Ob.Gyn. News

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

Vulvar squamous cell carcinomas (VSCC) comprise approximately 90% of all vulvar malignancies. Unlike cervical SCC, which are predominantly human papilloma virus (HPV) positive, only a minority of VSCC are HPV positive – on the order of 15%-25% of cases. Most cases occur in the setting of lichen sclerosus and are HPV negative.

Lichen sclerosus is a chronic inflammatory dermatitis typically involving the anogenital area, which in some cases can become seriously distorted (e.g. atrophy of the labia minora, clitoral phimosis, and introital stenosis). Although most cases are diagnosed in postmenopausal women, LS can affect women of any age. The true prevalence of lichen sclerosus is unknown. Recent studies have shown a prevalence of 1 in 60; among older women, it can even be as high as 1 in 30. While lichen sclerosus is a pruriginous condition, it is often asymptomatic. It is not considered a premalignant condition. The diagnosis is clinical; however, suspicious lesions (erosions/ulcerations, hyperkeratosis, pigmented areas, ecchymosis, warty or papular lesions), particularly when recalcitrant to adequate first-line therapy, should be biopsied.

VSCC arises from precursor lesions or high-grade vulvar intraepithelial neoplasia (VIN). The 2015 International Society for the Study of Vulvovaginal Disease nomenclature classifies high-grade VIN into high-grade squamous intraepithelial lesion (HSIL) and differentiated VIN (dVIN). Most patients with high-grade VIN are diagnosed with HSIL or usual type VIN. A preponderance of these lesions (75%-85%) are HPV positive, predominantly HPV 16. Vulvar HSIL (vHSIL) lesions affect younger women. The lesions tend to be multifocal and extensive. On the other hand, dVIN typically affects older women and commonly develops as a solitary lesion. While dVIN accounts for only a small subset of patients with high-grade VIN, these lesions are HPV negative and associated with lichen sclerosus.

Both disease entities, vHSIL and dVIN, are increasing in incidence. There is a higher risk and shortened period of progression to cancer in patients with dVIN compared to HSIL. The cancer risk of vHSIL is relatively low. The 10-year cumulative VSCC risk reported in the literature is 10.3%; 9.7% for vHSIL and 50% for dVIN. Patients with vHSIL could benefit from less aggressive treatment modalities.

Dr. Jackson-Moore is associate professor in gynecologic oncology at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Dr. Tucker is assistant professor of gynecologic oncology at the university.
 

References

Cendejas BR et al. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 2015 Mar;212(3):291-7.

Lebreton M et al. J Gynecol Obstet Hum Reprod. 2020 Nov;49(9):101801.

Thuijs NB et al. Int J Cancer. 2021 Jan 1;148(1):90-8. doi: 10.1002/ijc.33198. .

Trutnovsky G et al. Lancet. 2022 May 7;399(10337):1790-8. Erratum in: Lancet. 2022 Oct 8;400(10359):1194.

The Food and Drug Administration has granted accelerated approval to mirvetuximab soravtansine (Elahere) for use in pretreated patients with folate receptor (FR) alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, and primary peritoneal cancer. These patients can have received one to three prior lines of treatment.

“Continued approval may be contingent upon verification and description of clinical benefit in a confirmatory trial,” according to labeling.

Mirvetuximab soravtansine is an antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) with an antibody directed against FR alpha that is linked to a microtubule inhibitor conjugate.

This product is a first-in-class ADC directed against FR alpha, a cell-surface protein highly expressed in ovarian cancer, and is the first FDA-approved ADC for platinum-resistant disease, said the manufacturer, ImmunoGen.

Patients are selected for treatment with this drug using a diagnostic test that the FDA approved along with the agent: the VENTANA FOLR1 (FOLR-2.1) RxDx Assay.

FR alpha–positive platinum-resistant ovarian cancer is characterized by limited treatment options and poor outcomes, commented Ursula Matulonis, MD, chief of the division of gynecologic oncology at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston, and co–principal investigator of the SORAYA trial that led to the approval. In a company press release, she said results from this trial show that mirvetuximab soravtansine has “impressive antitumor activity, durability of response, and overall tolerability ... [which] demonstrate the benefit of this new therapeutic option.”

The SORAYA trial (also known as Study 0417 [NCT04296890]) was a single-arm trial of 106 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer.

These patients were identified as FR alpha positive by using the assay. They were permitted to receive up to three prior lines of systemic therapy, and all patients were required to have received bevacizumab.

All patients received mirvetuximab soravtansine-gynx 6 mg/kg (based on adjusted ideal body weight) as an intravenous infusion every 3 weeks until disease progression or unacceptable toxicity.

The approval was based on an investigator-assessed overall response rate of 31.7%, which included five complete responses, and a median duration of response of 6.9 months.

Safety was evaluated in a pooled analysis from three studies among a total of 464 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer who received at least one dose of the drug.

