflicts of interest not reported.”

Unlike other countries, the United States has plentiful data on the scale of physicians’ financial conflicts of interest in the form of the Open Payments platform. Championed by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), the federal repository of payments to doctors and teaching hospitals by drug and medical device companies was established as part of the Affordable Care Act (ACA).

The health care reform law, which passed in 2010, requires pharmaceutical companies and medical device makers to report this information.

From 2013 to 2021, the pharmaceutical and medical device industry paid physicians $12.1 billion, according to a research letter published in JAMA in March of 2024 that reviewed Open Payments data.

Ranked by specialty, hematologists and oncologists received the fourth-largest amount of money in aggregate, the study shows. Their total of $825.8 million trailed only physicians in orthopedics ($1.36 billion), neurology and psychiatry ($1.32 billion) and cardiology ($1.29 billion). What’s more, this specialty had the biggest share of physicians taking industry money, with 74.2% of hematologists and oncologists receiving payments.

The payments from industry include fees for consulting services and speaking, as well as food and beverages, travel and lodging, education, gifts, grants, and honoraria.

Joseph S. Ross, MD, MHS, one of the JAMA study’s coauthors, said in an interview that the continued prevalence of such funding runs counter to the expectation behind the measure, which was that transparency would lead to physicians’ becoming less likely to accept a payment.

“We as a profession need to take a cold hard look in the mirror,” he said, referring to physicians in general.

Dr. Ross, professor of medicine at Yale University School of Medicine, New Haven, Connecticut, said he hopes that the profession will self-police, and that patients will make a bigger deal of the issue. Still, he acknowledged that “the vast majority” of patient advocacy groups, too, are funded by the pharmaceutical industry.
 

Exposing Industry Payments May Have Perverse Effect

A growing body of research explores the effect that physicians’ financial relationships with pharmaceutical companies can have on their prescribing practices. Indeed, oncologists taking industry payments seem to be more likely to prescribe nonrecommended and low-value drugs in some clinical settings, according to a study published in The BMJ last year.

That study’s first author, Aaron P. Mitchell, MD, a medical oncologist and assistant attending physician at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, New York City, suggested in an interview that exposing industry payments to the sunlight may have had a perverse effect on physicians.

“There’s this idea of having license to do something,” Dr. Mitchell said, speaking broadly about human psychology rather than drawing on empirical data. “You might feel a little less bad about then prescribing more of that company’s drug, because the disclosure has already been done.”

The influence of pharmaceutical industry money on oncologists goes beyond what’s prescribed to which treatments get studied, approved, and recommended by guidelines, Dr. Mitchell said. He was also first author of a 2016 paper published in JAMA Oncology that found 86% of authors of the National Comprehensive Cancer Network guidelines had at least one conflict of interest reported on Open Systems in 2014.

Meanwhile, the fact that physicians’ payments from industry are a matter of public record on Open Systems has not guaranteed that doctors will disclose their conflicts of interest in other forums. A study published in JAMA earlier this year, for which Dr. Mitchell served as first author, found that almost one in three physicians endorsing drugs and devices on the social media platform X failed to disclose that the manufacturer paid them.

The lack of disclosure seems to extend beyond social media. A 2018 study published in JAMA Oncology found that 32% of oncologist authors of clinical drug trials for drugs approved over a 20-month period from 2016 to 2017 did not fully disclose payments from the trial sponsor when checked against the Open Payments database.

A lion’s share of industry payments within oncology appears to be going to a small group of high-profile physicians, suggested a 2022 study published in JCO Oncology Practice. It found that just 1% of all US oncologists accounted for 37% of industry payments, with each receiving more than $100,000 a year.
 

Experts: Professional Societies Should Further Limit Industry Payments

While partnerships between drug companies and physicians are necessary and have often been positive, more than disclosure is needed to minimize the risk of patient harm, according to an editorial published in March in JCO Oncology Practice. In it, Nina Niu Sanford, MD, a radiation oncologist UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, and Bishal Gyawali, MD, PhD, a medical oncologist at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada, argue that following a specific blueprint could help mitigate financial conflicts of interest.

For starters, Dr. Sanford and Dr. Gyawali contend in the editorial that the maximum general payment NCCN members are allowed to receive from industry should be $0, compared with a current bar of $20,000 from a single entity or $50,000 from all external entities combined. They also urge professional societies to follow the current policy of the American Society of Clinical Oncology and ban members serving in their leadership from receiving any general payments from the industry.

The authors further suggest that investigators of clinical trials should be barred from holding stock for the drug or product while it is under study and that editorialists should not have conflicts of interest with the company whose drug or product they are discussing.

Pharmaceutical money can harm patients in ways that are not always obvious, Dr. Gyawali said in an interview.

“It can dominate the conversation by removing critical viewpoints from these top people about certain drugs,” he said. “It’s not always about saying good things about the drug.”

For instance, he suggested, a doctor receiving payments from Pfizer might openly criticize perceived flaws in drugs from other companies but refrain from weighing in negatively on a Pfizer drug.

From 2016 to 2018, industry made general payments to more than 52,000 physicians for 137 unique cancer drugs, according to a separate 2021 study published in the Journal of Cancer Policy, for which Dr. Gyawali served as one of the coauthors.

The results suggest that pharmaceutical money affects the entire cancer system, not relatively few oncology leaders. The amounts and dollar values grew each year covered by the study, to nearly 466,000 payments totaling $98.5 million in 2018.

Adriane Fugh-Berman, MD, professor of pharmacology and physiology at Georgetown University, Washington, DC, and director of PharmedOut, a Georgetown-based project that advances evidence-based prescribing and educates healthcare professionals about pharmaceutical marketing practices, has called for a ban on industry gifts to physicians.

When a publication asks physicians to disclose relevant conflicts of interest, physicians may choose not to disclose, because they don’t feel that their conflicts are relevant, Dr. Fugh-Berman said. Drug and device makers have also grown sophisticated about how they work with physicians, she suggested. “It’s illegal to market a drug before it comes on the market, but it’s not illegal to market the disease,” said Dr. Fugh-Berman, noting that drugmakers often work on long timelines.

“The doctor is going around saying we don’t have good therapies. They’re not pushing a drug. And so they feel totally fine about it.”

Anecdotally, Dr. Fugh-Berman noted that, if anything, speaking fees and similar payments only improve doctors’ reputations. She said that’s especially true if the physicians are paid by multiple companies, on the supposed theory that their conflicts of interest cancel each other out.

“I’m not defending this,” added Dr. Fugh-Berman, observing that, at the end of the day, such conflicts may go against the interests of patients.

“Sometimes the best drugs are older, generic, cheap drugs, and if oncologists or other specialists are only choosing among the most promoted drugs, they’re not necessarily choosing the best drugs.”

Beyond any prestige, doctors have other possible nonfinancial incentives for receiving industry payments. “It’s the relationships,” Dr. Fugh-Berman said. “Companies are very good at offering friendship.”

Dr. El Bairi reported NCODA leadership and honoraria along with expert testimony through techspert.io. Dr. Ross reported that he is a deputy editor of JAMA but was not involved in decisions regarding acceptance of or the review of the manuscript he authored and discussed in this article. Dr. Ross also reported receiving grants from the Food and Drug Administration, Johnson & Johnson, the Medical Device Innovation Consortium, the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality, and the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute. He was an expert witness in a qui tam suit alleging violations of the False Claims Act and Anti-Kickback Statute against Biogen that was settled in 2022. Dr. Mitchell reported no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Gyawali reported a consulting or advisory role with Vivio Health. Dr. Fugh-Berman reported being an expert witness for plaintiffs in complaints about drug and device marketing practices.

In March 2024, four women in Tennessee and three in New York City fell ill after receiving botulinum neurotoxin (BoNT) injections in nonmedical settings, and four of the women required hospitalization — two in the intensive care unit. None of the cases required intubation, according to an announcement of an investigation into these reports in by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

The report, published online in the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, notes that the four patients in Tennessee received counterfeit BoNT, while product information was not available for the three cases in New York City. “However, one person reported paying less than US wholesale acquisition cost for the administered product, and another reported that the product had been purchased overseas,” the authors of the report wrote. The development underscores that BoNT injections “should be administered only by licensed and trained providers using recommended doses of FDA [Food and Drug Admininstration]-approved products.”

This report follows a CDC advisory published in April 2024 of at least 22 people from 11 states who reported serious reactions after receiving botulinum toxin injections from unlicensed or untrained individuals or in nonhealthcare settings, such as homes and spas.

The median age of the women in the July report was 48 years, and signs and symptoms included ptosis, dry mouth, dysphagia, shortness of breath, and weakness. Onset occurred between February 23 and March 7, 2024.

“This investigation did not determine why these illnesses occurred after cosmetic BoNT injections; potential reasons might include use of counterfeit BoNT, which might be more potent or contain harmful additional ingredients or higher susceptibility to BoNT effects among some persons,” the investigators wrote. They recommended further studies to describe the clinical spectrum of cosmetic BoNT injection effects such as severity of signs and symptoms.

For cases of suspected systemic botulism, the CDC recommends calling the local or state health department for consultation and antitoxin release (as well as information on reporting adverse events). Alternatively, the 24/7 phone number for the CDC clinical botulism service is 770-488-7100.

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

In March 2024, four women in Tennessee and three in New York City fell ill after receiving botulinum neurotoxin (BoNT) injections in nonmedical settings, and four of the women required hospitalization — two in the intensive care unit. None of the cases required intubation, according to an announcement of an investigation into these reports in by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

The report, published online in the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, notes that the four patients in Tennessee received counterfeit BoNT, while product information was not available for the three cases in New York City. “However, one person reported paying less than US wholesale acquisition cost for the administered product, and another reported that the product had been purchased overseas,” the authors of the report wrote. The development underscores that BoNT injections “should be administered only by licensed and trained providers using recommended doses of FDA [Food and Drug Admininstration]-approved products.”

This report follows a CDC advisory published in April 2024 of at least 22 people from 11 states who reported serious reactions after receiving botulinum toxin injections from unlicensed or untrained individuals or in nonhealthcare settings, such as homes and spas.

The median age of the women in the July report was 48 years, and signs and symptoms included ptosis, dry mouth, dysphagia, shortness of breath, and weakness. Onset occurred between February 23 and March 7, 2024.

“This investigation did not determine why these illnesses occurred after cosmetic BoNT injections; potential reasons might include use of counterfeit BoNT, which might be more potent or contain harmful additional ingredients or higher susceptibility to BoNT effects among some persons,” the investigators wrote. They recommended further studies to describe the clinical spectrum of cosmetic BoNT injection effects such as severity of signs and symptoms.

For cases of suspected systemic botulism, the CDC recommends calling the local or state health department for consultation and antitoxin release (as well as information on reporting adverse events). Alternatively, the 24/7 phone number for the CDC clinical botulism service is 770-488-7100.

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

In March 2024, four women in Tennessee and three in New York City fell ill after receiving botulinum neurotoxin (BoNT) injections in nonmedical settings, and four of the women required hospitalization — two in the intensive care unit. None of the cases required intubation, according to an announcement of an investigation into these reports in by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

The report, published online in the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, notes that the four patients in Tennessee received counterfeit BoNT, while product information was not available for the three cases in New York City. “However, one person reported paying less than US wholesale acquisition cost for the administered product, and another reported that the product had been purchased overseas,” the authors of the report wrote. The development underscores that BoNT injections “should be administered only by licensed and trained providers using recommended doses of FDA [Food and Drug Admininstration]-approved products.”

This report follows a CDC advisory published in April 2024 of at least 22 people from 11 states who reported serious reactions after receiving botulinum toxin injections from unlicensed or untrained individuals or in nonhealthcare settings, such as homes and spas.

The median age of the women in the July report was 48 years, and signs and symptoms included ptosis, dry mouth, dysphagia, shortness of breath, and weakness. Onset occurred between February 23 and March 7, 2024.

“This investigation did not determine why these illnesses occurred after cosmetic BoNT injections; potential reasons might include use of counterfeit BoNT, which might be more potent or contain harmful additional ingredients or higher susceptibility to BoNT effects among some persons,” the investigators wrote. They recommended further studies to describe the clinical spectrum of cosmetic BoNT injection effects such as severity of signs and symptoms.

For cases of suspected systemic botulism, the CDC recommends calling the local or state health department for consultation and antitoxin release (as well as information on reporting adverse events). Alternatively, the 24/7 phone number for the CDC clinical botulism service is 770-488-7100.

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

Your odds are 1 in 562,400.

Or, as Bill Mallon, the past president and cofounder of the International Society of Olympic Historians, has said, aspiring athletes have a 0.00000178% chance of making the Games.

Now imagine the odds of making the Olympics and then going on to become a physician. And maybe it’s not surprising that those who have done it credit the training they received as Olympic athletes as key to their success in medicine.

“Dealing with poor outcomes and having to get back up and try again,” said Olympian-turned-physician Ogonna Nnamani Silva, MD, “that reiterative process of trying to obtain perfection in your craft — that’s athletics 101.”

This connection isn’t just anecdotal. It has been discussed in medical journals and examined in surveys. The consensus is that, yes, there are specific characteristics elite athletes develop that physicians — regardless of their athletic background — can learn to apply to their work in medicine.

Maybe it’s something else, too: Certain mindsets don’t worry about long odds. They seek out crucibles again and again without concern for the heat involved. Because the outcome is worth it.

Here are four athletes who became high-performing physicians and how they did it.
 

The Gymnast/The Pediatric Surgeon

“Gymnastics helped me build a skill set for my career,” said Canadian Olympic gymnast-turned-pediatric orthopedic surgeon Lise Leveille, MD. “It led me to be successful as a medical student and ultimately obtain the job that I want in the area that I want working with the people that I want.”

The skills Dr. Leveille prizes include time management, teamwork, goal setting, and a strong work ethic, all of which propel an athlete to the crucial moment of “performance.”

“I miss performing,” said Dr. Leveille. “It defines who I was at that time. I miss being able to work toward something and then deliver when it counted” — like when she qualified for the 1998 Commonwealth games in Kuala Lumpur at 16.

The Canadian national team came third at that event, and Dr. Leveille built on that success at the Pan American Games, taking gold on the balance beam and as a team, and then qualifying for the Olympics at the 1999 World Championships. She competed in the team and five individual events at the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney.

Though Dr. Leveille started gymnastics at age 3, her parents, both teachers, instilled in her the importance of education. Gymnastics opened academic doors for her, like being recruited to Stanford where she completed her undergraduate degree in biomedical engineering and human biology in 2004 before entering medical school at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.

Now 41, Dr. Leveille accepts that she’ll never nail another gymnastics routine, but she channels that love of sticking the landing into the operating room at British Columbia Children’s Hospital, also in Vancouver.

“Some of the unknown variables within the operating room and how you deal with those unknown variables is exactly like showing up for a competition,” Dr. Leveille said. “When I have one of those cases where I have to perform under pressure and everything comes together, that’s exactly like nailing your routine when it counts most.”
 

The Pole Vaulter/The Emergency Medicine Physician

Tunisian American pole vaulter Leila Ben-Youssef, MD, had what could be considered a disappointing showing at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. She collapsed from severe abdominal pain during the opening ceremony and had to be carried out. On the day of competition, she was still suffering. “I could barely run down the runway,” she recalled. “I cleared one bar. I was just happy to have been able to do that.”

When Dr. Ben-Youssef, who grew up in Montana, returned home, she underwent emergency surgery to remove the source of the pain: A large, benign tumor.

While some might be devastated by such bad luck, Dr. Ben-Youssef focuses on the success of her journey — the fact that she qualified and competed at the Olympics in the first place. The ability to accept setbacks is something she said comes with the territory.

“As an athlete, you’re always facing injury, and someone told me early in my career that the best athletes are the ones that know how to manage their expectations because it’s bound to happen,” she said. “So, there is disappointment. But recognizing that I did qualify for the Olympics despite being uncomfortable and having issues, I was still able to meet my goal.”

Prior to the games, Dr. Ben-Youssef had been accepted into medical school at the University of Washington School of Medicine at Montana State University in Bozeman, Montana. Thankfully, the school was supportive of Dr. Ben-Youssef’s Olympic dreams and allowed her to begin her studies a month behind her class. Upon her return from Beijing, she spent the rest of her medical school training with her head down, grinding.

“Medicine is hard,” said Dr. Ben-Youssef. “It’s grueling both physically and emotionally, and I think that’s similar to any elite sport. You’re going to deal with challenges and disappointment. I think having gone through that as an athlete really prepares you for the medical education system, for residency, and even for day-to-day work.”

Now a physician working in emergency medicine in Hawaii, Dr. Ben-Youssef feels the setbacks she experienced as an athlete help her connect with her patients as they deal with health challenges.

And as a volunteer pole vaulting coach for a local high school, Dr. Ben-Youssef has been able to surround herself with the positive, joyful energy of athletes. “Emergency medicine is often a sad place,” she said. “But in a sports environment, if people don’t succeed or are injured, there is still that energy there that strives for something, and it’s so fun to be around.”
 