The most common adverse events, occurring in 20% or more of study participants, were vision impairment, fatigue, increased AST level, nausea, increased alanine aminotransferase level, keratopathy, abdominal pain, decreased lymphocytes, peripheral neuropathy, diarrhea, decreased albumin, constipation, increased alkaline phosphatase level, dry eye, decreased magnesium level, decreased leukocyte count, decreased neutrophil count, and decreased hemoglobin level.

Potential participants were excluded if they had corneal disorders, ocular conditions requiring ongoing treatment, peripheral neuropathy above grade 1, or noninfectious interstitial lung disease.

The product labeling contains a boxed warning of ocular toxicity. Full prescribing information is available.

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

The Food and Drug Administration has granted accelerated approval to mirvetuximab soravtansine (Elahere) for use in pretreated patients with folate receptor (FR) alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, and primary peritoneal cancer. These patients can have received one to three prior lines of treatment.

“Continued approval may be contingent upon verification and description of clinical benefit in a confirmatory trial,” according to labeling.

Mirvetuximab soravtansine is an antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) with an antibody directed against FR alpha that is linked to a microtubule inhibitor conjugate.

This product is a first-in-class ADC directed against FR alpha, a cell-surface protein highly expressed in ovarian cancer, and is the first FDA-approved ADC for platinum-resistant disease, said the manufacturer, ImmunoGen.

Patients are selected for treatment with this drug using a diagnostic test that the FDA approved along with the agent: the VENTANA FOLR1 (FOLR-2.1) RxDx Assay.

FR alpha–positive platinum-resistant ovarian cancer is characterized by limited treatment options and poor outcomes, commented Ursula Matulonis, MD, chief of the division of gynecologic oncology at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston, and co–principal investigator of the SORAYA trial that led to the approval. In a company press release, she said results from this trial show that mirvetuximab soravtansine has “impressive antitumor activity, durability of response, and overall tolerability ... [which] demonstrate the benefit of this new therapeutic option.”

The SORAYA trial (also known as Study 0417 [NCT04296890]) was a single-arm trial of 106 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer.

These patients were identified as FR alpha positive by using the assay. They were permitted to receive up to three prior lines of systemic therapy, and all patients were required to have received bevacizumab.

All patients received mirvetuximab soravtansine-gynx 6 mg/kg (based on adjusted ideal body weight) as an intravenous infusion every 3 weeks until disease progression or unacceptable toxicity.

The approval was based on an investigator-assessed overall response rate of 31.7%, which included five complete responses, and a median duration of response of 6.9 months.

Safety was evaluated in a pooled analysis from three studies among a total of 464 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer who received at least one dose of the drug.

The most common adverse events, occurring in 20% or more of study participants, were vision impairment, fatigue, increased AST level, nausea, increased alanine aminotransferase level, keratopathy, abdominal pain, decreased lymphocytes, peripheral neuropathy, diarrhea, decreased albumin, constipation, increased alkaline phosphatase level, dry eye, decreased magnesium level, decreased leukocyte count, decreased neutrophil count, and decreased hemoglobin level.

Potential participants were excluded if they had corneal disorders, ocular conditions requiring ongoing treatment, peripheral neuropathy above grade 1, or noninfectious interstitial lung disease.

The product labeling contains a boxed warning of ocular toxicity. Full prescribing information is available.

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

The Food and Drug Administration has granted accelerated approval to mirvetuximab soravtansine (Elahere) for use in pretreated patients with folate receptor (FR) alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, and primary peritoneal cancer. These patients can have received one to three prior lines of treatment.

“Continued approval may be contingent upon verification and description of clinical benefit in a confirmatory trial,” according to labeling.

Mirvetuximab soravtansine is an antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) with an antibody directed against FR alpha that is linked to a microtubule inhibitor conjugate.

This product is a first-in-class ADC directed against FR alpha, a cell-surface protein highly expressed in ovarian cancer, and is the first FDA-approved ADC for platinum-resistant disease, said the manufacturer, ImmunoGen.

Patients are selected for treatment with this drug using a diagnostic test that the FDA approved along with the agent: the VENTANA FOLR1 (FOLR-2.1) RxDx Assay.

FR alpha–positive platinum-resistant ovarian cancer is characterized by limited treatment options and poor outcomes, commented Ursula Matulonis, MD, chief of the division of gynecologic oncology at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, Boston, and co–principal investigator of the SORAYA trial that led to the approval. In a company press release, she said results from this trial show that mirvetuximab soravtansine has “impressive antitumor activity, durability of response, and overall tolerability ... [which] demonstrate the benefit of this new therapeutic option.”

The SORAYA trial (also known as Study 0417 [NCT04296890]) was a single-arm trial of 106 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer.

These patients were identified as FR alpha positive by using the assay. They were permitted to receive up to three prior lines of systemic therapy, and all patients were required to have received bevacizumab.

All patients received mirvetuximab soravtansine-gynx 6 mg/kg (based on adjusted ideal body weight) as an intravenous infusion every 3 weeks until disease progression or unacceptable toxicity.

The approval was based on an investigator-assessed overall response rate of 31.7%, which included five complete responses, and a median duration of response of 6.9 months.

Safety was evaluated in a pooled analysis from three studies among a total of 464 patients with FR alpha–positive, platinum-resistant epithelial ovarian, fallopian tube, or primary peritoneal cancer who received at least one dose of the drug.

The most common adverse events, occurring in 20% or more of study participants, were vision impairment, fatigue, increased AST level, nausea, increased alanine aminotransferase level, keratopathy, abdominal pain, decreased lymphocytes, peripheral neuropathy, diarrhea, decreased albumin, constipation, increased alkaline phosphatase level, dry eye, decreased magnesium level, decreased leukocyte count, decreased neutrophil count, and decreased hemoglobin level.

Potential participants were excluded if they had corneal disorders, ocular conditions requiring ongoing treatment, peripheral neuropathy above grade 1, or noninfectious interstitial lung disease.

The product labeling contains a boxed warning of ocular toxicity. Full prescribing information is available.

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

Medical residents have cleared many hurdles to get where they are, as detailed in Medscape’s Residents Salary and Debt Report 2022 which explains their challenges with compensation and school loans as well as long hours and problematic personal relationships.

Whereas 72% of residents described themselves as “very satisfied” or “satisfied” with their professional training experience, only 27% felt that highly about how well they’re paid. Satisfaction levels increased somewhat farther into residency, reaching 35% in year 5.

Respondents to the survey described mixed feelings about residency, with some concluding it is a rite of passage.
 

Do residents have it easier today?

If so, is that rite of passage getting any easier? You’ll get different answers from residents and physicians.

Medscape asked respondents whether their journey to residency was made easier once the Step 1 exam was converted to pass-fail, and interviews brought online, because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Many residents conceded their journey became easier, less stressful, and less expensive under the new Step 1 formats. One respondent said he was freed up to focus more intently on higher-yield academic goals such as research.

Another respondent called the pass/fail change a “total game-changer,” as it lets applicants apply to all specialties while having other qualifications than test scores considered. A resident who took Step 1 before pass/fail was instituted described the “insurmountable stress associated with studying for Step 1 to get the highest score you possibly could.”

But not all residents liked the difficulty in being able to differentiate themselves, beyond med school pedigrees, in the absence of Step 1 scores.

Meanwhile, some doctors posting comments to the Medscape report strongly disagreed with the idea that residency life is getting harder. They depict residency as a rite of passage under the best of circumstances.

“Whatever issues there may be [today’s residents] are still making eight times what I got and, from what I’ve seen, we had a lot more independent responsibilities,” one physician commenter said.

Other doctors were more sympathetic and worried about the future price to be paid for hardships during residency. “Compensation should not be tied to the willingness to sacrifice the most beautiful years of life,” one commentator wrote.
 

Online interviews: Pros and cons

Many resident respondents celebrated the opportunity to interview for residency programs online. Some who traveled to in-person interviews before the pandemic said they racked up as much as $10,000 in travel costs, adding to their debt loads.

But not everyone was a fan. Other residents sniped that peers can apply to more residencies and “hoard” interviews, making the competition that much harder.

And how useful are online interviews to a prospective resident? “Virtual interviews are terrible for getting a true sense for a program or even the people,” a 1st-year family medicine resident complained. And it’s harder for an applicant “to shine when you’re on Zoom,” a 1st-year internal medicine resident opined.
 

Whether to report harassment

In survey, respondents were asked whether they ever witnessed sexual abuse, harassment, or misconduct; and if so, what they did about it. Among those who did, many opted to take no action, fearing retaliation or retribution. “I saw a resident made out to be a ‘problem resident’ when reporting it and then ultimately fired,” one respondent recounted.

Other residents said they felt unsure about the protocol, whom to report to, or even what constituted harassment or misconduct. “I didn’t realize [an incident] was harassment until later,” one resident said. Others thought “minor” or “subtle” incidents did not warrant action; “they are typically microaggressions and appear accepted within the culture of the institution.”

Residents’ confusion heightened when the perpetrator was a patient. “I’m not sure what to do about that,” a respondent acknowledged. An emergency medicine resident added, “most of the time … it is the patients who are acting inappropriately, saying inappropriate things, etc. There is no way to file a complaint like that.”
 

Rewards and challenges for residents

Among the most rewarding parts of residency that respondents described were developing specific skills such as surgical techniques, job security, and “learning a little day by day” in the words of a 1st-year gastroenterology resident.

Others felt gratified by the chances to help patients and families, their teams, and to advance social justice and health equity.

But challenges abound – chiefly money struggles. A 3rd-year psychiatry resident lamented “being financially strapped in the prime of my life from student loans and low wages.”