The Rower/The Sports Medicine Specialist

Three-time US Olympic rower Genevra “Gevvie” Stone, MD, wanted to be a doctor even before she gave a thought to rowing. She was in eighth grade when she dislocated her knee for the third time. Her parents took her to a pediatric orthopedist, and Dr. Stone, according to her mom, declared: “That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“I’m a very stubborn person, and when I make a decision like that, I usually don’t veer from it,” Dr. Stone said.

That laser focus combined with a deep love of both sports and medicine has served Dr. Stone well. “Becoming a doctor and becoming an Olympian require you to dedicate not just your time and your energy but also your passion to that focus,” she said. “In both, you aren’t going to be successful if you don’t love what you’re doing. Finding the reward in it is what makes it achievable.”

Dr. Stone actually resisted rowing until she was 16 because both of her parents were Olympians in the sport and met on the US team. “It was their thing, and I didn’t want it to be my thing,” she recalled.

Nonetheless, Dr. Stone easily fell into the sport in her late teens and was recruited by Princeton University. “I had grown up around Olympians and kind of took it for granted that if you worked hard enough and were decent at rowing, then you could be one of the best in the world, without really realizing how difficult it would be to achieve that,” she said.

Dr. Stone’s team won the NCAA Championship in 2006 and was invited to try out for the 2008 Olympic team at the US training center after she graduated from college. But she didn’t make it.

Instead, Dr. Stone entered medical school at Tufts University School of Medicine, Boston, thinking her competitive rowing career had come to end. But her love for the sport was still strong, and she realized she wasn’t finished.

After 2 years of medical school, Dr. Stone requested 2 years off so she might have another shot at making the Olympic team. The timing was right. She went to the London Olympics in 2012, graduated from medical school in 2014, and then took 2 more years off to train full time for the 2016 Olympics in Rio where she won silver.

At the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Dr. Stone took fifth place in the double sculls. While she continues to race the master’s circuit, she’s primarily dedicated to completing her sports medicine fellowship at University of Utah Health.

Fortunately, Dr. Stone’s parents, coaches, and teachers always supported her goals. “No one turned to me and told me I was crazy, just choose medicine or rowing,” she said. “Everyone said that if this is what you want to do, we’re here to support you, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without that support.”
 

The Volleyball Player/The Plastic Surgeon

Dr. Nnamani Silva’s journey to the Olympics was also paved with an extensive list of supporters, beginning with her parents. And she has taken that sense of collaboration, coordination, and teamwork into her medical career.

The daughter of Nigerian immigrants who came to the United States to escape civil war, Dr. Nnamani Silva said her parents embraced the American dream. “To see what they were able to do with hard work, dedication, and sacrifice, I had no choice but to work hard because I saw their example. And that love for and belief in America was so strong in my house growing up,” she said.

Dreams of practicing medicine came first. A severe asthmatic growing up, Dr. Nnamani Silva recalled having wonderful doctors. “I had so many emergency room visits and hospitalizations,” she said. “But the doctors always gave me hope, and they literally transformed my life. I thought if I could pass that on to my future patients, that would be the greatest honor of my life.”

Volleyball gave Dr. Nnamani Silva the opportunity to attend Stanford, and she took time off during her junior year to train and compete in the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens. She also played for the United States at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing where the team took silver. Afterward, she continued to play overseas for several years.

At 33, and with a newborn daughter, Dr. Nnamani Silva returned to her original goal of becoming a doctor. She attended the University of California, San Francisco, and is currently a resident in the Harvard Plastic Surgery Program. She includes her husband, parents, and in-laws in this achievement, whom she said “saved” her. “There is no chance I would have finished medical school and survived residency without them.”

As a volleyball player, Dr. Nnamani Silva said she “believes in teams wholeheartedly,” valuing the exchange of energy and skill that she feels brings out the best in people. As a medical student, she initially didn’t realize how her previous life would apply to teamwork in the operating room. But it soon became clear.

“In surgery, when you harness the talents of everyone around you and you create that synergy, it’s an amazing feeling,” she said. And the stakes are often high. “It requires a lot of focus, discipline, determination, and resilience because you’re going to be humbled all the time.” Something athletes know a little bit about.

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

Your odds are 1 in 562,400.

Or, as Bill Mallon, the past president and cofounder of the International Society of Olympic Historians, has said, aspiring athletes have a 0.00000178% chance of making the Games.

Now imagine the odds of making the Olympics and then going on to become a physician. And maybe it’s not surprising that those who have done it credit the training they received as Olympic athletes as key to their success in medicine.

“Dealing with poor outcomes and having to get back up and try again,” said Olympian-turned-physician Ogonna Nnamani Silva, MD, “that reiterative process of trying to obtain perfection in your craft — that’s athletics 101.”

This connection isn’t just anecdotal. It has been discussed in medical journals and examined in surveys. The consensus is that, yes, there are specific characteristics elite athletes develop that physicians — regardless of their athletic background — can learn to apply to their work in medicine.

Maybe it’s something else, too: Certain mindsets don’t worry about long odds. They seek out crucibles again and again without concern for the heat involved. Because the outcome is worth it.

Here are four athletes who became high-performing physicians and how they did it.
 

The Gymnast/The Pediatric Surgeon

“Gymnastics helped me build a skill set for my career,” said Canadian Olympic gymnast-turned-pediatric orthopedic surgeon Lise Leveille, MD. “It led me to be successful as a medical student and ultimately obtain the job that I want in the area that I want working with the people that I want.”

The skills Dr. Leveille prizes include time management, teamwork, goal setting, and a strong work ethic, all of which propel an athlete to the crucial moment of “performance.”

“I miss performing,” said Dr. Leveille. “It defines who I was at that time. I miss being able to work toward something and then deliver when it counted” — like when she qualified for the 1998 Commonwealth games in Kuala Lumpur at 16.

The Canadian national team came third at that event, and Dr. Leveille built on that success at the Pan American Games, taking gold on the balance beam and as a team, and then qualifying for the Olympics at the 1999 World Championships. She competed in the team and five individual events at the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney.

Though Dr. Leveille started gymnastics at age 3, her parents, both teachers, instilled in her the importance of education. Gymnastics opened academic doors for her, like being recruited to Stanford where she completed her undergraduate degree in biomedical engineering and human biology in 2004 before entering medical school at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.

Now 41, Dr. Leveille accepts that she’ll never nail another gymnastics routine, but she channels that love of sticking the landing into the operating room at British Columbia Children’s Hospital, also in Vancouver.

“Some of the unknown variables within the operating room and how you deal with those unknown variables is exactly like showing up for a competition,” Dr. Leveille said. “When I have one of those cases where I have to perform under pressure and everything comes together, that’s exactly like nailing your routine when it counts most.”
 

The Pole Vaulter/The Emergency Medicine Physician

Tunisian American pole vaulter Leila Ben-Youssef, MD, had what could be considered a disappointing showing at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. She collapsed from severe abdominal pain during the opening ceremony and had to be carried out. On the day of competition, she was still suffering. “I could barely run down the runway,” she recalled. “I cleared one bar. I was just happy to have been able to do that.”

When Dr. Ben-Youssef, who grew up in Montana, returned home, she underwent emergency surgery to remove the source of the pain: A large, benign tumor.

While some might be devastated by such bad luck, Dr. Ben-Youssef focuses on the success of her journey — the fact that she qualified and competed at the Olympics in the first place. The ability to accept setbacks is something she said comes with the territory.

“As an athlete, you’re always facing injury, and someone told me early in my career that the best athletes are the ones that know how to manage their expectations because it’s bound to happen,” she said. “So, there is disappointment. But recognizing that I did qualify for the Olympics despite being uncomfortable and having issues, I was still able to meet my goal.”

Prior to the games, Dr. Ben-Youssef had been accepted into medical school at the University of Washington School of Medicine at Montana State University in Bozeman, Montana. Thankfully, the school was supportive of Dr. Ben-Youssef’s Olympic dreams and allowed her to begin her studies a month behind her class. Upon her return from Beijing, she spent the rest of her medical school training with her head down, grinding.

“Medicine is hard,” said Dr. Ben-Youssef. “It’s grueling both physically and emotionally, and I think that’s similar to any elite sport. You’re going to deal with challenges and disappointment. I think having gone through that as an athlete really prepares you for the medical education system, for residency, and even for day-to-day work.”

Now a physician working in emergency medicine in Hawaii, Dr. Ben-Youssef feels the setbacks she experienced as an athlete help her connect with her patients as they deal with health challenges.

And as a volunteer pole vaulting coach for a local high school, Dr. Ben-Youssef has been able to surround herself with the positive, joyful energy of athletes. “Emergency medicine is often a sad place,” she said. “But in a sports environment, if people don’t succeed or are injured, there is still that energy there that strives for something, and it’s so fun to be around.”
 

The Rower/The Sports Medicine Specialist

Three-time US Olympic rower Genevra “Gevvie” Stone, MD, wanted to be a doctor even before she gave a thought to rowing. She was in eighth grade when she dislocated her knee for the third time. Her parents took her to a pediatric orthopedist, and Dr. Stone, according to her mom, declared: “That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“I’m a very stubborn person, and when I make a decision like that, I usually don’t veer from it,” Dr. Stone said.

That laser focus combined with a deep love of both sports and medicine has served Dr. Stone well. “Becoming a doctor and becoming an Olympian require you to dedicate not just your time and your energy but also your passion to that focus,” she said. “In both, you aren’t going to be successful if you don’t love what you’re doing. Finding the reward in it is what makes it achievable.”

Dr. Stone actually resisted rowing until she was 16 because both of her parents were Olympians in the sport and met on the US team. “It was their thing, and I didn’t want it to be my thing,” she recalled.

Nonetheless, Dr. Stone easily fell into the sport in her late teens and was recruited by Princeton University. “I had grown up around Olympians and kind of took it for granted that if you worked hard enough and were decent at rowing, then you could be one of the best in the world, without really realizing how difficult it would be to achieve that,” she said.

Dr. Stone’s team won the NCAA Championship in 2006 and was invited to try out for the 2008 Olympic team at the US training center after she graduated from college. But she didn’t make it.

Instead, Dr. Stone entered medical school at Tufts University School of Medicine, Boston, thinking her competitive rowing career had come to end. But her love for the sport was still strong, and she realized she wasn’t finished.

After 2 years of medical school, Dr. Stone requested 2 years off so she might have another shot at making the Olympic team. The timing was right. She went to the London Olympics in 2012, graduated from medical school in 2014, and then took 2 more years off to train full time for the 2016 Olympics in Rio where she won silver.

At the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Dr. Stone took fifth place in the double sculls. While she continues to race the master’s circuit, she’s primarily dedicated to completing her sports medicine fellowship at University of Utah Health.

Fortunately, Dr. Stone’s parents, coaches, and teachers always supported her goals. “No one turned to me and told me I was crazy, just choose medicine or rowing,” she said. “Everyone said that if this is what you want to do, we’re here to support you, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without that support.”
 

The Volleyball Player/The Plastic Surgeon

Dr. Nnamani Silva’s journey to the Olympics was also paved with an extensive list of supporters, beginning with her parents. And she has taken that sense of collaboration, coordination, and teamwork into her medical career.

The daughter of Nigerian immigrants who came to the United States to escape civil war, Dr. Nnamani Silva said her parents embraced the American dream. “To see what they were able to do with hard work, dedication, and sacrifice, I had no choice but to work hard because I saw their example. And that love for and belief in America was so strong in my house growing up,” she said.

Dreams of practicing medicine came first. A severe asthmatic growing up, Dr. Nnamani Silva recalled having wonderful doctors. “I had so many emergency room visits and hospitalizations,” she said. “But the doctors always gave me hope, and they literally transformed my life. I thought if I could pass that on to my future patients, that would be the greatest honor of my life.”

Volleyball gave Dr. Nnamani Silva the opportunity to attend Stanford, and she took time off during her junior year to train and compete in the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens. She also played for the United States at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing where the team took silver. Afterward, she continued to play overseas for several years.

At 33, and with a newborn daughter, Dr. Nnamani Silva returned to her original goal of becoming a doctor. She attended the University of California, San Francisco, and is currently a resident in the Harvard Plastic Surgery Program. She includes her husband, parents, and in-laws in this achievement, whom she said “saved” her. “There is no chance I would have finished medical school and survived residency without them.”

As a volleyball player, Dr. Nnamani Silva said she “believes in teams wholeheartedly,” valuing the exchange of energy and skill that she feels brings out the best in people. As a medical student, she initially didn’t realize how her previous life would apply to teamwork in the operating room. But it soon became clear.

“In surgery, when you harness the talents of everyone around you and you create that synergy, it’s an amazing feeling,” she said. And the stakes are often high. “It requires a lot of focus, discipline, determination, and resilience because you’re going to be humbled all the time.” Something athletes know a little bit about.

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

Your odds are 1 in 562,400.

Or, as Bill Mallon, the past president and cofounder of the International Society of Olympic Historians, has said, aspiring athletes have a 0.00000178% chance of making the Games.

Now imagine the odds of making the Olympics and then going on to become a physician. And maybe it’s not surprising that those who have done it credit the training they received as Olympic athletes as key to their success in medicine.

“Dealing with poor outcomes and having to get back up and try again,” said Olympian-turned-physician Ogonna Nnamani Silva, MD, “that reiterative process of trying to obtain perfection in your craft — that’s athletics 101.”

This connection isn’t just anecdotal. It has been discussed in medical journals and examined in surveys. The consensus is that, yes, there are specific characteristics elite athletes develop that physicians — regardless of their athletic background — can learn to apply to their work in medicine.

Maybe it’s something else, too: Certain mindsets don’t worry about long odds. They seek out crucibles again and again without concern for the heat involved. Because the outcome is worth it.

Here are four athletes who became high-performing physicians and how they did it.
 

The Gymnast/The Pediatric Surgeon

“Gymnastics helped me build a skill set for my career,” said Canadian Olympic gymnast-turned-pediatric orthopedic surgeon Lise Leveille, MD. “It led me to be successful as a medical student and ultimately obtain the job that I want in the area that I want working with the people that I want.”

The skills Dr. Leveille prizes include time management, teamwork, goal setting, and a strong work ethic, all of which propel an athlete to the crucial moment of “performance.”

“I miss performing,” said Dr. Leveille. “It defines who I was at that time. I miss being able to work toward something and then deliver when it counted” — like when she qualified for the 1998 Commonwealth games in Kuala Lumpur at 16.

The Canadian national team came third at that event, and Dr. Leveille built on that success at the Pan American Games, taking gold on the balance beam and as a team, and then qualifying for the Olympics at the 1999 World Championships. She competed in the team and five individual events at the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney.

Though Dr. Leveille started gymnastics at age 3, her parents, both teachers, instilled in her the importance of education. Gymnastics opened academic doors for her, like being recruited to Stanford where she completed her undergraduate degree in biomedical engineering and human biology in 2004 before entering medical school at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.

Now 41, Dr. Leveille accepts that she’ll never nail another gymnastics routine, but she channels that love of sticking the landing into the operating room at British Columbia Children’s Hospital, also in Vancouver.

“Some of the unknown variables within the operating room and how you deal with those unknown variables is exactly like showing up for a competition,” Dr. Leveille said. “When I have one of those cases where I have to perform under pressure and everything comes together, that’s exactly like nailing your routine when it counts most.”
 

The Pole Vaulter/The Emergency Medicine Physician

Tunisian American pole vaulter Leila Ben-Youssef, MD, had what could be considered a disappointing showing at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. She collapsed from severe abdominal pain during the opening ceremony and had to be carried out. On the day of competition, she was still suffering. “I could barely run down the runway,” she recalled. “I cleared one bar. I was just happy to have been able to do that.”

When Dr. Ben-Youssef, who grew up in Montana, returned home, she underwent emergency surgery to remove the source of the pain: A large, benign tumor.

While some might be devastated by such bad luck, Dr. Ben-Youssef focuses on the success of her journey — the fact that she qualified and competed at the Olympics in the first place. The ability to accept setbacks is something she said comes with the territory.

“As an athlete, you’re always facing injury, and someone told me early in my career that the best athletes are the ones that know how to manage their expectations because it’s bound to happen,” she said. “So, there is disappointment. But recognizing that I did qualify for the Olympics despite being uncomfortable and having issues, I was still able to meet my goal.”

Prior to the games, Dr. Ben-Youssef had been accepted into medical school at the University of Washington School of Medicine at Montana State University in Bozeman, Montana. Thankfully, the school was supportive of Dr. Ben-Youssef’s Olympic dreams and allowed her to begin her studies a month behind her class. Upon her return from Beijing, she spent the rest of her medical school training with her head down, grinding.

“Medicine is hard,” said Dr. Ben-Youssef. “It’s grueling both physically and emotionally, and I think that’s similar to any elite sport. You’re going to deal with challenges and disappointment. I think having gone through that as an athlete really prepares you for the medical education system, for residency, and even for day-to-day work.”

Now a physician working in emergency medicine in Hawaii, Dr. Ben-Youssef feels the setbacks she experienced as an athlete help her connect with her patients as they deal with health challenges.