Stress and emotional fatigue also came up often as major challenges. “Constantly being told to do more, more presentations, more papers, more research, more studying,” a 5th-year neurosurgery resident bemoaned. “Being expected to be at the top of my game despite being sleep-deprived, depressed, and burned out,” a 3rd-year ob.gyn. resident groused.

But some physician commenters urged residents to look for long-term growth behind the challenges. “Yes, it was hard, but the experience was phenomenal, and I am glad I did it,” one doctor said.

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

Medical residents have cleared many hurdles to get where they are, as detailed in Medscape’s Residents Salary and Debt Report 2022 which explains their challenges with compensation and school loans as well as long hours and problematic personal relationships.

Whereas 72% of residents described themselves as “very satisfied” or “satisfied” with their professional training experience, only 27% felt that highly about how well they’re paid. Satisfaction levels increased somewhat farther into residency, reaching 35% in year 5.

Respondents to the survey described mixed feelings about residency, with some concluding it is a rite of passage.
 

Do residents have it easier today?

If so, is that rite of passage getting any easier? You’ll get different answers from residents and physicians.

Medscape asked respondents whether their journey to residency was made easier once the Step 1 exam was converted to pass-fail, and interviews brought online, because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Many residents conceded their journey became easier, less stressful, and less expensive under the new Step 1 formats. One respondent said he was freed up to focus more intently on higher-yield academic goals such as research.

Another respondent called the pass/fail change a “total game-changer,” as it lets applicants apply to all specialties while having other qualifications than test scores considered. A resident who took Step 1 before pass/fail was instituted described the “insurmountable stress associated with studying for Step 1 to get the highest score you possibly could.”

But not all residents liked the difficulty in being able to differentiate themselves, beyond med school pedigrees, in the absence of Step 1 scores.

Meanwhile, some doctors posting comments to the Medscape report strongly disagreed with the idea that residency life is getting harder. They depict residency as a rite of passage under the best of circumstances.

“Whatever issues there may be [today’s residents] are still making eight times what I got and, from what I’ve seen, we had a lot more independent responsibilities,” one physician commenter said.

Other doctors were more sympathetic and worried about the future price to be paid for hardships during residency. “Compensation should not be tied to the willingness to sacrifice the most beautiful years of life,” one commentator wrote.
 

Online interviews: Pros and cons

Many resident respondents celebrated the opportunity to interview for residency programs online. Some who traveled to in-person interviews before the pandemic said they racked up as much as $10,000 in travel costs, adding to their debt loads.

But not everyone was a fan. Other residents sniped that peers can apply to more residencies and “hoard” interviews, making the competition that much harder.

And how useful are online interviews to a prospective resident? “Virtual interviews are terrible for getting a true sense for a program or even the people,” a 1st-year family medicine resident complained. And it’s harder for an applicant “to shine when you’re on Zoom,” a 1st-year internal medicine resident opined.
 

Whether to report harassment

In survey, respondents were asked whether they ever witnessed sexual abuse, harassment, or misconduct; and if so, what they did about it. Among those who did, many opted to take no action, fearing retaliation or retribution. “I saw a resident made out to be a ‘problem resident’ when reporting it and then ultimately fired,” one respondent recounted.

Other residents said they felt unsure about the protocol, whom to report to, or even what constituted harassment or misconduct. “I didn’t realize [an incident] was harassment until later,” one resident said. Others thought “minor” or “subtle” incidents did not warrant action; “they are typically microaggressions and appear accepted within the culture of the institution.”

Residents’ confusion heightened when the perpetrator was a patient. “I’m not sure what to do about that,” a respondent acknowledged. An emergency medicine resident added, “most of the time … it is the patients who are acting inappropriately, saying inappropriate things, etc. There is no way to file a complaint like that.”
 

Rewards and challenges for residents

Among the most rewarding parts of residency that respondents described were developing specific skills such as surgical techniques, job security, and “learning a little day by day” in the words of a 1st-year gastroenterology resident.

Others felt gratified by the chances to help patients and families, their teams, and to advance social justice and health equity.

But challenges abound – chiefly money struggles. A 3rd-year psychiatry resident lamented “being financially strapped in the prime of my life from student loans and low wages.”

Stress and emotional fatigue also came up often as major challenges. “Constantly being told to do more, more presentations, more papers, more research, more studying,” a 5th-year neurosurgery resident bemoaned. “Being expected to be at the top of my game despite being sleep-deprived, depressed, and burned out,” a 3rd-year ob.gyn. resident groused.

But some physician commenters urged residents to look for long-term growth behind the challenges. “Yes, it was hard, but the experience was phenomenal, and I am glad I did it,” one doctor said.

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

Medical residents have cleared many hurdles to get where they are, as detailed in Medscape’s Residents Salary and Debt Report 2022 which explains their challenges with compensation and school loans as well as long hours and problematic personal relationships.

Whereas 72% of residents described themselves as “very satisfied” or “satisfied” with their professional training experience, only 27% felt that highly about how well they’re paid. Satisfaction levels increased somewhat farther into residency, reaching 35% in year 5.

Respondents to the survey described mixed feelings about residency, with some concluding it is a rite of passage.
 

Do residents have it easier today?

If so, is that rite of passage getting any easier? You’ll get different answers from residents and physicians.

Medscape asked respondents whether their journey to residency was made easier once the Step 1 exam was converted to pass-fail, and interviews brought online, because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Many residents conceded their journey became easier, less stressful, and less expensive under the new Step 1 formats. One respondent said he was freed up to focus more intently on higher-yield academic goals such as research.

Another respondent called the pass/fail change a “total game-changer,” as it lets applicants apply to all specialties while having other qualifications than test scores considered. A resident who took Step 1 before pass/fail was instituted described the “insurmountable stress associated with studying for Step 1 to get the highest score you possibly could.”

But not all residents liked the difficulty in being able to differentiate themselves, beyond med school pedigrees, in the absence of Step 1 scores.

Meanwhile, some doctors posting comments to the Medscape report strongly disagreed with the idea that residency life is getting harder. They depict residency as a rite of passage under the best of circumstances.

“Whatever issues there may be [today’s residents] are still making eight times what I got and, from what I’ve seen, we had a lot more independent responsibilities,” one physician commenter said.

Other doctors were more sympathetic and worried about the future price to be paid for hardships during residency. “Compensation should not be tied to the willingness to sacrifice the most beautiful years of life,” one commentator wrote.
 

Online interviews: Pros and cons

Many resident respondents celebrated the opportunity to interview for residency programs online. Some who traveled to in-person interviews before the pandemic said they racked up as much as $10,000 in travel costs, adding to their debt loads.

But not everyone was a fan. Other residents sniped that peers can apply to more residencies and “hoard” interviews, making the competition that much harder.

And how useful are online interviews to a prospective resident? “Virtual interviews are terrible for getting a true sense for a program or even the people,” a 1st-year family medicine resident complained. And it’s harder for an applicant “to shine when you’re on Zoom,” a 1st-year internal medicine resident opined.
 

Whether to report harassment

In survey, respondents were asked whether they ever witnessed sexual abuse, harassment, or misconduct; and if so, what they did about it. Among those who did, many opted to take no action, fearing retaliation or retribution. “I saw a resident made out to be a ‘problem resident’ when reporting it and then ultimately fired,” one respondent recounted.

Other residents said they felt unsure about the protocol, whom to report to, or even what constituted harassment or misconduct. “I didn’t realize [an incident] was harassment until later,” one resident said. Others thought “minor” or “subtle” incidents did not warrant action; “they are typically microaggressions and appear accepted within the culture of the institution.”

Residents’ confusion heightened when the perpetrator was a patient. “I’m not sure what to do about that,” a respondent acknowledged. An emergency medicine resident added, “most of the time … it is the patients who are acting inappropriately, saying inappropriate things, etc. There is no way to file a complaint like that.”
 

Rewards and challenges for residents

Among the most rewarding parts of residency that respondents described were developing specific skills such as surgical techniques, job security, and “learning a little day by day” in the words of a 1st-year gastroenterology resident.

Others felt gratified by the chances to help patients and families, their teams, and to advance social justice and health equity.

But challenges abound – chiefly money struggles. A 3rd-year psychiatry resident lamented “being financially strapped in the prime of my life from student loans and low wages.”

Stress and emotional fatigue also came up often as major challenges. “Constantly being told to do more, more presentations, more papers, more research, more studying,” a 5th-year neurosurgery resident bemoaned. “Being expected to be at the top of my game despite being sleep-deprived, depressed, and burned out,” a 3rd-year ob.gyn. resident groused.

But some physician commenters urged residents to look for long-term growth behind the challenges. “Yes, it was hard, but the experience was phenomenal, and I am glad I did it,” one doctor said.

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

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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

Emergencies happen anywhere, anytime – and sometimes physicians find themselves in situations where they are the only ones who can help. “Is There a Doctor in the House?” is a new series telling these stories.

When the plane crashed, I was asleep. I had arrived the evening before with my wife and three sons at a house on Kezar Lake on the Maine–New Hampshire border. We were going to spend a week there with my wife’s four brothers and their families. I was woken by people screaming my name. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. My kids had been watching a float plane circling and gliding along the lake. It had crashed into the water and flipped upside down. My oldest brother-in-law jumped into his ski boat and we sped out to the scene.

All we can see are the plane’s pontoons. The rest is underwater. A woman has already surfaced, screaming. I dive in.

I find the woman’s husband and 3-year-old son struggling to get free from the plane through the smashed windshield. They manage to get to the surface. The pilot is dead, impaled through the chest by the left wing strut.

The big problem: A little girl, whom I would learn later is named Lauren, remained trapped. The water is murky but I can see her, a 5- or 6-year-old girl with this long hair, strapped in upside down and unconscious.