And as a volunteer pole vaulting coach for a local high school, Dr. Ben-Youssef has been able to surround herself with the positive, joyful energy of athletes. “Emergency medicine is often a sad place,” she said. “But in a sports environment, if people don’t succeed or are injured, there is still that energy there that strives for something, and it’s so fun to be around.”
 

The Rower/The Sports Medicine Specialist

Three-time US Olympic rower Genevra “Gevvie” Stone, MD, wanted to be a doctor even before she gave a thought to rowing. She was in eighth grade when she dislocated her knee for the third time. Her parents took her to a pediatric orthopedist, and Dr. Stone, according to her mom, declared: “That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“I’m a very stubborn person, and when I make a decision like that, I usually don’t veer from it,” Dr. Stone said.

That laser focus combined with a deep love of both sports and medicine has served Dr. Stone well. “Becoming a doctor and becoming an Olympian require you to dedicate not just your time and your energy but also your passion to that focus,” she said. “In both, you aren’t going to be successful if you don’t love what you’re doing. Finding the reward in it is what makes it achievable.”

Dr. Stone actually resisted rowing until she was 16 because both of her parents were Olympians in the sport and met on the US team. “It was their thing, and I didn’t want it to be my thing,” she recalled.

Nonetheless, Dr. Stone easily fell into the sport in her late teens and was recruited by Princeton University. “I had grown up around Olympians and kind of took it for granted that if you worked hard enough and were decent at rowing, then you could be one of the best in the world, without really realizing how difficult it would be to achieve that,” she said.

Dr. Stone’s team won the NCAA Championship in 2006 and was invited to try out for the 2008 Olympic team at the US training center after she graduated from college. But she didn’t make it.

Instead, Dr. Stone entered medical school at Tufts University School of Medicine, Boston, thinking her competitive rowing career had come to end. But her love for the sport was still strong, and she realized she wasn’t finished.

After 2 years of medical school, Dr. Stone requested 2 years off so she might have another shot at making the Olympic team. The timing was right. She went to the London Olympics in 2012, graduated from medical school in 2014, and then took 2 more years off to train full time for the 2016 Olympics in Rio where she won silver.

At the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Dr. Stone took fifth place in the double sculls. While she continues to race the master’s circuit, she’s primarily dedicated to completing her sports medicine fellowship at University of Utah Health.

Fortunately, Dr. Stone’s parents, coaches, and teachers always supported her goals. “No one turned to me and told me I was crazy, just choose medicine or rowing,” she said. “Everyone said that if this is what you want to do, we’re here to support you, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without that support.”
 

The Volleyball Player/The Plastic Surgeon

Dr. Nnamani Silva’s journey to the Olympics was also paved with an extensive list of supporters, beginning with her parents. And she has taken that sense of collaboration, coordination, and teamwork into her medical career.

The daughter of Nigerian immigrants who came to the United States to escape civil war, Dr. Nnamani Silva said her parents embraced the American dream. “To see what they were able to do with hard work, dedication, and sacrifice, I had no choice but to work hard because I saw their example. And that love for and belief in America was so strong in my house growing up,” she said.

Dreams of practicing medicine came first. A severe asthmatic growing up, Dr. Nnamani Silva recalled having wonderful doctors. “I had so many emergency room visits and hospitalizations,” she said. “But the doctors always gave me hope, and they literally transformed my life. I thought if I could pass that on to my future patients, that would be the greatest honor of my life.”

Volleyball gave Dr. Nnamani Silva the opportunity to attend Stanford, and she took time off during her junior year to train and compete in the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens. She also played for the United States at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing where the team took silver. Afterward, she continued to play overseas for several years.

At 33, and with a newborn daughter, Dr. Nnamani Silva returned to her original goal of becoming a doctor. She attended the University of California, San Francisco, and is currently a resident in the Harvard Plastic Surgery Program. She includes her husband, parents, and in-laws in this achievement, whom she said “saved” her. “There is no chance I would have finished medical school and survived residency without them.”

As a volleyball player, Dr. Nnamani Silva said she “believes in teams wholeheartedly,” valuing the exchange of energy and skill that she feels brings out the best in people. As a medical student, she initially didn’t realize how her previous life would apply to teamwork in the operating room. But it soon became clear.

“In surgery, when you harness the talents of everyone around you and you create that synergy, it’s an amazing feeling,” she said. And the stakes are often high. “It requires a lot of focus, discipline, determination, and resilience because you’re going to be humbled all the time.” Something athletes know a little bit about.

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

Across the world, healthcare workers experience workplace violence, which can differ by gender, seniority, and the type of workplace, according to a recent study.

An analysis found that men were more likely to report physical violence, while women were more likely to face nonphysical violence, such as verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying.

“Our study was sparked by the increasing research on workplace violence in healthcare settings. Yet, there’s less empirical data about workplace violence based on gender, its effects on individuals and the collective workforce, and its subsequent impact on patient care and healthcare organizations,” study author Basnama Ayaz, a PhD candidate in nursing at the University of Toronto, told this news organization.

“Workplace violence in healthcare settings is a critical issue that requires attention and action from all stakeholders, including individual providers, healthcare and other institutions, policymakers, and the community,” she said. “By recognizing the problem and implementing evidence-based solutions, we can create safer work environments that protect healthcare workers and improve quality care for patients and organizational effectiveness.”

The study was published online in PLOS Global Public Health.
 

Widespread and Severe

Although women represent most of the healthcare workforce worldwide, hierarchical structures tend to reflect traditional gender norms, where men hold leadership positions and women serve in front-line care roles, said Ms. Ayaz. Women are often marginalized, and their concerns dismissed, which can exacerbate their vulnerability to gender-based workplace violence, she added.

To better understand these imbalances on a global scale, the investigators conducted a scoping review of the prevalence of and risk factors for gender-based workplace violence in healthcare settings. Participants included physicians, nurses, and midwives, between 2010 and 2024. Although the authors acknowledged that gender-based workplace violence affects the full gender spectrum, only a handful of studies included information about nonbinary personnel, so the review focused on men and women.

Among 226 studies, half focused on physicians, 22% focused on nurses, and 28% included physicians, nurses, midwives, and other medical workers. About 64% of studies reported a higher prevalence of all forms of workplace violence for women, including sexual violence, verbal abuse, discrimination, bullying, and physical violence, while 17% reported a higher prevalence for men.

Overall, across most countries, men experienced more physical violence than did women, and women experienced more verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying. Female nurses were particularly likely to experience violence.

Healthcare workers were also more likely to experience violence if they were younger, less experienced, had a lower professional status, or were part of a minority group based on ethnicity, nationality, culture, or language. These factors were sensitive to gender, “reflecting women’s structural disadvantages in the workplace,” wrote the authors.

As a result of workplace violence, women were more likely to report changes in mental health and social behaviors, as well as dissatisfaction, burnout, and changes in their career goals.

The research team identified various factors linked to violent episodes. In clinical settings where most perpetrators were patients and their relatives, abuse and violence could be related to overcrowding, waiting time, and heavy workloads for healthcare providers. When supervisors or colleagues were the perpetrators, workplace violence appeared to be more likely with long hours, night shifts, and certain clinical settings, such as emergency departments, psychiatric settings, operating rooms, and maternity wards, said Ms. Ayaz. Sexual or gender harassment toward women was more prevalent in male-dominated surgical specialties.

“We were surprised by the extent and severity of workplace violence that healthcare workers face around the globe based on gender,” she said. “One aspect that stood out was the significant role that organizational culture and support systems play either in mitigating or exacerbating these incidents, particularly the power structures between and within professions.”

For instance, trainees in lower hierarchical positions often face a higher risk for violence, especially gender-based harassment, she said. Many times, they feel they can’t report these incidents to trainers or managers, who may also be the perpetrators, she added.
 

Addressing Systemic Issues

In 2002, the World Health Organization, International Council of Nurses, and other major medical and labor groups worldwide launched a program focused on ways to eliminate workplace violence in healthcare settings. Since 2020, the call for a solution has grown louder as clinicians, nurses, and other health professionals faced more physical and verbal violence during the COVID-19 pandemic, often leading to burnout.

“Workplace violence is very important because it is more prevalent in healthcare workers than in many other settings and is on the rise,” said Karen Abrams, MD, assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto. Dr. Abrams, who wasn’t involved with this study, has researched physicians’ experiences of stalking by patients.

Workplace violence “can affect physical and mental health and lead to burnout, depression, anxiety, and symptoms of PTSD,” said Dr. Abrams. “It can affect one’s sleep and concentration and, therefore, ability to perform one’s job.”

Dr. Ayaz and colleagues suggested recommendations to improve gender-based workplace violence, noting the complex and multifaceted aspects of enhancing current policies, fortifying institutional capacities to respond, and implementing tailored interventions. Changes are needed at various levels, including at the healthcare system and provincial, territorial, and national levels, she said.

In Canada, for instance, lawmakers passed a bill in 2021 that amended the national criminal code to make intimidation or bullying a healthcare worker punishable by as many as 10 years in prison. The changes also required courts to consider more serious penalties for offenders who target healthcare workers aggressively.

But more needs to be done, medical professional groups say. The Canadian Nurses Association and Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, as well as provincial groups, have called for a pan-Canadian violence-prevention framework, targeted funding for violence prevention infrastructure, and an update to the nation’s health human resources strategy to address severe staffing shortages across the country.

“Canada needs a bold vision for the future of our healthcare. Amid an ongoing staffing crisis, the cracks in our public healthcare systems have only grown deeper and wider, with too many going without the care they need when they need it,” Linda Silas, president of the Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, told this news organization.

“Access to care relies on safe staffing. Years of unsafe working conditions and insufficient staffing are pushing nurses out of our public healthcare system,” she said. “Working collaboratively, we can make healthcare jobs the best jobs in our communities.”

The authors received no specific funding for the study. Ms. Ayaz, Dr. Abrams, and Ms. Silas reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Across the world, healthcare workers experience workplace violence, which can differ by gender, seniority, and the type of workplace, according to a recent study.

An analysis found that men were more likely to report physical violence, while women were more likely to face nonphysical violence, such as verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying.

“Our study was sparked by the increasing research on workplace violence in healthcare settings. Yet, there’s less empirical data about workplace violence based on gender, its effects on individuals and the collective workforce, and its subsequent impact on patient care and healthcare organizations,” study author Basnama Ayaz, a PhD candidate in nursing at the University of Toronto, told this news organization.

“Workplace violence in healthcare settings is a critical issue that requires attention and action from all stakeholders, including individual providers, healthcare and other institutions, policymakers, and the community,” she said. “By recognizing the problem and implementing evidence-based solutions, we can create safer work environments that protect healthcare workers and improve quality care for patients and organizational effectiveness.”

The study was published online in PLOS Global Public Health.
 

Widespread and Severe

Although women represent most of the healthcare workforce worldwide, hierarchical structures tend to reflect traditional gender norms, where men hold leadership positions and women serve in front-line care roles, said Ms. Ayaz. Women are often marginalized, and their concerns dismissed, which can exacerbate their vulnerability to gender-based workplace violence, she added.

To better understand these imbalances on a global scale, the investigators conducted a scoping review of the prevalence of and risk factors for gender-based workplace violence in healthcare settings. Participants included physicians, nurses, and midwives, between 2010 and 2024. Although the authors acknowledged that gender-based workplace violence affects the full gender spectrum, only a handful of studies included information about nonbinary personnel, so the review focused on men and women.

Among 226 studies, half focused on physicians, 22% focused on nurses, and 28% included physicians, nurses, midwives, and other medical workers. About 64% of studies reported a higher prevalence of all forms of workplace violence for women, including sexual violence, verbal abuse, discrimination, bullying, and physical violence, while 17% reported a higher prevalence for men.

Overall, across most countries, men experienced more physical violence than did women, and women experienced more verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying. Female nurses were particularly likely to experience violence.

Healthcare workers were also more likely to experience violence if they were younger, less experienced, had a lower professional status, or were part of a minority group based on ethnicity, nationality, culture, or language. These factors were sensitive to gender, “reflecting women’s structural disadvantages in the workplace,” wrote the authors.

As a result of workplace violence, women were more likely to report changes in mental health and social behaviors, as well as dissatisfaction, burnout, and changes in their career goals.

The research team identified various factors linked to violent episodes. In clinical settings where most perpetrators were patients and their relatives, abuse and violence could be related to overcrowding, waiting time, and heavy workloads for healthcare providers. When supervisors or colleagues were the perpetrators, workplace violence appeared to be more likely with long hours, night shifts, and certain clinical settings, such as emergency departments, psychiatric settings, operating rooms, and maternity wards, said Ms. Ayaz. Sexual or gender harassment toward women was more prevalent in male-dominated surgical specialties.

“We were surprised by the extent and severity of workplace violence that healthcare workers face around the globe based on gender,” she said. “One aspect that stood out was the significant role that organizational culture and support systems play either in mitigating or exacerbating these incidents, particularly the power structures between and within professions.”

For instance, trainees in lower hierarchical positions often face a higher risk for violence, especially gender-based harassment, she said. Many times, they feel they can’t report these incidents to trainers or managers, who may also be the perpetrators, she added.
 

Addressing Systemic Issues

In 2002, the World Health Organization, International Council of Nurses, and other major medical and labor groups worldwide launched a program focused on ways to eliminate workplace violence in healthcare settings. Since 2020, the call for a solution has grown louder as clinicians, nurses, and other health professionals faced more physical and verbal violence during the COVID-19 pandemic, often leading to burnout.

“Workplace violence is very important because it is more prevalent in healthcare workers than in many other settings and is on the rise,” said Karen Abrams, MD, assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto. Dr. Abrams, who wasn’t involved with this study, has researched physicians’ experiences of stalking by patients.

Workplace violence “can affect physical and mental health and lead to burnout, depression, anxiety, and symptoms of PTSD,” said Dr. Abrams. “It can affect one’s sleep and concentration and, therefore, ability to perform one’s job.”

Dr. Ayaz and colleagues suggested recommendations to improve gender-based workplace violence, noting the complex and multifaceted aspects of enhancing current policies, fortifying institutional capacities to respond, and implementing tailored interventions. Changes are needed at various levels, including at the healthcare system and provincial, territorial, and national levels, she said.

In Canada, for instance, lawmakers passed a bill in 2021 that amended the national criminal code to make intimidation or bullying a healthcare worker punishable by as many as 10 years in prison. The changes also required courts to consider more serious penalties for offenders who target healthcare workers aggressively.

But more needs to be done, medical professional groups say. The Canadian Nurses Association and Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, as well as provincial groups, have called for a pan-Canadian violence-prevention framework, targeted funding for violence prevention infrastructure, and an update to the nation’s health human resources strategy to address severe staffing shortages across the country.

“Canada needs a bold vision for the future of our healthcare. Amid an ongoing staffing crisis, the cracks in our public healthcare systems have only grown deeper and wider, with too many going without the care they need when they need it,” Linda Silas, president of the Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, told this news organization.

“Access to care relies on safe staffing. Years of unsafe working conditions and insufficient staffing are pushing nurses out of our public healthcare system,” she said. “Working collaboratively, we can make healthcare jobs the best jobs in our communities.”

The authors received no specific funding for the study. Ms. Ayaz, Dr. Abrams, and Ms. Silas reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Across the world, healthcare workers experience workplace violence, which can differ by gender, seniority, and the type of workplace, according to a recent study.

An analysis found that men were more likely to report physical violence, while women were more likely to face nonphysical violence, such as verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying.

“Our study was sparked by the increasing research on workplace violence in healthcare settings. Yet, there’s less empirical data about workplace violence based on gender, its effects on individuals and the collective workforce, and its subsequent impact on patient care and healthcare organizations,” study author Basnama Ayaz, a PhD candidate in nursing at the University of Toronto, told this news organization.

“Workplace violence in healthcare settings is a critical issue that requires attention and action from all stakeholders, including individual providers, healthcare and other institutions, policymakers, and the community,” she said. “By recognizing the problem and implementing evidence-based solutions, we can create safer work environments that protect healthcare workers and improve quality care for patients and organizational effectiveness.”

The study was published online in PLOS Global Public Health.
 

Widespread and Severe

Although women represent most of the healthcare workforce worldwide, hierarchical structures tend to reflect traditional gender norms, where men hold leadership positions and women serve in front-line care roles, said Ms. Ayaz. Women are often marginalized, and their concerns dismissed, which can exacerbate their vulnerability to gender-based workplace violence, she added.

To better understand these imbalances on a global scale, the investigators conducted a scoping review of the prevalence of and risk factors for gender-based workplace violence in healthcare settings. Participants included physicians, nurses, and midwives, between 2010 and 2024. Although the authors acknowledged that gender-based workplace violence affects the full gender spectrum, only a handful of studies included information about nonbinary personnel, so the review focused on men and women.

Among 226 studies, half focused on physicians, 22% focused on nurses, and 28% included physicians, nurses, midwives, and other medical workers. About 64% of studies reported a higher prevalence of all forms of workplace violence for women, including sexual violence, verbal abuse, discrimination, bullying, and physical violence, while 17% reported a higher prevalence for men.