The mom and I dive down over and over, pulling and ripping at the door. We cannot get it open. Finally, I’m able to bend the door open enough where I can reach in, but I can’t undo the seatbelt. In my mind, I’m debating, should I try and go through the front windshield? I’m getting really tired, I can tell there’s fuel in the water, and I don’t want to drown in the plane. So I pop up to the surface and yell, “Does anyone have a knife?”

My brother-in-law shoots back to shore in the boat, screaming, “Get a knife!” My niece gets in the boat with one. I’m standing on the pontoon, and my niece is in the front of the boat calling, “Uncle Todd! Uncle Todd!” and she throws the knife. It goes way over my head. I can’t even jump for it, it’s so high.

I have to get the knife. So, I dive into the water to try and find it. Somehow, the black knife has landed on the white wing, 4 or 5 feet under the water. Pure luck. It could have sunk down a hundred feet into the lake. I grab the knife and hand it to the mom, Beth. She’s able to cut the seatbelt, and we both pull Lauren to the surface.

I lay her out on the pontoon. She has no pulse and her pupils are fixed and dilated. Her mom is yelling, “She’s dead, isn’t she?” I start CPR. My skin and eyes are burning from the airplane fuel in the water. I get her breathing, and her heart comes back very quickly. Lauren starts to vomit and I’m trying to keep her airway clear. She’s breathing spontaneously and she has a pulse, so I decide it’s time to move her to shore.

We pull the boat up to the dock and Lauren’s now having anoxic seizures. Her brain has been without oxygen, and now she’s getting perfused again. We get her to shore and lay her on the lawn. I’m still doing mouth-to-mouth, but she’s seizing like crazy, and I don’t have any way to control that. Beth is crying and wants to hold her daughter gently while I’m working.

Someone had called 911, and finally this dude shows up with an ambulance, and it’s like something out of World War II. All he has is an oxygen tank, but the mask is old and cracked. It’s too big for Lauren, but it sort of fits me, so I’m sucking in oxygen and blowing it into the girl’s mouth. I’m doing whatever I can, but I don’t have an IV to start. I have no fluids. I got nothing.

As it happens, I’d done my emergency medicine training at Maine Medical Center, so I tell someone to call them and get a Life Flight chopper. We have to drive somewhere where the chopper can land, so we take the ambulance to the parking lot of the closest store called the Wicked Good Store. That’s a common thing in Maine. Everything is “wicked good.”

The whole town is there by that point. The chopper arrives. The ambulance doors pop open and a woman says, “Todd?” And I say, “Heather?”

Heather is an emergency flight nurse whom I’d trained with many years ago. There’s immediate trust. She has all the right equipment. We put in breathing tubes and IVs. We stop Lauren from seizing. The kid is soon stable.

There is only one extra seat in the chopper, so I tell Beth to go. They take off.

Suddenly, I begin to doubt my decision. Lauren had been underwater for 15 minutes at minimum. I know how long that is. Did I do the right thing? Did I resuscitate a brain-dead child? I didn’t think about it at the time, but if that patient had come to me in the emergency department, I’m honestly not sure what I would have done.

So, I go home. And I don’t get a call. The FAA and sheriff arrive to take statements from us. I don’t hear from anyone.

The next day I start calling. No one will tell me anything, so I finally get to one of the pediatric ICU attendings who had trained me. He says Lauren literally woke up and said, “I have to go pee.” And that was it. She was 100% normal. I couldn’t believe it.

Here’s a theory: In kids, there’s something called the glottic reflex. I think her glottic reflex went off as soon as she hit the water, which basically closed her airway. So when she passed out, she could never get enough water in her lungs and still had enough air in there to keep her alive. Later, I got a call from her uncle. He could barely get the words out because he was in tears. He said Lauren was doing beautifully.  

Three days later, I drove to Lauren’s house with my wife and kids. I had her read to me. I watched her play on the jungle gym for motor function. All sorts of stuff. She was totally normal.

Beth told us that the night before the accident, her mother had given the women in her family what she called a “miracle bracelet,” a bracelet that is supposed to give you one miracle in your life. Beth said she had the bracelet on her wrist the day of the accident, and now it’s gone. “Saving Lauren’s life was my miracle,” she said.

Funny thing: For 20 years, I ran all the EMS, police, fire, ambulance, in Boulder, Colo., where I live. I wrote all the protocols, and I would never advise any of my paramedics to dive into jet fuel to save someone. That was risky. But at the time, it was totally automatic. I think it taught me not to give up in certain situations, because you really don’t know.

Dr. Dorfman is an emergency medicine physician in Boulder, Colo., and medical director at Cedalion Health.
 

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

They call me and I go.

– William Carlos Williams

I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu. When everyone’s got a cold, I’m somehow immune. The last time I threw up was June 29th, 1980. You see, I work out almost daily, eat vegan, and sleep plenty. I drink gallons of pressed juice and throw down a few high-quality supplements. Yes, I’m that guy: The one who never gets sick. Well, I was anyway.

I am no longer that guy since our little girl became a supersocial little toddler. My undefeated welterweight “never-sick” title has been obliterated by multiple knockouts. One was a wicked adenovirus that broke the no-vomit streak. At one point, I lay on the luxury gray tile bathroom floor hoping to go unconscious to make the nausea stop. I actually called out sick that day. Then with a nasty COVID-despite-vaccine infection. I called out again. Later with a hacking lower respiratory – RSV?! – bug. Called out. All of which our 2-year-old blonde, curly-haired vector transmitted to me with remarkable efficiency.

In fact, we reached the high water mark for physicians calling out sick from my department this year. That’s saying a lot. Our docs, like most, don’t call out sick.

We physicians have legendary stamina. Compared with other professionals, we are no less likely to become ill but a whopping 80% less likely to call out sick.

Presenteeism is our physician version of Omerta, a code of honor to never give in even at the expense of our, or our family’s, health and well-being. Every medical student is regaled with stories of physicians getting an IV before rounds or finishing clinic after their water broke. Why? In part it’s an indoctrination into this thing of ours we call Medicine: An elitist club that admits only those able to pass O-chem and hold diarrhea. But it is also because our medical system is so brittle that the slightest bend causes it to shatter. When I cancel a clinic, patients who have waited weeks for their spot have to be sent home. And for critical cases or those patients who don’t get the message, my already slammed colleagues have to cram the unlucky ones in between already-scheduled appointments. The guilt induced by inconveniencing our colleagues and our patients is more potent than dry heaves. And so we go. Suck it up. Sip ginger ale. Load up on acetaminophen. Carry on. This harms not only us, but also patients whom we put in the path of transmission. We become terrible 2-year-olds.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected]

They call me and I go.

– William Carlos Williams

I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu. When everyone’s got a cold, I’m somehow immune. The last time I threw up was June 29th, 1980. You see, I work out almost daily, eat vegan, and sleep plenty. I drink gallons of pressed juice and throw down a few high-quality supplements. Yes, I’m that guy: The one who never gets sick. Well, I was anyway.

I am no longer that guy since our little girl became a supersocial little toddler. My undefeated welterweight “never-sick” title has been obliterated by multiple knockouts. One was a wicked adenovirus that broke the no-vomit streak. At one point, I lay on the luxury gray tile bathroom floor hoping to go unconscious to make the nausea stop. I actually called out sick that day. Then with a nasty COVID-despite-vaccine infection. I called out again. Later with a hacking lower respiratory – RSV?! – bug. Called out. All of which our 2-year-old blonde, curly-haired vector transmitted to me with remarkable efficiency.

In fact, we reached the high water mark for physicians calling out sick from my department this year. That’s saying a lot. Our docs, like most, don’t call out sick.

We physicians have legendary stamina. Compared with other professionals, we are no less likely to become ill but a whopping 80% less likely to call out sick.

Presenteeism is our physician version of Omerta, a code of honor to never give in even at the expense of our, or our family’s, health and well-being. Every medical student is regaled with stories of physicians getting an IV before rounds or finishing clinic after their water broke. Why? In part it’s an indoctrination into this thing of ours we call Medicine: An elitist club that admits only those able to pass O-chem and hold diarrhea. But it is also because our medical system is so brittle that the slightest bend causes it to shatter. When I cancel a clinic, patients who have waited weeks for their spot have to be sent home. And for critical cases or those patients who don’t get the message, my already slammed colleagues have to cram the unlucky ones in between already-scheduled appointments. The guilt induced by inconveniencing our colleagues and our patients is more potent than dry heaves. And so we go. Suck it up. Sip ginger ale. Load up on acetaminophen. Carry on. This harms not only us, but also patients whom we put in the path of transmission. We become terrible 2-year-olds.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected]

They call me and I go.

– William Carlos Williams

I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu. When everyone’s got a cold, I’m somehow immune. The last time I threw up was June 29th, 1980. You see, I work out almost daily, eat vegan, and sleep plenty. I drink gallons of pressed juice and throw down a few high-quality supplements. Yes, I’m that guy: The one who never gets sick. Well, I was anyway.

I am no longer that guy since our little girl became a supersocial little toddler. My undefeated welterweight “never-sick” title has been obliterated by multiple knockouts. One was a wicked adenovirus that broke the no-vomit streak. At one point, I lay on the luxury gray tile bathroom floor hoping to go unconscious to make the nausea stop. I actually called out sick that day. Then with a nasty COVID-despite-vaccine infection. I called out again. Later with a hacking lower respiratory – RSV?! – bug. Called out. All of which our 2-year-old blonde, curly-haired vector transmitted to me with remarkable efficiency.

In fact, we reached the high water mark for physicians calling out sick from my department this year. That’s saying a lot. Our docs, like most, don’t call out sick.

We physicians have legendary stamina. Compared with other professionals, we are no less likely to become ill but a whopping 80% less likely to call out sick.