Overall, across most countries, men experienced more physical violence than did women, and women experienced more verbal abuse, sexual harassment, and bullying. Female nurses were particularly likely to experience violence.

Healthcare workers were also more likely to experience violence if they were younger, less experienced, had a lower professional status, or were part of a minority group based on ethnicity, nationality, culture, or language. These factors were sensitive to gender, “reflecting women’s structural disadvantages in the workplace,” wrote the authors.

As a result of workplace violence, women were more likely to report changes in mental health and social behaviors, as well as dissatisfaction, burnout, and changes in their career goals.

The research team identified various factors linked to violent episodes. In clinical settings where most perpetrators were patients and their relatives, abuse and violence could be related to overcrowding, waiting time, and heavy workloads for healthcare providers. When supervisors or colleagues were the perpetrators, workplace violence appeared to be more likely with long hours, night shifts, and certain clinical settings, such as emergency departments, psychiatric settings, operating rooms, and maternity wards, said Ms. Ayaz. Sexual or gender harassment toward women was more prevalent in male-dominated surgical specialties.

“We were surprised by the extent and severity of workplace violence that healthcare workers face around the globe based on gender,” she said. “One aspect that stood out was the significant role that organizational culture and support systems play either in mitigating or exacerbating these incidents, particularly the power structures between and within professions.”

For instance, trainees in lower hierarchical positions often face a higher risk for violence, especially gender-based harassment, she said. Many times, they feel they can’t report these incidents to trainers or managers, who may also be the perpetrators, she added.
 

Addressing Systemic Issues

In 2002, the World Health Organization, International Council of Nurses, and other major medical and labor groups worldwide launched a program focused on ways to eliminate workplace violence in healthcare settings. Since 2020, the call for a solution has grown louder as clinicians, nurses, and other health professionals faced more physical and verbal violence during the COVID-19 pandemic, often leading to burnout.

“Workplace violence is very important because it is more prevalent in healthcare workers than in many other settings and is on the rise,” said Karen Abrams, MD, assistant professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto. Dr. Abrams, who wasn’t involved with this study, has researched physicians’ experiences of stalking by patients.

Workplace violence “can affect physical and mental health and lead to burnout, depression, anxiety, and symptoms of PTSD,” said Dr. Abrams. “It can affect one’s sleep and concentration and, therefore, ability to perform one’s job.”

Dr. Ayaz and colleagues suggested recommendations to improve gender-based workplace violence, noting the complex and multifaceted aspects of enhancing current policies, fortifying institutional capacities to respond, and implementing tailored interventions. Changes are needed at various levels, including at the healthcare system and provincial, territorial, and national levels, she said.

In Canada, for instance, lawmakers passed a bill in 2021 that amended the national criminal code to make intimidation or bullying a healthcare worker punishable by as many as 10 years in prison. The changes also required courts to consider more serious penalties for offenders who target healthcare workers aggressively.

But more needs to be done, medical professional groups say. The Canadian Nurses Association and Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, as well as provincial groups, have called for a pan-Canadian violence-prevention framework, targeted funding for violence prevention infrastructure, and an update to the nation’s health human resources strategy to address severe staffing shortages across the country.

“Canada needs a bold vision for the future of our healthcare. Amid an ongoing staffing crisis, the cracks in our public healthcare systems have only grown deeper and wider, with too many going without the care they need when they need it,” Linda Silas, president of the Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions, told this news organization.

“Access to care relies on safe staffing. Years of unsafe working conditions and insufficient staffing are pushing nurses out of our public healthcare system,” she said. “Working collaboratively, we can make healthcare jobs the best jobs in our communities.”

The authors received no specific funding for the study. Ms. Ayaz, Dr. Abrams, and Ms. Silas reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Total mesometrial resection (TMMR) is associated with significantly longer recurrence-free survival (RFS) and overall survival (OS) than standard treatment for patients with early-stage cervical cancer, while outcomes were not different among those with locally advanced disease, according to a new study.

These findings suggest that TMMR may be considered a primary treatment option for both early-stage and locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment, reported lead author Henrik Falconer, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet, Stockholm, Sweden, and colleagues.
 

What is the rationale behind TMMR?

“Current international guidelines [for cervical cancer] are primarily based on retrospective case series and a small number of outdated randomized controlled trials,” the investigators wrote in EClinicalMedicine, part of The Lancet publication platform. “The stage-dependent treatment recommendations, with surgery advised for early-stage and radiation therapy for locally advanced disease, may be considered too simplistic, suggesting that early stages of cervical cancer cannot be controlled with surgical resection alone or that locally advanced cervical cancer is inoperable.”

This mindset, they noted, overlooks the complexities of cancer spread. In contrast, TMMR and similar surgical approaches based on the cancer field model are mapped along routes of locoregional dissemination, leading to “excellent local control” in more than 600 cases at the University Hospital of Leipzig, Leipzig, Germany.

To date, however, TMMR’s adoption has been limited, and it has not been compared directly with current guideline treatments, prompting the present study.
 

What methods were used to compare TMMR with standard treatment?

The study compared TMMR plus therapeutic lymph node dissection (tLND) without adjuvant radiation versus standard treatment (ST) for early-stage (FIGO 2009 IB1, IIA1) and locally advanced (FIGO 2009 IB2, IIA2, IIB) cervical cancer. Standard treatment for patients with early-stage disease involved radical hysterectomy and pelvic lymphadenectomy, with adjuvant chemoradiation dependent upon final pathology. Those with locally advanced disease received definitive chemoradiation.

Data for the standard treatment group were drawn from population-based registries in Sweden, while those for the TMMR group came from the Leipzig Mesometrial Resection Study Database. The final dataset included 1,007 women treated between 2011 and 2020, with 733 undergoing standard treatment and 274 receiving TMMR.

Outcomes included RFS and OS, adjusted for clinical and tumor-related variables.
 

How did TMMR compare with standard treatment?

TMMR was associated with superior oncologic outcomes compared with standard treatment for early-stage cervical cancer.

Specifically, 5-year RFS was 91.2% for TMMR versus 81.8% for standard therapy (P = .002). In the adjusted analysis, TMMR was associated with a significantly lower hazard of recurrence (hazard ratio [HR], 0.39; 95% CI, 0.22–0.69) and death (HR, 0.42; 95% CI, 0.21-0.86). Also favoring TMMR, absolute difference in the risk of recurrence at 5 years was 9.4% (95% CI 3.2–15.7). In addition, 5-year OS was better in the TMMR group, at 93.3%, compared with 90.3% for standard treatment (P = .034).

Among patients with locally advanced disease, no significant differences in RFS or OS were observed.
 

Are these data strong enough to make TMMR the new standard treatment?

Dr. Falconer and colleagues concluded that TMMR with tLND “may replace the standard treatment approach in early-stage cervical cancer and furthermore be evaluated as an option in locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment.”

While the investigators anticipated demands for randomized controlled trials, they questioned the value of such studies, suggesting that any control arm would be “based on inconsistent or flawed concepts.”

How does TMMR fit into the current treatment landscape for cervical cancer?

“This is a very niche surgery that most places don’t do,” Dr. Modesitt said.

She pointed out that “multiple variations” on the standard radical hysterectomy have been proposed in the past, such as the laterally extended endopelvic resection.

“[TMMR] is not a new concept,” she said. “It’s just a question of how radical it is.”

Instead of developing new types of radical surgery, she said, the trend in the United States is toward de-escalation of surgical treatments altogether, with greater reliance upon medical options, such as immunotherapy.

“[This study] is thought provoking, and I applaud them for doing it,” Dr. Modesitt said. “But I’m not going to go out and do that on my next patient.”

This study was supported by grants from Centre for Clinical Research Sörmland (Sweden) and Region Stockholm (Sweden). Dr. Falconer is a board member of Surgical Science.

Total mesometrial resection (TMMR) is associated with significantly longer recurrence-free survival (RFS) and overall survival (OS) than standard treatment for patients with early-stage cervical cancer, while outcomes were not different among those with locally advanced disease, according to a new study.

These findings suggest that TMMR may be considered a primary treatment option for both early-stage and locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment, reported lead author Henrik Falconer, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet, Stockholm, Sweden, and colleagues.
 

What is the rationale behind TMMR?

“Current international guidelines [for cervical cancer] are primarily based on retrospective case series and a small number of outdated randomized controlled trials,” the investigators wrote in EClinicalMedicine, part of The Lancet publication platform. “The stage-dependent treatment recommendations, with surgery advised for early-stage and radiation therapy for locally advanced disease, may be considered too simplistic, suggesting that early stages of cervical cancer cannot be controlled with surgical resection alone or that locally advanced cervical cancer is inoperable.”

This mindset, they noted, overlooks the complexities of cancer spread. In contrast, TMMR and similar surgical approaches based on the cancer field model are mapped along routes of locoregional dissemination, leading to “excellent local control” in more than 600 cases at the University Hospital of Leipzig, Leipzig, Germany.

To date, however, TMMR’s adoption has been limited, and it has not been compared directly with current guideline treatments, prompting the present study.
 

What methods were used to compare TMMR with standard treatment?

The study compared TMMR plus therapeutic lymph node dissection (tLND) without adjuvant radiation versus standard treatment (ST) for early-stage (FIGO 2009 IB1, IIA1) and locally advanced (FIGO 2009 IB2, IIA2, IIB) cervical cancer. Standard treatment for patients with early-stage disease involved radical hysterectomy and pelvic lymphadenectomy, with adjuvant chemoradiation dependent upon final pathology. Those with locally advanced disease received definitive chemoradiation.

Data for the standard treatment group were drawn from population-based registries in Sweden, while those for the TMMR group came from the Leipzig Mesometrial Resection Study Database. The final dataset included 1,007 women treated between 2011 and 2020, with 733 undergoing standard treatment and 274 receiving TMMR.

Outcomes included RFS and OS, adjusted for clinical and tumor-related variables.
 

How did TMMR compare with standard treatment?

TMMR was associated with superior oncologic outcomes compared with standard treatment for early-stage cervical cancer.

Specifically, 5-year RFS was 91.2% for TMMR versus 81.8% for standard therapy (P = .002). In the adjusted analysis, TMMR was associated with a significantly lower hazard of recurrence (hazard ratio [HR], 0.39; 95% CI, 0.22–0.69) and death (HR, 0.42; 95% CI, 0.21-0.86). Also favoring TMMR, absolute difference in the risk of recurrence at 5 years was 9.4% (95% CI 3.2–15.7). In addition, 5-year OS was better in the TMMR group, at 93.3%, compared with 90.3% for standard treatment (P = .034).

Among patients with locally advanced disease, no significant differences in RFS or OS were observed.
 

Are these data strong enough to make TMMR the new standard treatment?

Dr. Falconer and colleagues concluded that TMMR with tLND “may replace the standard treatment approach in early-stage cervical cancer and furthermore be evaluated as an option in locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment.”

While the investigators anticipated demands for randomized controlled trials, they questioned the value of such studies, suggesting that any control arm would be “based on inconsistent or flawed concepts.”

How does TMMR fit into the current treatment landscape for cervical cancer?

“This is a very niche surgery that most places don’t do,” Dr. Modesitt said.

She pointed out that “multiple variations” on the standard radical hysterectomy have been proposed in the past, such as the laterally extended endopelvic resection.

“[TMMR] is not a new concept,” she said. “It’s just a question of how radical it is.”

Instead of developing new types of radical surgery, she said, the trend in the United States is toward de-escalation of surgical treatments altogether, with greater reliance upon medical options, such as immunotherapy.

“[This study] is thought provoking, and I applaud them for doing it,” Dr. Modesitt said. “But I’m not going to go out and do that on my next patient.”

This study was supported by grants from Centre for Clinical Research Sörmland (Sweden) and Region Stockholm (Sweden). Dr. Falconer is a board member of Surgical Science.

Total mesometrial resection (TMMR) is associated with significantly longer recurrence-free survival (RFS) and overall survival (OS) than standard treatment for patients with early-stage cervical cancer, while outcomes were not different among those with locally advanced disease, according to a new study.

These findings suggest that TMMR may be considered a primary treatment option for both early-stage and locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment, reported lead author Henrik Falconer, MD, PhD, of Karolinska Institutet, Stockholm, Sweden, and colleagues.
 

What is the rationale behind TMMR?

“Current international guidelines [for cervical cancer] are primarily based on retrospective case series and a small number of outdated randomized controlled trials,” the investigators wrote in EClinicalMedicine, part of The Lancet publication platform. “The stage-dependent treatment recommendations, with surgery advised for early-stage and radiation therapy for locally advanced disease, may be considered too simplistic, suggesting that early stages of cervical cancer cannot be controlled with surgical resection alone or that locally advanced cervical cancer is inoperable.”

This mindset, they noted, overlooks the complexities of cancer spread. In contrast, TMMR and similar surgical approaches based on the cancer field model are mapped along routes of locoregional dissemination, leading to “excellent local control” in more than 600 cases at the University Hospital of Leipzig, Leipzig, Germany.

To date, however, TMMR’s adoption has been limited, and it has not been compared directly with current guideline treatments, prompting the present study.
 

What methods were used to compare TMMR with standard treatment?

The study compared TMMR plus therapeutic lymph node dissection (tLND) without adjuvant radiation versus standard treatment (ST) for early-stage (FIGO 2009 IB1, IIA1) and locally advanced (FIGO 2009 IB2, IIA2, IIB) cervical cancer. Standard treatment for patients with early-stage disease involved radical hysterectomy and pelvic lymphadenectomy, with adjuvant chemoradiation dependent upon final pathology. Those with locally advanced disease received definitive chemoradiation.

Data for the standard treatment group were drawn from population-based registries in Sweden, while those for the TMMR group came from the Leipzig Mesometrial Resection Study Database. The final dataset included 1,007 women treated between 2011 and 2020, with 733 undergoing standard treatment and 274 receiving TMMR.

Outcomes included RFS and OS, adjusted for clinical and tumor-related variables.
 

How did TMMR compare with standard treatment?

TMMR was associated with superior oncologic outcomes compared with standard treatment for early-stage cervical cancer.

Specifically, 5-year RFS was 91.2% for TMMR versus 81.8% for standard therapy (P = .002). In the adjusted analysis, TMMR was associated with a significantly lower hazard of recurrence (hazard ratio [HR], 0.39; 95% CI, 0.22–0.69) and death (HR, 0.42; 95% CI, 0.21-0.86). Also favoring TMMR, absolute difference in the risk of recurrence at 5 years was 9.4% (95% CI 3.2–15.7). In addition, 5-year OS was better in the TMMR group, at 93.3%, compared with 90.3% for standard treatment (P = .034).

Among patients with locally advanced disease, no significant differences in RFS or OS were observed.
 

Are these data strong enough to make TMMR the new standard treatment?

Dr. Falconer and colleagues concluded that TMMR with tLND “may replace the standard treatment approach in early-stage cervical cancer and furthermore be evaluated as an option in locally advanced cervical cancer confined to the Müllerian compartment.”

While the investigators anticipated demands for randomized controlled trials, they questioned the value of such studies, suggesting that any control arm would be “based on inconsistent or flawed concepts.”

How does TMMR fit into the current treatment landscape for cervical cancer?

“This is a very niche surgery that most places don’t do,” Dr. Modesitt said.

She pointed out that “multiple variations” on the standard radical hysterectomy have been proposed in the past, such as the laterally extended endopelvic resection.

“[TMMR] is not a new concept,” she said. “It’s just a question of how radical it is.”

Instead of developing new types of radical surgery, she said, the trend in the United States is toward de-escalation of surgical treatments altogether, with greater reliance upon medical options, such as immunotherapy.

“[This study] is thought provoking, and I applaud them for doing it,” Dr. Modesitt said. “But I’m not going to go out and do that on my next patient.”

This study was supported by grants from Centre for Clinical Research Sörmland (Sweden) and Region Stockholm (Sweden). Dr. Falconer is a board member of Surgical Science.

For 3 years, Ajala Efem’s type 2 diabetes was so poorly controlled that her blood sugar often soared northward of 500 mg/dL despite insulin shots three to five times a day. She would experience dizziness, vomiting, severe headaches, and the neuropathy in her feet made walking painful. She was also — literally — frothing at the mouth. The 47-year-old single mother of two adult children with mental disabilities feared that she would die.

Ms. Efem lives in the South Bronx, which is among the poorest areas of New York City, where the combined rate of prediabetes and diabetes is close to 30%, the highest rate of any borough in the city.

She had to wait 8 months for an appointment with an endocrinologist, but that visit proved to be life-changing. She lost 28 pounds and got off 15 medications in a single month. She did not join a gym or count calories; she simply changed the food she ate and adopted a low-carb diet.

“I went from being sick to feeling so great,” she told her endocrinologist recently: “My feet aren’t hurting; I’m not in pain; I’m eating as much as I want, and I really enjoy my food so much.” 

Ms. Efem’s life-changing visit was with Mariela Glandt, MD, at the offices of Essen Health Care. One month earlier, Dr. Glandt’s company, OwnaHealth, was contracted by Essen to conduct a 100-person pilot program for endocrinology patients. Essen is the largest Medicaid provider in New York City, and “they were desperate for an endocrinologist,” said Dr. Glandt, who trained at Columbia University in New York. So she came — all the way from Madrid, Spain. She commutes monthly, staying for a week each visit.

Dr. Glandt keeps up this punishing schedule because, as she explains, “it’s such a high for me to see these incredible transformations.” Her mostly Black and Hispanic patients are poor and lack resources, yet they lose significant amounts of weight, and their health issues resolve.

“Food is medicine” is an idea very much in vogue. The concept was central to the landmark White House Conference on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health in 2022 and is now the focus of a number of a wide range of government programs. Recently, the Senate held a hearing aimed at further expanding food as medicine programs.

Still, only a single randomized controlled clinical trial has been conducted on this nutritional approach, with unexpectedly disappointing results. In the mid-Atlantic region, 456 food-insecure adults with type 2 diabetes were randomly assigned to usual care or the provision of weekly groceries for their entire families for about 1 year. Provisions for a Mediterranean-style diet included whole grains, fruits and vegetables, lean protein, low-fat dairy products, cereal, brown rice, and bread. In addition, participants received dietary consultations. Yet, those who got free food and coaching did not see improvements in their average blood sugar (the study’s primary outcome), and their low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol and high-density lipoprotein (HDL) cholesterol levels appeared to have worsened. 

“To be honest, I was surprised,” the study’s lead author, Joseph Doyle, PhD, professor at the Sloan School of Management at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts, told me. “I was hoping we would show improved outcomes, but the way to make progress is to do well-randomized trials to find out what works.”

I was not surprised by these results because a recent rigorous systematic review and meta-analysis in The BMJ did not show a Mediterranean-style diet to be the most effective for glycemic control. And Ms. Efem was not in fact following a Mediterranean-style diet.

Ms. Efem’s low-carb success story is anecdotal, but Dr. Glandt has an established track record from her 9 years’ experience as the medical director of the eponymous diabetes center she founded in Tel Aviv. A recent audit of 344 patients from the center found that after 6 months of following a very low–carbohydrate diet, 96.3% of those with diabetes saw their A1c fall from a median 7.6% to 6.3%. Weight loss was significant, with a median drop of 6.5 kg (14 pounds) for patients with diabetes and 5.7 kg for those with prediabetes. The diet comprises 5%-10% of calories from carbs, but Dr. Glandt does not use numeric targets with her patients.

Blood pressure, triglycerides, and liver enzymes also improved. And though LDL cholesterol went up by 8%, this result may have been offset by an accompanying 13% rise in HDL cholesterol. Of the 78 patients initially on insulin, 62 were able to stop this medication entirely.

Although these results aren’t from a clinical trial, they’re still highly meaningful because the current dietary standard of care for type 2 diabetes can only slow the progression of the disease, not cause remission. Indeed, the idea that type 2 diabetes could be put into remission was not seriously considered by the American Diabetes Association (ADA) until 2009. By 2019, an ADA report concluded that “[r]educing overall carbohydrate intake for individuals with diabetes has demonstrated the most evidence for improving glycemia.” In other words, the best way to improve the key factor in diabetes is to reduce total carbohydrates. Yet, the ADA still advocates filling one quarter of one’s plate with carbohydrate-based foods, an amount that will prevent remission. Given that the ADA’s vision statement is “a life free of diabetes,” it seems negligent not to tell people with a deadly condition that they can reverse this diagnosis. 

A 2023 meta-analysis of 42 controlled clinical trials on 4809 patients showed that a very low–carbohydrate ketogenic diet (keto) was “superior” to alternatives for glycemic control. A more recent review of 11 clinical trials found that this diet was equal but not superior to other nutritional approaches in terms of blood sugar control, but this review also concluded that keto led to greater increases in HDL cholesterol and lower triglycerides. 

Dr. Glandt’s patients in the Bronx might not seem like obvious low-carb candidates. The diet is considered expensive and difficult to sustain. My interviews with a half dozen patients revealed some of these difficulties, but even for a woman living in a homeless shelter, the obstacles are not insurmountable.

Jerrilyn, who preferred that I use only her first name, lives in a shelter in Queens. While we strolled through a nearby park, she told me about her desire to lose weight and recover from polycystic ovary syndrome, which terrified her because it had caused dramatic hair loss. When she landed in Dr. Glandt’s office at age 28, she weighed 180 pounds. 

Less than 5 months later, Jerrilyn had lost 25 pounds, and her period had returned with some regularity. She said she used “food stamps,” known as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), to buy most of her food at local delis because the meals served at the shelter were too heavy in starches. She starts her day with eggs, turkey bacon, and avocado. 

“It was hard to give up carbohydrates because in my culture [Latina], we have nothing but carbs: rice, potatoes, yuca,” Jerrilyn shared. She noticed that carbs make her hungrier, but after 3 days of going low-carb, her cravings diminished. “It was like getting over an addiction,” she said.

Jerrilyn told me she’d seen many doctors but none as involved as Dr. Glandt. “It feels awesome to know that I have a lot of really useful information coming from her all the time.” The OwnaHealth app tracks weight, blood pressure, blood sugar, ketones, meals, mood, and cravings. Patients wear continuous glucose monitors and enter other information manually. Ketone bodies are used to measure dietary adherence and are obtained through finger pricks and test strips provided by OwnaHealth. Dr. Glandt gives patients her own food plan, along with free visual guides to low-carbohydrate foods by dietdoctor.com. 

Dr. Glandt also sends her patients for regular blood work. She says she does not frequently see a rise in LDL cholesterol, which can sometimes occur on a low-carbohydrate diet. This effect is most common among people who are lean and fit. She says she doesn’t discontinue statins unless cholesterol levels improve significantly.

Samuel Gonzalez, age 56, weighed 275 pounds when he walked into Dr. Glandt’s office this past November. His A1c was 9.2%, but none of his previous doctors had diagnosed him with diabetes. “I was like a walking bag of sugar!” he joked. 

A low-carbohydrate diet seemed absurd to a Puerto Rican like himself: “Having coffee without sugar? That’s like sacrilegious in my culture!” exclaimed Mr. Gonzalez. Still, he managed, with SNAP, to cook eggs and bacon for breakfast and some kind of protein for dinner. He keeps lunch light, “like tuna fish,” and finds checking in with the OwnaHealth app to be very helpful. “Every day, I’m on it,” he said. In the past 7 months, he’s lost 50 pounds, normalized his cholesterol and blood pressure levels, and lowered his A1c to 5.5%.

Mr. Gonzalez gets disability payments due to a back injury, and Ms. Efem receives government payments because her husband died serving in the military. Ms. Efem says her new diet challenges her budget, but Mr. Gonzalez says he manages easily.

Mélissa Cruz, a 28-year-old studying to be a nail technician while also doing back office work at a physical therapy practice, says she’s stretched thin. “I end up sad because I can’t put energy into looking up recipes and cooking for me and my boyfriend,” she told me. She’ll often cook rice and plantains for him and meat for herself, but “it’s frustrating when I’m low on funds and can’t figure out what to eat.” 

Low-carbohydrate diets have a reputation for being expensive because people often start eating pricier foods, like meat and cheese, to replace cheaper starchy foods such as pasta and rice. Eggs and ground beef are less expensive low-carb meal options, and meat, unlike fruits and vegetables, is easy to freeze and doesn’t spoil quickly. These advantages can add up.

A 2019 cost analysis published in Nutrition & Dietetics compared a low-carbohydrate dietary pattern with the New Zealand government’s recommended guidelines (which are almost identical to those in the United States) and found that it cost only an extra $1.27 in US dollars per person per day. One explanation is that protein and fat are more satiating than carbohydrates, so people who mostly consume these macronutrients often cut back on snacks like packaged chips, crackers, and even fruits. Also, those on a ketogenic diet usually cut down on medications, so the additional $1.27 daily is likely offset by reduced spending at the pharmacy.

It’s not just Bronx residents with low socioeconomic status (SES) who adapt well to low-carbohydrate diets. Among Alabama state employees with diabetes enrolled in a low-carbohydrate dietary program provided by a company called Virta, the low SES population had the best outcomes. Virta also published survey data in 2023 showing that participants in a program with the Veteran’s Administration did not find additional costs to be an obstacle to dietary adherence. In fact, some participants saw cost reductions due to decreased spending on processed snacks and fast foods.

Ms. Cruz told me she struggles financially, yet she’s still lost nearly 30 pounds in 5 months, and her A1c went from 7.1% down to 5.9%, putting her diabetes into remission. Equally motivating for her are the improvements she’s seen in other hormonal issues. Since childhood, she’s had acanthosis, a condition that causes the skin to darken in velvety patches, and more recently, she developed severe hirsutism to the point of growing sideburns. “I had tried going vegan and fasting, but these just weren’t sustainable for me, and I was so overwhelmed with counting calories all the time.” Now, on a low-carbohydrate diet, which doesn’t require calorie counting, she’s finally seeing both these conditions improve significantly.

When I last checked in with Ms. Cruz, she said she had “kind of ghosted” Dr. Glandt due to her work and school constraints, but she hadn’t abandoned the diet. She appreciated, too, that Dr. Glandt had not given up on her and kept calling and messaging. “She’s not at all like a typical doctor who would just tell me to lose weight and shake their head at me,” Ms. Cruz said. 

Because Dr. Glandt’s approach is time-intensive and high-touch, it might seem impractical to scale up, but Dr. Glandt’s app uses artificial intelligence to help with communications thus allowing her, with help from part-time health coaches, to care for patients. 

This early success in one of the United States’ poorest and sickest neighborhoods should give us hope that type 2 diabetes need not to be a progressive irreversible disease, even among the disadvantaged. 

OwnaHealth’s track record, along with that of Virta and other similar low-carbohydrate medical practices also give hope to the food-is-medicine idea. Diabetes can go into remission, and people can be healed, provided that health practitioners prescribe the right foods. And in truth, it’s not a diet. It’s a way of eating that must be maintained. The sustainability of low-carbohydrate diets has been a point of contention, but the Virta trial, with 38% of patients sustaining remission at 2 years, showed that it’s possible. (OwnaHealth, for its part, offers long-term maintenance plans to help patients stay very low-carb permanently.) 

Given the tremendous costs and health burden of diabetes, this approach should no doubt be the first line of treatment for doctors and the ADA. The past two decades of clinical trial research have demonstrated that remission of type 2 diabetes is possible through diet alone. It turns out that for metabolic diseases, only certain foods are truly medicine. 
 

Tools and Tips for Clinicians: 

• Free two-page keto starter’s guide by OwnaHealth; Dr. Glandt uses this guide with her patients.
• Illustrated low-carb guides by dietdoctor.com
• Free low-carbohydrate starter guide by the Michigan Collaborative for Type 2 Diabetes
• Low-Carb for Any Budget, a free digital booklet by Mark Cucuzzella, MD, and Kristie Sullivan, PhD
• Recipe and meal ideas from Ruled.me, Keto-Mojo.com, and 

Dr. Teicholz is the founder of Nutrition Coalition, an independent nonprofit dedicated to ensuring that US dietary guidelines align with current science. She disclosed receiving book royalties from The Big Fat Surprise, and received honorarium not exceeding $2000 for speeches from various sources.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

For 3 years, Ajala Efem’s type 2 diabetes was so poorly controlled that her blood sugar often soared northward of 500 mg/dL despite insulin shots three to five times a day. She would experience dizziness, vomiting, severe headaches, and the neuropathy in her feet made walking painful. She was also — literally — frothing at the mouth. The 47-year-old single mother of two adult children with mental disabilities feared that she would die.

Ms. Efem lives in the South Bronx, which is among the poorest areas of New York City, where the combined rate of prediabetes and diabetes is close to 30%, the highest rate of any borough in the city.

She had to wait 8 months for an appointment with an endocrinologist, but that visit proved to be life-changing. She lost 28 pounds and got off 15 medications in a single month. She did not join a gym or count calories; she simply changed the food she ate and adopted a low-carb diet.

“I went from being sick to feeling so great,” she told her endocrinologist recently: “My feet aren’t hurting; I’m not in pain; I’m eating as much as I want, and I really enjoy my food so much.” 

Ms. Efem’s life-changing visit was with Mariela Glandt, MD, at the offices of Essen Health Care. One month earlier, Dr. Glandt’s company, OwnaHealth, was contracted by Essen to conduct a 100-person pilot program for endocrinology patients. Essen is the largest Medicaid provider in New York City, and “they were desperate for an endocrinologist,” said Dr. Glandt, who trained at Columbia University in New York. So she came — all the way from Madrid, Spain. She commutes monthly, staying for a week each visit.

Dr. Glandt keeps up this punishing schedule because, as she explains, “it’s such a high for me to see these incredible transformations.” Her mostly Black and Hispanic patients are poor and lack resources, yet they lose significant amounts of weight, and their health issues resolve.

“Food is medicine” is an idea very much in vogue. The concept was central to the landmark White House Conference on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health in 2022 and is now the focus of a number of a wide range of government programs. Recently, the Senate held a hearing aimed at further expanding food as medicine programs.

Still, only a single randomized controlled clinical trial has been conducted on this nutritional approach, with unexpectedly disappointing results. In the mid-Atlantic region, 456 food-insecure adults with type 2 diabetes were randomly assigned to usual care or the provision of weekly groceries for their entire families for about 1 year. Provisions for a Mediterranean-style diet included whole grains, fruits and vegetables, lean protein, low-fat dairy products, cereal, brown rice, and bread. In addition, participants received dietary consultations. Yet, those who got free food and coaching did not see improvements in their average blood sugar (the study’s primary outcome), and their low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol and high-density lipoprotein (HDL) cholesterol levels appeared to have worsened. 

“To be honest, I was surprised,” the study’s lead author, Joseph Doyle, PhD, professor at the Sloan School of Management at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts, told me. “I was hoping we would show improved outcomes, but the way to make progress is to do well-randomized trials to find out what works.”

I was not surprised by these results because a recent rigorous systematic review and meta-analysis in The BMJ did not show a Mediterranean-style diet to be the most effective for glycemic control. And Ms. Efem was not in fact following a Mediterranean-style diet.

Ms. Efem’s low-carb success story is anecdotal, but Dr. Glandt has an established track record from her 9 years’ experience as the medical director of the eponymous diabetes center she founded in Tel Aviv. A recent audit of 344 patients from the center found that after 6 months of following a very low–carbohydrate diet, 96.3% of those with diabetes saw their A1c fall from a median 7.6% to 6.3%. Weight loss was significant, with a median drop of 6.5 kg (14 pounds) for patients with diabetes and 5.7 kg for those with prediabetes. The diet comprises 5%-10% of calories from carbs, but Dr. Glandt does not use numeric targets with her patients.

Blood pressure, triglycerides, and liver enzymes also improved. And though LDL cholesterol went up by 8%, this result may have been offset by an accompanying 13% rise in HDL cholesterol. Of the 78 patients initially on insulin, 62 were able to stop this medication entirely.

Although these results aren’t from a clinical trial, they’re still highly meaningful because the current dietary standard of care for type 2 diabetes can only slow the progression of the disease, not cause remission. Indeed, the idea that type 2 diabetes could be put into remission was not seriously considered by the American Diabetes Association (ADA) until 2009. By 2019, an ADA report concluded that “[r]educing overall carbohydrate intake for individuals with diabetes has demonstrated the most evidence for improving glycemia.” In other words, the best way to improve the key factor in diabetes is to reduce total carbohydrates. Yet, the ADA still advocates filling one quarter of one’s plate with carbohydrate-based foods, an amount that will prevent remission. Given that the ADA’s vision statement is “a life free of diabetes,” it seems negligent not to tell people with a deadly condition that they can reverse this diagnosis. 

A 2023 meta-analysis of 42 controlled clinical trials on 4809 patients showed that a very low–carbohydrate ketogenic diet (keto) was “superior” to alternatives for glycemic control. A more recent review of 11 clinical trials found that this diet was equal but not superior to other nutritional approaches in terms of blood sugar control, but this review also concluded that keto led to greater increases in HDL cholesterol and lower triglycerides. 

Dr. Glandt’s patients in the Bronx might not seem like obvious low-carb candidates. The diet is considered expensive and difficult to sustain. My interviews with a half dozen patients revealed some of these difficulties, but even for a woman living in a homeless shelter, the obstacles are not insurmountable.

Jerrilyn, who preferred that I use only her first name, lives in a shelter in Queens. While we strolled through a nearby park, she told me about her desire to lose weight and recover from polycystic ovary syndrome, which terrified her because it had caused dramatic hair loss. When she landed in Dr. Glandt’s office at age 28, she weighed 180 pounds. 

Less than 5 months later, Jerrilyn had lost 25 pounds, and her period had returned with some regularity. She said she used “food stamps,” known as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), to buy most of her food at local delis because the meals served at the shelter were too heavy in starches. She starts her day with eggs, turkey bacon, and avocado. 

“It was hard to give up carbohydrates because in my culture [Latina], we have nothing but carbs: rice, potatoes, yuca,” Jerrilyn shared. She noticed that carbs make her hungrier, but after 3 days of going low-carb, her cravings diminished. “It was like getting over an addiction,” she said.

Jerrilyn told me she’d seen many doctors but none as involved as Dr. Glandt. “It feels awesome to know that I have a lot of really useful information coming from her all the time.” The OwnaHealth app tracks weight, blood pressure, blood sugar, ketones, meals, mood, and cravings. Patients wear continuous glucose monitors and enter other information manually. Ketone bodies are used to measure dietary adherence and are obtained through finger pricks and test strips provided by OwnaHealth. Dr. Glandt gives patients her own food plan, along with free visual guides to low-carbohydrate foods by dietdoctor.com. 

Dr. Glandt also sends her patients for regular blood work. She says she does not frequently see a rise in LDL cholesterol, which can sometimes occur on a low-carbohydrate diet. This effect is most common among people who are lean and fit. She says she doesn’t discontinue statins unless cholesterol levels improve significantly.

Samuel Gonzalez, age 56, weighed 275 pounds when he walked into Dr. Glandt’s office this past November. His A1c was 9.2%, but none of his previous doctors had diagnosed him with diabetes. “I was like a walking bag of sugar!” he joked. 

A low-carbohydrate diet seemed absurd to a Puerto Rican like himself: “Having coffee without sugar? That’s like sacrilegious in my culture!” exclaimed Mr. Gonzalez. Still, he managed, with SNAP, to cook eggs and bacon for breakfast and some kind of protein for dinner. He keeps lunch light, “like tuna fish,” and finds checking in with the OwnaHealth app to be very helpful. “Every day, I’m on it,” he said. In the past 7 months, he’s lost 50 pounds, normalized his cholesterol and blood pressure levels, and lowered his A1c to 5.5%.

Mr. Gonzalez gets disability payments due to a back injury, and Ms. Efem receives government payments because her husband died serving in the military. Ms. Efem says her new diet challenges her budget, but Mr. Gonzalez says he manages easily.

Mélissa Cruz, a 28-year-old studying to be a nail technician while also doing back office work at a physical therapy practice, says she’s stretched thin. “I end up sad because I can’t put energy into looking up recipes and cooking for me and my boyfriend,” she told me. She’ll often cook rice and plantains for him and meat for herself, but “it’s frustrating when I’m low on funds and can’t figure out what to eat.” 

Low-carbohydrate diets have a reputation for being expensive because people often start eating pricier foods, like meat and cheese, to replace cheaper starchy foods such as pasta and rice. Eggs and ground beef are less expensive low-carb meal options, and meat, unlike fruits and vegetables, is easy to freeze and doesn’t spoil quickly. These advantages can add up.

A 2019 cost analysis published in Nutrition & Dietetics compared a low-carbohydrate dietary pattern with the New Zealand government’s recommended guidelines (which are almost identical to those in the United States) and found that it cost only an extra $1.27 in US dollars per person per day. One explanation is that protein and fat are more satiating than carbohydrates, so people who mostly consume these macronutrients often cut back on snacks like packaged chips, crackers, and even fruits. Also, those on a ketogenic diet usually cut down on medications, so the additional $1.27 daily is likely offset by reduced spending at the pharmacy.

It’s not just Bronx residents with low socioeconomic status (SES) who adapt well to low-carbohydrate diets. Among Alabama state employees with diabetes enrolled in a low-carbohydrate dietary program provided by a company called Virta, the low SES population had the best outcomes. Virta also published survey data in 2023 showing that participants in a program with the Veteran’s Administration did not find additional costs to be an obstacle to dietary adherence. In fact, some participants saw cost reductions due to decreased spending on processed snacks and fast foods.

Ms. Cruz told me she struggles financially, yet she’s still lost nearly 30 pounds in 5 months, and her A1c went from 7.1% down to 5.9%, putting her diabetes into remission. Equally motivating for her are the improvements she’s seen in other hormonal issues. Since childhood, she’s had acanthosis, a condition that causes the skin to darken in velvety patches, and more recently, she developed severe hirsutism to the point of growing sideburns. “I had tried going vegan and fasting, but these just weren’t sustainable for me, and I was so overwhelmed with counting calories all the time.” Now, on a low-carbohydrate diet, which doesn’t require calorie counting, she’s finally seeing both these conditions improve significantly.

When I last checked in with Ms. Cruz, she said she had “kind of ghosted” Dr. Glandt due to her work and school constraints, but she hadn’t abandoned the diet. She appreciated, too, that Dr. Glandt had not given up on her and kept calling and messaging. “She’s not at all like a typical doctor who would just tell me to lose weight and shake their head at me,” Ms. Cruz said. 

Because Dr. Glandt’s approach is time-intensive and high-touch, it might seem impractical to scale up, but Dr. Glandt’s app uses artificial intelligence to help with communications thus allowing her, with help from part-time health coaches, to care for patients. 

This early success in one of the United States’ poorest and sickest neighborhoods should give us hope that type 2 diabetes need not to be a progressive irreversible disease, even among the disadvantaged. 

OwnaHealth’s track record, along with that of Virta and other similar low-carbohydrate medical practices also give hope to the food-is-medicine idea. Diabetes can go into remission, and people can be healed, provided that health practitioners prescribe the right foods. And in truth, it’s not a diet. It’s a way of eating that must be maintained. The sustainability of low-carbohydrate diets has been a point of contention, but the Virta trial, with 38% of patients sustaining remission at 2 years, showed that it’s possible. (OwnaHealth, for its part, offers long-term maintenance plans to help patients stay very low-carb permanently.) 

Given the tremendous costs and health burden of diabetes, this approach should no doubt be the first line of treatment for doctors and the ADA. The past two decades of clinical trial research have demonstrated that remission of type 2 diabetes is possible through diet alone. It turns out that for metabolic diseases, only certain foods are truly medicine. 
 

Tools and Tips for Clinicians: 

• Free two-page keto starter’s guide by OwnaHealth; Dr. Glandt uses this guide with her patients.
• Illustrated low-carb guides by dietdoctor.com
• Free low-carbohydrate starter guide by the Michigan Collaborative for Type 2 Diabetes
• Low-Carb for Any Budget, a free digital booklet by Mark Cucuzzella, MD, and Kristie Sullivan, PhD
• Recipe and meal ideas from Ruled.me, Keto-Mojo.com, and 

Dr. Teicholz is the founder of Nutrition Coalition, an independent nonprofit dedicated to ensuring that US dietary guidelines align with current science. She disclosed receiving book royalties from The Big Fat Surprise, and received honorarium not exceeding $2000 for speeches from various sources.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

For 3 years, Ajala Efem’s type 2 diabetes was so poorly controlled that her blood sugar often soared northward of 500 mg/dL despite insulin shots three to five times a day. She would experience dizziness, vomiting, severe headaches, and the neuropathy in her feet made walking painful. She was also — literally — frothing at the mouth. The 47-year-old single mother of two adult children with mental disabilities feared that she would die.

Ms. Efem lives in the South Bronx, which is among the poorest areas of New York City, where the combined rate of prediabetes and diabetes is close to 30%, the highest rate of any borough in the city.

She had to wait 8 months for an appointment with an endocrinologist, but that visit proved to be life-changing. She lost 28 pounds and got off 15 medications in a single month. She did not join a gym or count calories; she simply changed the food she ate and adopted a low-carb diet.

“I went from being sick to feeling so great,” she told her endocrinologist recently: “My feet aren’t hurting; I’m not in pain; I’m eating as much as I want, and I really enjoy my food so much.” 

Ms. Efem’s life-changing visit was with Mariela Glandt, MD, at the offices of Essen Health Care. One month earlier, Dr. Glandt’s company, OwnaHealth, was contracted by Essen to conduct a 100-person pilot program for endocrinology patients. Essen is the largest Medicaid provider in New York City, and “they were desperate for an endocrinologist,” said Dr. Glandt, who trained at Columbia University in New York. So she came — all the way from Madrid, Spain. She commutes monthly, staying for a week each visit.

Dr. Glandt keeps up this punishing schedule because, as she explains, “it’s such a high for me to see these incredible transformations.” Her mostly Black and Hispanic patients are poor and lack resources, yet they lose significant amounts of weight, and their health issues resolve.

“Food is medicine” is an idea very much in vogue. The concept was central to the landmark White House Conference on Hunger, Nutrition, and Health in 2022 and is now the focus of a number of a wide range of government programs. Recently, the Senate held a hearing aimed at further expanding food as medicine programs.

Still, only a single randomized controlled clinical trial has been conducted on this nutritional approach, with unexpectedly disappointing results. In the mid-Atlantic region, 456 food-insecure adults with type 2 diabetes were randomly assigned to usual care or the provision of weekly groceries for their entire families for about 1 year. Provisions for a Mediterranean-style diet included whole grains, fruits and vegetables, lean protein, low-fat dairy products, cereal, brown rice, and bread. In addition, participants received dietary consultations. Yet, those who got free food and coaching did not see improvements in their average blood sugar (the study’s primary outcome), and their low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol and high-density lipoprotein (HDL) cholesterol levels appeared to have worsened. 

“To be honest, I was surprised,” the study’s lead author, Joseph Doyle, PhD, professor at the Sloan School of Management at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts, told me. “I was hoping we would show improved outcomes, but the way to make progress is to do well-randomized trials to find out what works.”

I was not surprised by these results because a recent rigorous systematic review and meta-analysis in The BMJ did not show a Mediterranean-style diet to be the most effective for glycemic control. And Ms. Efem was not in fact following a Mediterranean-style diet.

Ms. Efem’s low-carb success story is anecdotal, but Dr. Glandt has an established track record from her 9 years’ experience as the medical director of the eponymous diabetes center she founded in Tel Aviv. A recent audit of 344 patients from the center found that after 6 months of following a very low–carbohydrate diet, 96.3% of those with diabetes saw their A1c fall from a median 7.6% to 6.3%. Weight loss was significant, with a median drop of 6.5 kg (14 pounds) for patients with diabetes and 5.7 kg for those with prediabetes. The diet comprises 5%-10% of calories from carbs, but Dr. Glandt does not use numeric targets with her patients.

Blood pressure, triglycerides, and liver enzymes also improved. And though LDL cholesterol went up by 8%, this result may have been offset by an accompanying 13% rise in HDL cholesterol. Of the 78 patients initially on insulin, 62 were able to stop this medication entirely.

Although these results aren’t from a clinical trial, they’re still highly meaningful because the current dietary standard of care for type 2 diabetes can only slow the progression of the disease, not cause remission. Indeed, the idea that type 2 diabetes could be put into remission was not seriously considered by the American Diabetes Association (ADA) until 2009. By 2019, an ADA report concluded that “[r]educing overall carbohydrate intake for individuals with diabetes has demonstrated the most evidence for improving glycemia.” In other words, the best way to improve the key factor in diabetes is to reduce total carbohydrates. Yet, the ADA still advocates filling one quarter of one’s plate with carbohydrate-based foods, an amount that will prevent remission. Given that the ADA’s vision statement is “a life free of diabetes,” it seems negligent not to tell people with a deadly condition that they can reverse this diagnosis. 

A 2023 meta-analysis of 42 controlled clinical trials on 4809 patients showed that a very low–carbohydrate ketogenic diet (keto) was “superior” to alternatives for glycemic control. A more recent review of 11 clinical trials found that this diet was equal but not superior to other nutritional approaches in terms of blood sugar control, but this review also concluded that keto led to greater increases in HDL cholesterol and lower triglycerides. 

Dr. Glandt’s patients in the Bronx might not seem like obvious low-carb candidates. The diet is considered expensive and difficult to sustain. My interviews with a half dozen patients revealed some of these difficulties, but even for a woman living in a homeless shelter, the obstacles are not insurmountable.

Jerrilyn, who preferred that I use only her first name, lives in a shelter in Queens. While we strolled through a nearby park, she told me about her desire to lose weight and recover from polycystic ovary syndrome, which terrified her because it had caused dramatic hair loss. When she landed in Dr. Glandt’s office at age 28, she weighed 180 pounds. 

Less than 5 months later, Jerrilyn had lost 25 pounds, and her period had returned with some regularity. She said she used “food stamps,” known as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), to buy most of her food at local delis because the meals served at the shelter were too heavy in starches. She starts her day with eggs, turkey bacon, and avocado. 

“It was hard to give up carbohydrates because in my culture [Latina], we have nothing but carbs: rice, potatoes, yuca,” Jerrilyn shared. She noticed that carbs make her hungrier, but after 3 days of going low-carb, her cravings diminished. “It was like getting over an addiction,” she said.

Jerrilyn told me she’d seen many doctors but none as involved as Dr. Glandt. “It feels awesome to know that I have a lot of really useful information coming from her all the time.” The OwnaHealth app tracks weight, blood pressure, blood sugar, ketones, meals, mood, and cravings. Patients wear continuous glucose monitors and enter other information manually. Ketone bodies are used to measure dietary adherence and are obtained through finger pricks and test strips provided by OwnaHealth. Dr. Glandt gives patients her own food plan, along with free visual guides to low-carbohydrate foods by dietdoctor.com. 

Dr. Glandt also sends her patients for regular blood work. She says she does not frequently see a rise in LDL cholesterol, which can sometimes occur on a low-carbohydrate diet. This effect is most common among people who are lean and fit. She says she doesn’t discontinue statins unless cholesterol levels improve significantly.

Samuel Gonzalez, age 56, weighed 275 pounds when he walked into Dr. Glandt’s office this past November. His A1c was 9.2%, but none of his previous doctors had diagnosed him with diabetes. “I was like a walking bag of sugar!” he joked. 

A low-carbohydrate diet seemed absurd to a Puerto Rican like himself: “Having coffee without sugar? That’s like sacrilegious in my culture!” exclaimed Mr. Gonzalez. Still, he managed, with SNAP, to cook eggs and bacon for breakfast and some kind of protein for dinner. He keeps lunch light, “like tuna fish,” and finds checking in with the OwnaHealth app to be very helpful. “Every day, I’m on it,” he said. In the past 7 months, he’s lost 50 pounds, normalized his cholesterol and blood pressure levels, and lowered his A1c to 5.5%.

Mr. Gonzalez gets disability payments due to a back injury, and Ms. Efem receives government payments because her husband died serving in the military. Ms. Efem says her new diet challenges her budget, but Mr. Gonzalez says he manages easily.

Mélissa Cruz, a 28-year-old studying to be a nail technician while also doing back office work at a physical therapy practice, says she’s stretched thin. “I end up sad because I can’t put energy into looking up recipes and cooking for me and my boyfriend,” she told me. She’ll often cook rice and plantains for him and meat for herself, but “it’s frustrating when I’m low on funds and can’t figure out what to eat.” 

Low-carbohydrate diets have a reputation for being expensive because people often start eating pricier foods, like meat and cheese, to replace cheaper starchy foods such as pasta and rice. Eggs and ground beef are less expensive low-carb meal options, and meat, unlike fruits and vegetables, is easy to freeze and doesn’t spoil quickly. These advantages can add up.

A 2019 cost analysis published in Nutrition & Dietetics compared a low-carbohydrate dietary pattern with the New Zealand government’s recommended guidelines (which are almost identical to those in the United States) and found that it cost only an extra $1.27 in US dollars per person per day. One explanation is that protein and fat are more satiating than carbohydrates, so people who mostly consume these macronutrients often cut back on snacks like packaged chips, crackers, and even fruits. Also, those on a ketogenic diet usually cut down on medications, so the additional $1.27 daily is likely offset by reduced spending at the pharmacy.

It’s not just Bronx residents with low socioeconomic status (SES) who adapt well to low-carbohydrate diets. Among Alabama state employees with diabetes enrolled in a low-carbohydrate dietary program provided by a company called Virta, the low SES population had the best outcomes. Virta also published survey data in 2023 showing that participants in a program with the Veteran’s Administration did not find additional costs to be an obstacle to dietary adherence. In fact, some participants saw cost reductions due to decreased spending on processed snacks and fast foods.

Ms. Cruz told me she struggles financially, yet she’s still lost nearly 30 pounds in 5 months, and her A1c went from 7.1% down to 5.9%, putting her diabetes into remission. Equally motivating for her are the improvements she’s seen in other hormonal issues. Since childhood, she’s had acanthosis, a condition that causes the skin to darken in velvety patches, and more recently, she developed severe hirsutism to the point of growing sideburns. “I had tried going vegan and fasting, but these just weren’t sustainable for me, and I was so overwhelmed with counting calories all the time.” Now, on a low-carbohydrate diet, which doesn’t require calorie counting, she’s finally seeing both these conditions improve significantly.

When I last checked in with Ms. Cruz, she said she had “kind of ghosted” Dr. Glandt due to her work and school constraints, but she hadn’t abandoned the diet. She appreciated, too, that Dr. Glandt had not given up on her and kept calling and messaging. “She’s not at all like a typical doctor who would just tell me to lose weight and shake their head at me,” Ms. Cruz said. 

Because Dr. Glandt’s approach is time-intensive and high-touch, it might seem impractical to scale up, but Dr. Glandt’s app uses artificial intelligence to help with communications thus allowing her, with help from part-time health coaches, to care for patients. 

This early success in one of the United States’ poorest and sickest neighborhoods should give us hope that type 2 diabetes need not to be a progressive irreversible disease, even among the disadvantaged. 

OwnaHealth’s track record, along with that of Virta and other similar low-carbohydrate medical practices also give hope to the food-is-medicine idea. Diabetes can go into remission, and people can be healed, provided that health practitioners prescribe the right foods. And in truth, it’s not a diet. It’s a way of eating that must be maintained. The sustainability of low-carbohydrate diets has been a point of contention, but the Virta trial, with 38% of patients sustaining remission at 2 years, showed that it’s possible. (OwnaHealth, for its part, offers long-term maintenance plans to help patients stay very low-carb permanently.) 

Given the tremendous costs and health burden of diabetes, this approach should no doubt be the first line of treatment for doctors and the ADA. The past two decades of clinical trial research have demonstrated that remission of type 2 diabetes is possible through diet alone. It turns out that for metabolic diseases, only certain foods are truly medicine. 
 

Tools and Tips for Clinicians: 

• Free two-page keto starter’s guide by OwnaHealth; Dr. Glandt uses this guide with her patients.
• Illustrated low-carb guides by dietdoctor.com
• Free low-carbohydrate starter guide by the Michigan Collaborative for Type 2 Diabetes
• Low-Carb for Any Budget, a free digital booklet by Mark Cucuzzella, MD, and Kristie Sullivan, PhD
• Recipe and meal ideas from Ruled.me, Keto-Mojo.com, and 

Dr. Teicholz is the founder of Nutrition Coalition, an independent nonprofit dedicated to ensuring that US dietary guidelines align with current science. She disclosed receiving book royalties from The Big Fat Surprise, and received honorarium not exceeding $2000 for speeches from various sources.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published in Dr. Glasser’s bimonthly column in The Jolt, a nonprofit online news organization based in Olympia, Washington. She was inspired to write her story after meeting Christine Laine, MD, one of three female physician presenters at the Sommer Lectures in Portland, Oregon, in May 2024. The article has been edited lightly from the original. 

Primary care internal medicine — the medical field I chose, loved, and practiced for four decades — is dead. 

The grief and shock I feel about this is personal and transpersonal. The loss of internists (internal medicine physicians) practicing primary care is a major loss to us all. 

From the 1970s to roughly 2020, there were three groups of primary care physicians: family practice, pediatricians, and internists. In their 3-year residencies (after 4 years of medical school), pediatricians trained to care for children and adolescents; internists for adults; and FPs for children, adults, and women and pregnancy. Family practitioners are the most general of the generalists, whereas the others’ training involves comprehensive care of complex patients in their age groups.

How and when the field of primary care internal medicine flourished is my story. 

I was one of those kids who was hyperfocused on science, math, and the human body. By the end of high school, I was considering medicine for my career. 

To learn more, I volunteered at the local hospital. In my typical style, I requested not to be one of those candy stripers serving drinks on the wards. Instead, they put me in the emergency department, where I would transport patients and clean the stretchers. There I was free to watch whatever was going on if I did not interfere with the staff. On my first shift, a 20-year-old drowning victim arrived by ambulance. I watched the entire unsuccessful resuscitation and as shocked and saddened as I was, I knew (in the way only a headstrong 18-year-old can) that medicine was for me. 

It was a fortuitous time to graduate as a female pre-med student. 

In 1975, our country was in the midst of the women’s movement and a national effort to train primary care physicians. I was accepted to my state medical school. The University of Massachusetts Medical School had been established a few years earlier, with its main purpose to train primary care physicians and spread them around the state (especially out of the Boston metropolitan area). The curriculum was designed to expose students to primary care from year one. I was assigned to shadow a general practice physician in inner-city Springfield who saw over 50 patients a day! The patients knew they could see and afford him, so they crammed into his waiting room until their name was called in order of their arrival. No appointments necessary. His chart notes were a few scribbled sentences. I didn’t see myself in that practice exactly, but his work ethic and dedication inspired me. 

Over half of our graduating class chose to train in primary care specialties, and most stayed in-state. It turned out to be a good bet on the part of the government of Massachusetts. 

When I applied for residency in 1980, several internal medicine programs had a focus on primary care, which was my goal. I matched at Providence St. Vincent Hospital in Portland, Oregon, and moved across the country to the Pacific Northwest, never to look back. There, my attendings were doctors like I wanted to be: primary care internists in the community, not in academia. It was the perfect choice and an excellent training program. 

In 1984, I hung out my private practice internal medicine shingle in Hillsboro, Oregon, across the street from the community hospital. My primary care internal medicine colleagues and I shared weekend calls and admitted and cared for our patients in the hospital, and when they were discharged. That is now called “continuity of care.” It was a time when we ate in the doctors’ lounge together, met in hallways, and informally consulted each other about our patients. These were called “curbside consults.” They were invaluable to our ability to provide comprehensive care to our patients in primary care, led to fewer specialty referrals, and were free. That would now be called interprofessional communication and collegiality. 

“Burnout” was not a word you heard. We were busy and happy doing what we had spent 12 years of our precious youth to prepare for. 

What did internists offer to primary care? That also is part of my story. 

When I moved to Olympia, I took a position in the women’s health clinic at the American Lake Veterans Administration Medical Center. 

We were a small group: two family practice doctors, three nurse practitioners, and me, the only internist. Many of our patients were sick and complex. Two of the nurse practitioners (NPs) asked me to take their most complicated patients. Being comfortable with complexity as an internist, I said yes. 

One of the NPs was inappropriately hired, as she had experience in women’s health. She came to me freaked out: “Oh my God, I have no idea how to manage COPD!” The other wanted simpler patients. I don’t blame them for the patient transfers. NPs typically have 3 years of training before they practice, in contrast to primary care physicians’ 8. 

Guess who made friends with the custodian, staying until 8 p.m. most evenings, and who left by 5:30 p.m. 

What was I doing in those extra hours? I was trudging through clerical, yet important, tasks my medical assistant and transcriptionist used to do in private practice. In the 30 minutes allotted for the patient, I needed to focus entirely on them and their multiple complex medical problems. 

What is lost with the death of primary care internal medicine? 

At the recent Sommer Memorial Lectures in Portland, Steven D. Freer, MD, the current director of the residency program where I trained, has not had a single of his eight annual internal medicine graduates choose primary care in several years. Half (two of four) of those in my year did: One went to Tillamook, an underserved area on the Oregon coast, and I to Hillsboro. 

What are internal medicine training graduates doing now? They are becoming hospitalists or, more often, specialists in cardiology, pulmonology, nephrology, oncology, and other more lucrative fields of medicine. 

Why are they not choosing primary care? As when the University of Massachusetts Medical School was established, a shortage of primary care physicians persists and probably is more severe than it was in the 1970s. Massachusetts was proactive. We are already years behind catching up. The shortage is no longer in rural areas alone. 

Christine Laine, MD, who is editor in chief of Annals of Internal Medicine and spoke at the Sommer Memorial Lectures, lives in Philadelphia. Even there, she has lost her own primary care internal medicine physician and cannot find another primary care physician (much less an internist) for herself. 

Washington State, where I live, scores a D grade for our primary care staffing statewide. 

Is there hope for the future of primary care in general? Or for the restoration of primary care internal medicine? 

Maybe. I was relieved to hear from Dr. Freer and Dr. Laine that efforts are beginning to revive the field. 

Just like internists’ patients, the potential restoration of the field will be complex and multilayered. It will require new laws, policies, residency programs, and incentives for students, including debt reduction. Administrative burdens will need to be reduced; de-corporatization and restoring healthcare leadership to those with in-depth medical training will need to be a part of the solution as well. 

Let’s all hope the new resuscitation efforts will be successful for the field of primary care in general and primary care internal medicine specifically. It will be good for healthcare and for your patients! 

Many work for large systems in which they feel powerless to effect change.

Dr. Glasser is a retired internal medicine physician in Olympia, Washington. She can be reached at [email protected].

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published in Dr. Glasser’s bimonthly column in The Jolt, a nonprofit online news organization based in Olympia, Washington. She was inspired to write her story after meeting Christine Laine, MD, one of three female physician presenters at the Sommer Lectures in Portland, Oregon, in May 2024. The article has been edited lightly from the original. 

Primary care internal medicine — the medical field I chose, loved, and practiced for four decades — is dead. 

The grief and shock I feel about this is personal and transpersonal. The loss of internists (internal medicine physicians) practicing primary care is a major loss to us all. 

From the 1970s to roughly 2020, there were three groups of primary care physicians: family practice, pediatricians, and internists. In their 3-year residencies (after 4 years of medical school), pediatricians trained to care for children and adolescents; internists for adults; and FPs for children, adults, and women and pregnancy. Family practitioners are the most general of the generalists, whereas the others’ training involves comprehensive care of complex patients in their age groups.

How and when the field of primary care internal medicine flourished is my story. 

I was one of those kids who was hyperfocused on science, math, and the human body. By the end of high school, I was considering medicine for my career. 

To learn more, I volunteered at the local hospital. In my typical style, I requested not to be one of those candy stripers serving drinks on the wards. Instead, they put me in the emergency department, where I would transport patients and clean the stretchers. There I was free to watch whatever was going on if I did not interfere with the staff. On my first shift, a 20-year-old drowning victim arrived by ambulance. I watched the entire unsuccessful resuscitation and as shocked and saddened as I was, I knew (in the way only a headstrong 18-year-old can) that medicine was for me. 

It was a fortuitous time to graduate as a female pre-med student. 

In 1975, our country was in the midst of the women’s movement and a national effort to train primary care physicians. I was accepted to my state medical school. The University of Massachusetts Medical School had been established a few years earlier, with its main purpose to train primary care physicians and spread them around the state (especially out of the Boston metropolitan area). The curriculum was designed to expose students to primary care from year one. I was assigned to shadow a general practice physician in inner-city Springfield who saw over 50 patients a day! The patients knew they could see and afford him, so they crammed into his waiting room until their name was called in order of their arrival. No appointments necessary. His chart notes were a few scribbled sentences. I didn’t see myself in that practice exactly, but his work ethic and dedication inspired me. 

Over half of our graduating class chose to train in primary care specialties, and most stayed in-state. It turned out to be a good bet on the part of the government of Massachusetts. 

When I applied for residency in 1980, several internal medicine programs had a focus on primary care, which was my goal. I matched at Providence St. Vincent Hospital in Portland, Oregon, and moved across the country to the Pacific Northwest, never to look back. There, my attendings were doctors like I wanted to be: primary care internists in the community, not in academia. It was the perfect choice and an excellent training program. 

In 1984, I hung out my private practice internal medicine shingle in Hillsboro, Oregon, across the street from the community hospital. My primary care internal medicine colleagues and I shared weekend calls and admitted and cared for our patients in the hospital, and when they were discharged. That is now called “continuity of care.” It was a time when we ate in the doctors’ lounge together, met in hallways, and informally consulted each other about our patients. These were called “curbside consults.” They were invaluable to our ability to provide comprehensive care to our patients in primary care, led to fewer specialty referrals, and were free. That would now be called interprofessional communication and collegiality. 

“Burnout” was not a word you heard. We were busy and happy doing what we had spent 12 years of our precious youth to prepare for. 

What did internists offer to primary care? That also is part of my story. 

When I moved to Olympia, I took a position in the women’s health clinic at the American Lake Veterans Administration Medical Center. 

We were a small group: two family practice doctors, three nurse practitioners, and me, the only internist. Many of our patients were sick and complex. Two of the nurse practitioners (NPs) asked me to take their most complicated patients. Being comfortable with complexity as an internist, I said yes. 

One of the NPs was inappropriately hired, as she had experience in women’s health. She came to me freaked out: “Oh my God, I have no idea how to manage COPD!” The other wanted simpler patients. I don’t blame them for the patient transfers. NPs typically have 3 years of training before they practice, in contrast to primary care physicians’ 8. 

Guess who made friends with the custodian, staying until 8 p.m. most evenings, and who left by 5:30 p.m. 

What was I doing in those extra hours? I was trudging through clerical, yet important, tasks my medical assistant and transcriptionist used to do in private practice. In the 30 minutes allotted for the patient, I needed to focus entirely on them and their multiple complex medical problems. 

What is lost with the death of primary care internal medicine? 

At the recent Sommer Memorial Lectures in Portland, Steven D. Freer, MD, the current director of the residency program where I trained, has not had a single of his eight annual internal medicine graduates choose primary care in several years. Half (two of four) of those in my year did: One went to Tillamook, an underserved area on the Oregon coast, and I to Hillsboro. 

What are internal medicine training graduates doing now? They are becoming hospitalists or, more often, specialists in cardiology, pulmonology, nephrology, oncology, and other more lucrative fields of medicine. 

Why are they not choosing primary care? As when the University of Massachusetts Medical School was established, a shortage of primary care physicians persists and probably is more severe than it was in the 1970s. Massachusetts was proactive. We are already years behind catching up. The shortage is no longer in rural areas alone. 

Christine Laine, MD, who is editor in chief of Annals of Internal Medicine and spoke at the Sommer Memorial Lectures, lives in Philadelphia. Even there, she has lost her own primary care internal medicine physician and cannot find another primary care physician (much less an internist) for herself. 

Washington State, where I live, scores a D grade for our primary care staffing statewide. 

Is there hope for the future of primary care in general? Or for the restoration of primary care internal medicine? 

Maybe. I was relieved to hear from Dr. Freer and Dr. Laine that efforts are beginning to revive the field. 

Just like internists’ patients, the potential restoration of the field will be complex and multilayered. It will require new laws, policies, residency programs, and incentives for students, including debt reduction. Administrative burdens will need to be reduced; de-corporatization and restoring healthcare leadership to those with in-depth medical training will need to be a part of the solution as well. 

Let’s all hope the new resuscitation efforts will be successful for the field of primary care in general and primary care internal medicine specifically. It will be good for healthcare and for your patients! 

Many work for large systems in which they feel powerless to effect change.

Dr. Glasser is a retired internal medicine physician in Olympia, Washington. She can be reached at [email protected].

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published in Dr. Glasser’s bimonthly column in The Jolt, a nonprofit online news organization based in Olympia, Washington. She was inspired to write her story after meeting Christine Laine, MD, one of three female physician presenters at the Sommer Lectures in Portland, Oregon, in May 2024. The article has been edited lightly from the original. 

Primary care internal medicine — the medical field I chose, loved, and practiced for four decades — is dead. 

The grief and shock I feel about this is personal and transpersonal. The loss of internists (internal medicine physicians) practicing primary care is a major loss to us all. 

From the 1970s to roughly 2020, there were three groups of primary care physicians: family practice, pediatricians, and internists. In their 3-year residencies (after 4 years of medical school), pediatricians trained to care for children and adolescents; internists for adults; and FPs for children, adults, and women and pregnancy. Family practitioners are the most general of the generalists, whereas the others’ training involves comprehensive care of complex patients in their age groups.

How and when the field of primary care internal medicine flourished is my story. 

I was one of those kids who was hyperfocused on science, math, and the human body. By the end of high school, I was considering medicine for my career. 

To learn more, I volunteered at the local hospital. In my typical style, I requested not to be one of those candy stripers serving drinks on the wards. Instead, they put me in the emergency department, where I would transport patients and clean the stretchers. There I was free to watch whatever was going on if I did not interfere with the staff. On my first shift, a 20-year-old drowning victim arrived by ambulance. I watched the entire unsuccessful resuscitation and as shocked and saddened as I was, I knew (in the way only a headstrong 18-year-old can) that medicine was for me. 

It was a fortuitous time to graduate as a female pre-med student. 

In 1975, our country was in the midst of the women’s movement and a national effort to train primary care physicians. I was accepted to my state medical school. The University of Massachusetts Medical School had been established a few years earlier, with its main purpose to train primary care physicians and spread them around the state (especially out of the Boston metropolitan area). The curriculum was designed to expose students to primary care from year one. I was assigned to shadow a general practice physician in inner-city Springfield who saw over 50 patients a day! The patients knew they could see and afford him, so they crammed into his waiting room until their name was called in order of their arrival. No appointments necessary. His chart notes were a few scribbled sentences. I didn’t see myself in that practice exactly, but his work ethic and dedication inspired me. 

Over half of our graduating class chose to train in primary care specialties, and most stayed in-state. It turned out to be a good bet on the part of the government of Massachusetts. 

When I applied for residency in 1980, several internal medicine programs had a focus on primary care, which was my goal. I matched at Providence St. Vincent Hospital in Portland, Oregon, and moved across the country to the Pacific Northwest, never to look back. There, my attendings were doctors like I wanted to be: primary care internists in the community, not in academia. It was the perfect choice and an excellent training program. 

In 1984, I hung out my private practice internal medicine shingle in Hillsboro, Oregon, across the street from the community hospital. My primary care internal medicine colleagues and I shared weekend calls and admitted and cared for our patients in the hospital, and when they were discharged. That is now called “continuity of care.” It was a time when we ate in the doctors’ lounge together, met in hallways, and informally consulted each other about our patients. These were called “curbside consults.” They were invaluable to our ability to provide comprehensive care to our patients in primary care, led to fewer specialty referrals, and were free. That would now be called interprofessional communication and collegiality. 

“Burnout” was not a word you heard. We were busy and happy doing what we had spent 12 years of our precious youth to prepare for. 

What did internists offer to primary care? That also is part of my story. 

When I moved to Olympia, I took a position in the women’s health clinic at the American Lake Veterans Administration Medical Center. 

We were a small group: two family practice doctors, three nurse practitioners, and me, the only internist. Many of our patients were sick and complex. Two of the nurse practitioners (NPs) asked me to take their most complicated patients. Being comfortable with complexity as an internist, I said yes. 

One of the NPs was inappropriately hired, as she had experience in women’s health. She came to me freaked out: “Oh my God, I have no idea how to manage COPD!” The other wanted simpler patients. I don’t blame them for the patient transfers. NPs typically have 3 years of training before they practice, in contrast to primary care physicians’ 8. 

Guess who made friends with the custodian, staying until 8 p.m. most evenings, and who left by 5:30 p.m. 

What was I doing in those extra hours? I was trudging through clerical, yet important, tasks my medical assistant and transcriptionist used to do in private practice. In the 30 minutes allotted for the patient, I needed to focus entirely on them and their multiple complex medical problems. 

What is lost with the death of primary care internal medicine? 

At the recent Sommer Memorial Lectures in Portland, Steven D. Freer, MD, the current director of the residency program where I trained, has not had a single of his eight annual internal medicine graduates choose primary care in several years. Half (two of four) of those in my year did: One went to Tillamook, an underserved area on the Oregon coast, and I to Hillsboro. 

What are internal medicine training graduates doing now? They are becoming hospitalists or, more often, specialists in cardiology, pulmonology, nephrology, oncology, and other more lucrative fields of medicine. 

Why are they not choosing primary care? As when the University of Massachusetts Medical School was established, a shortage of primary care physicians persists and probably is more severe than it was in the 1970s. Massachusetts was proactive. We are already years behind catching up. The shortage is no longer in rural areas alone. 

Christine Laine, MD, who is editor in chief of Annals of Internal Medicine and spoke at the Sommer Memorial Lectures, lives in Philadelphia. Even there, she has lost her own primary care internal medicine physician and cannot find another primary care physician (much less an internist) for herself. 

Washington State, where I live, scores a D grade for our primary care staffing statewide. 

Is there hope for the future of primary care in general? Or for the restoration of primary care internal medicine? 

Maybe. I was relieved to hear from Dr. Freer and Dr. Laine that efforts are beginning to revive the field. 

Just like internists’ patients, the potential restoration of the field will be complex and multilayered. It will require new laws, policies, residency programs, and incentives for students, including debt reduction. Administrative burdens will need to be reduced; de-corporatization and restoring healthcare leadership to those with in-depth medical training will need to be a part of the solution as well. 

Let’s all hope the new resuscitation efforts will be successful for the field of primary care in general and primary care internal medicine specifically. It will be good for healthcare and for your patients! 

Many work for large systems in which they feel powerless to effect change.

Dr. Glasser is a retired internal medicine physician in Olympia, Washington. She can be reached at [email protected].

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A relatively low-resource behavioral intervention may help postpartum women transition to engagement with primary care, according to study results published in JAMA Network Open. The intervention bundle includes default scheduling of postpartum primary care appointments and tailored reminders and messaging.

Researchers, led by Mark A. Clapp, MD, MPH, with Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, highlighted a care transition gap common after a woman gives birth. More than 30% of pregnant people have at least one chronic condition and nearly 20% develop gestational diabetes or pregnancy-related hypertension, which increases the risk of future chronic disease, the authors write. They are closely monitored for these conditions during pregnancy, but many face barriers in transitioning to engagement with primary care.

Scheduling appointments, difficulty in finding information, and insurance or billing issues can impede access to care. In this study, the primary outcome measure was whether women completed a primary care visit for routine or chronic condition care within 4 months of delivery.
 

Intervention vs Control Group

The intervention included an introduction message talking about the importance of a primary care visit and notification that a staff member would be scheduling an appointment on the patients’ behalf within a 4-month window of the estimated due date (EDD). Patients could opt out or ask for specific scheduling. If a patient had already seen their primary care physician (PCP) for an annual visit within the year, they were scheduled for an annual visit when they were next eligible, even if outside the 4-month study follow-up.

For those who did not opt out and had appointments scheduled for them, reminders were sent about 1 month after the EDD and 1 week before the scheduled appointment through the EHR patient portal. Salient labeling of the message was used to describe the visit. For those for whom an appointment could not be scheduled, similar reminders were sent on the importance of primary care follow-up, urging patients to contact their primary care office directly to schedule. Reminders included evidence-based, best-practice wording including that “the appointment had been reserved for them.”

Patients in the control group received one message within 2 weeks of the EDD with a generic recommendation for primary care follow-up after delivery.

Researchers found that 40% of the intervention group (95% confidence interval (CI), 33.1%-47.4%) and 22% of the control group (95% CI, 6.4%-28.8%), completed a primary care visit within 4 months. “[T]he intervention increased PCP visit completion by 18.7 percentage points (95% CI, 9.1-28.2 percentage points),” they write. Those who received the intervention also had fewer postpartum readmissions (1.7% vs 5.8%) and were more likely to have had these services from a PCP: blood pressure screening (42.8% vs 28.3%); weight assessment (42.8% vs 27.7%); and depression screening (32.8% vs 16.8%).

Meghan Bellerose, MPH, with the Department of Health Services, Policy, and Practice at Brown University School of Public Health in Providence, Rhode Island, described in an accompanying editorial the “postpartum cliff.”

“Health system engagement plummets soon after childbirth in the US,” she writes. “Under current care practices, obstetric clinicians deliver a single postpartum visit within 12 weeks of delivery, after which patients are responsible for navigating the transition to primary care on their own.”

The intervention Dr. Clapp and colleagues propose could help increase the benefit of state and federal policies aimed at increasing care continuity after delivery, she writes. She pointed to the American Rescue Plan Act of 2021, in which states were given the option to provide 12 months of continuous Medicaid coverage to low-income postpartum women, up from the previous 2 months of coverage. By early May of 2024, 46 states had chosen the longer coverage.

Without a better bridge between postpartum and primary care, she notes, “we will not see the full value of extended Medicaid coverage.”

“The findings of Clapp et al. suggest that a relatively low-resource, scalable intervention including default scheduling of postpartum-to-primary care appointments and salient messaging could increase the use of primary care in the postpartum year to extend the effects of this policy.”
 

Still, Only 40% Used Primary Care

She noted, however, that despite the finding that the intervention in this study nearly doubled the percentage of primary care visits in 4 months, primary care use still was only 40%. Study staff were not able to schedule an appointment for 24% of the intervention group within a year, even though participants identified a PCP at enrollment. Reasons for that included the patient already having used their yearly primary care visit; patients needing to restart care with their primary care clinician or choose a new clinician; and study staff being unable to reach primary care offices for scheduling.

Clearly, “there is more work to be done to remove administrative barriers to care after delivery,” she writes.

Dr. Clapp reports holding equity from the Delfina Care Scientific Advisory Board outside the submitted work. Coauthor Dr. Ganguli reports grants from the National Institute on Aging, Commonwealth Fund, and Arnold Ventures, and personal fees from FPrime outside the submitted work. Dr. Cohen reports grants from the National Academy of Medicine and the National Academy on Aging during the conduct of the study. The study was funded by the National Institute on Aging via the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Roybal Center for Translational Research to Improve Health Care for the Aging and the National Bureau of Economic Research Roybal Center for Behavior Change in Health. Editorialist Meghan Bellerose reported no relevant financial disclosures.

A relatively low-resource behavioral intervention may help postpartum women transition to engagement with primary care, according to study results published in JAMA Network Open. The intervention bundle includes default scheduling of postpartum primary care appointments and tailored reminders and messaging.

Researchers, led by Mark A. Clapp, MD, MPH, with Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, highlighted a care transition gap common after a woman gives birth. More than 30% of pregnant people have at least one chronic condition and nearly 20% develop gestational diabetes or pregnancy-related hypertension, which increases the risk of future chronic disease, the authors write. They are closely monitored for these conditions during pregnancy, but many face barriers in transitioning to engagement with primary care.

Scheduling appointments, difficulty in finding information, and insurance or billing issues can impede access to care. In this study, the primary outcome measure was whether women completed a primary care visit for routine or chronic condition care within 4 months of delivery.
 

Intervention vs Control Group

The intervention included an introduction message talking about the importance of a primary care visit and notification that a staff member would be scheduling an appointment on the patients’ behalf within a 4-month window of the estimated due date (EDD). Patients could opt out or ask for specific scheduling. If a patient had already seen their primary care physician (PCP) for an annual visit within the year, they were scheduled for an annual visit when they were next eligible, even if outside the 4-month study follow-up.

For those who did not opt out and had appointments scheduled for them, reminders were sent about 1 month after the EDD and 1 week before the scheduled appointment through the EHR patient portal. Salient labeling of the message was used to describe the visit. For those for whom an appointment could not be scheduled, similar reminders were sent on the importance of primary care follow-up, urging patients to contact their primary care office directly to schedule. Reminders included evidence-based, best-practice wording including that “the appointment had been reserved for them.”

Patients in the control group received one message within 2 weeks of the EDD with a generic recommendation for primary care follow-up after delivery.

Researchers found that 40% of the intervention group (95% confidence interval (CI), 33.1%-47.4%) and 22% of the control group (95% CI, 6.4%-28.8%), completed a primary care visit within 4 months. “[T]he intervention increased PCP visit completion by 18.7 percentage points (95% CI, 9.1-28.2 percentage points),” they write. Those who received the intervention also had fewer postpartum readmissions (1.7% vs 5.8%) and were more likely to have had these services from a PCP: blood pressure screening (42.8% vs 28.3%); weight assessment (42.8% vs 27.7%); and depression screening (32.8% vs 16.8%).

Meghan Bellerose, MPH, with the Department of Health Services, Policy, and Practice at Brown University School of Public Health in Providence, Rhode Island, described in an accompanying editorial the “postpartum cliff.”

“Health system engagement plummets soon after childbirth in the US,” she writes. “Under current care practices, obstetric clinicians deliver a single postpartum visit within 12 weeks of delivery, after which patients are responsible for navigating the transition to primary care on their own.”

The intervention Dr. Clapp and colleagues propose could help increase the benefit of state and federal policies aimed at increasing care continuity after delivery, she writes. She pointed to the American Rescue Plan Act of 2021, in which states were given the option to provide 12 months of continuous Medicaid coverage to low-income postpartum women, up from the previous 2 months of coverage. By early May of 2024, 46 states had chosen the longer coverage.

Without a better bridge between postpartum and primary care, she notes, “we will not see the full value of extended Medicaid coverage.”

“The findings of Clapp et al. suggest that a relatively low-resource, scalable intervention including default scheduling of postpartum-to-primary care appointments and salient messaging could increase the use of primary care in the postpartum year to extend the effects of this policy.”
 

Still, Only 40% Used Primary Care

She noted, however, that despite the finding that the intervention in this study nearly doubled the percentage of primary care visits in 4 months, primary care use still was only 40%. Study staff were not able to schedule an appointment for 24% of the intervention group within a year, even though participants identified a PCP at enrollment. Reasons for that included the patient already having used their yearly primary care visit; patients needing to restart care with their primary care clinician or choose a new clinician; and study staff being unable to reach primary care offices for scheduling.

Clearly, “there is more work to be done to remove administrative barriers to care after delivery,” she writes.

Dr. Clapp reports holding equity from the Delfina Care Scientific Advisory Board outside the submitted work. Coauthor Dr. Ganguli reports grants from the National Institute on Aging, Commonwealth Fund, and Arnold Ventures, and personal fees from FPrime outside the submitted work. Dr. Cohen reports grants from the National Academy of Medicine and the National Academy on Aging during the conduct of the study. The study was funded by the National Institute on Aging via the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Roybal Center for Translational Research to Improve Health Care for the Aging and the National Bureau of Economic Research Roybal Center for Behavior Change in Health. Editorialist Meghan Bellerose reported no relevant financial disclosures.

A relatively low-resource behavioral intervention may help postpartum women transition to engagement with primary care, according to study results published in JAMA Network Open. The intervention bundle includes default scheduling of postpartum primary care appointments and tailored reminders and messaging.

Researchers, led by Mark A. Clapp, MD, MPH, with Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, highlighted a care transition gap common after a woman gives birth. More than 30% of pregnant people have at least one chronic condition and nearly 20% develop gestational diabetes or pregnancy-related hypertension, which increases the risk of future chronic disease, the authors write. They are closely monitored for these conditions during pregnancy, but many face barriers in transitioning to engagement with primary care.

Scheduling appointments, difficulty in finding information, and insurance or billing issues can impede access to care. In this study, the primary outcome measure was whether women completed a primary care visit for routine or chronic condition care within 4 months of delivery.
 

Intervention vs Control Group

The intervention included an introduction message talking about the importance of a primary care visit and notification that a staff member would be scheduling an appointment on the patients’ behalf within a 4-month window of the estimated due date (EDD). Patients could opt out or ask for specific scheduling. If a patient had already seen their primary care physician (PCP) for an annual visit within the year, they were scheduled for an annual visit when they were next eligible, even if outside the 4-month study follow-up.

For those who did not opt out and had appointments scheduled for them, reminders were sent about 1 month after the EDD and 1 week before the scheduled appointment through the EHR patient portal. Salient labeling of the message was used to describe the visit. For those for whom an appointment could not be scheduled, similar reminders were sent on the importance of primary care follow-up, urging patients to contact their primary care office directly to schedule. Reminders included evidence-based, best-practice wording including that “the appointment had been reserved for them.”

Patients in the control group received one message within 2 weeks of the EDD with a generic recommendation for primary care follow-up after delivery.

Researchers found that 40% of the intervention group (95% confidence interval (CI), 33.1%-47.4%) and 22% of the control group (95% CI, 6.4%-28.8%), completed a primary care visit within 4 months. “[T]he intervention increased PCP visit completion by 18.7 percentage points (95% CI, 9.1-28.2 percentage points),” they write. Those who received the intervention also had fewer postpartum readmissions (1.7% vs 5.8%) and were more likely to have had these services from a PCP: blood pressure screening (42.8% vs 28.3%); weight assessment (42.8% vs 27.7%); and depression screening (32.8% vs 16.8%).

Meghan Bellerose, MPH, with the Department of Health Services, Policy, and Practice at Brown University School of Public Health in Providence, Rhode Island, described in an accompanying editorial the “postpartum cliff.”

“Health system engagement plummets soon after childbirth in the US,” she writes. “Under current care practices, obstetric clinicians deliver a single postpartum visit within 12 weeks of delivery, after which patients are responsible for navigating the transition to primary care on their own.”

The intervention Dr. Clapp and colleagues propose could help increase the benefit of state and federal policies aimed at increasing care continuity after delivery, she writes. She pointed to the American Rescue Plan Act of 2021, in which states were given the option to provide 12 months of continuous Medicaid coverage to low-income postpartum women, up from the previous 2 months of coverage. By early May of 2024, 46 states had chosen the longer coverage.

Without a better bridge between postpartum and primary care, she notes, “we will not see the full value of extended Medicaid coverage.”

“The findings of Clapp et al. suggest that a relatively low-resource, scalable intervention including default scheduling of postpartum-to-primary care appointments and salient messaging could increase the use of primary care in the postpartum year to extend the effects of this policy.”
 

Still, Only 40% Used Primary Care

She noted, however, that despite the finding that the intervention in this study nearly doubled the percentage of primary care visits in 4 months, primary care use still was only 40%. Study staff were not able to schedule an appointment for 24% of the intervention group within a year, even though participants identified a PCP at enrollment. Reasons for that included the patient already having used their yearly primary care visit; patients needing to restart care with their primary care clinician or choose a new clinician; and study staff being unable to reach primary care offices for scheduling.

Clearly, “there is more work to be done to remove administrative barriers to care after delivery,” she writes.

Dr. Clapp reports holding equity from the Delfina Care Scientific Advisory Board outside the submitted work. Coauthor Dr. Ganguli reports grants from the National Institute on Aging, Commonwealth Fund, and Arnold Ventures, and personal fees from FPrime outside the submitted work. Dr. Cohen reports grants from the National Academy of Medicine and the National Academy on Aging during the conduct of the study. The study was funded by the National Institute on Aging via the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Roybal Center for Translational Research to Improve Health Care for the Aging and the National Bureau of Economic Research Roybal Center for Behavior Change in Health. Editorialist Meghan Bellerose reported no relevant financial disclosures.