Presenteeism is our physician version of Omerta, a code of honor to never give in even at the expense of our, or our family’s, health and well-being. Every medical student is regaled with stories of physicians getting an IV before rounds or finishing clinic after their water broke. Why? In part it’s an indoctrination into this thing of ours we call Medicine: An elitist club that admits only those able to pass O-chem and hold diarrhea. But it is also because our medical system is so brittle that the slightest bend causes it to shatter. When I cancel a clinic, patients who have waited weeks for their spot have to be sent home. And for critical cases or those patients who don’t get the message, my already slammed colleagues have to cram the unlucky ones in between already-scheduled appointments. The guilt induced by inconveniencing our colleagues and our patients is more potent than dry heaves. And so we go. Suck it up. Sip ginger ale. Load up on acetaminophen. Carry on. This harms not only us, but also patients whom we put in the path of transmission. We become terrible 2-year-olds.

Dr. Benabio is director of Healthcare Transformation and chief of dermatology at Kaiser Permanente San Diego. The opinions expressed in this column are his own and do not represent those of Kaiser Permanente. Dr. Benabio is @Dermdoc on Twitter. Write to him at [email protected]

What’s the opposite of an antibiotic?

Everyone knows that LOTME loves a good dichotomy: yin/yang, good/evil, heads/tails, particle/wave, peanut butter/jelly. They’re all great. We’re also big fans of microbiomes, particularly the gut microbiome. But what if we could combine the two? A healthy and nutritious story about the gut microbiome, with a dash of added dichotomy for flavor. Is such a thing even possible? Let’s find out.

Nastya Dulhiier/Unsplash

First, we need an antibiotic, a drug designed to fight bacterial infections. If you’ve got strep throat, otitis media, or bubonic plague, there’s a good chance you will receive an antibiotic. That antibiotic will kill the bad bacteria that are making you sick, but it will also kill a lot of the good bacteria that inhabit your gut microbiome, which results in side effects like bloating and diarrhea.

It comes down to diversity, explained Elisa Marroquin, PhD, of Texas Christian University (Go Horned Frogs!): “In a human community, we need people that have different professions because we don’t all know how to do every single job. And so the same happens with bacteria. We need lots of different gut bacteria that know how to do different things.”

She and her colleagues reviewed 29 studies published over the last 7 years and found a way to preserve the diversity of a human gut microbiome that’s dealing with an antibiotic. Their solution? Prescribe a probiotic.

The way to fight the effects of stopping a bacterial infection is to provide food for what are, basically, other bacterial infections. Antibiotic/probiotic is a prescription for dichotomy, and it means we managed to combine gut microbiomes with a dichotomy. And you didn’t think we could do it.
 

The earphone of hearing aids

It’s estimated that up to 75% of people who need hearing aids don’t wear them. Why? Well, there’s the social stigma about not wanting to appear too old, and then there’s the cost factor.

Antoni Shkraba/Pexels

Is there a cheaper, less stigmatizing option to amplify hearing? The answer, according to otolaryngologist Yen-fu Cheng, MD, of Taipei Veterans General Hospital and associates, is wireless earphones. AirPods, if you want to be brand specific.

Airpods can be on the more expensive side – running about $129 for AirPods 2 and $249 for AirPods Pro – but when compared with premium hearing aids ($10,000), or even basic aids (about $1,500), the Apple products come off inexpensive after all.

The team tested the premium and basic hearing aids against the AirPods 2 and the AirPod Pro using Apple’s Live Listen feature, which helps amplify sound through the company’s wireless earphones and iPhones and was initially designed to assist people with normal hearing in situations such as birdwatching.

The AirPods Pro worked just as well as the basic hearing aid but not quite as well as the premium hearing aid in a quiet setting, while the AirPods 2 performed the worst. When tested in a noisy setting, the AirPods Pro was pretty comparable to the premium hearing aid, as long as the noise came from a lateral direction. Neither of the AirPod models did as well as the hearing aids with head-on noises.

Wireless earbuds may not be the perfect solution from a clinical standpoint, but they’re a good start for people who don’t have access to hearing aids, Dr. Cheng noted.

So who says headphones damage your hearing? They might actually help.
 

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the computer my soul to keep

Radiation is the boring hazard of space travel. No one dies in a space horror movie because they’ve been slowly exposed to too much cosmic radiation. It’s always “thrown out the airlock” this and “eaten by a xenomorph” that.

Michael Chiara/Unsplash

Radiation, however, is not something that can be ignored, but it turns out that a potential solution is another science fiction staple: artificial hibernation. Generally in sci-fi, hibernation is a plot convenience to get people from point A to point B in a ship that doesn’t break the laws of physics. Here on Earth, though, it is well known that animals naturally entering a state of torpor during hibernation gain significant resistance to radiation.

The problem, of course, is that humans don’t hibernate, and no matter how hard people who work 100-hour weeks for Elon Musk try, sleeping for months on end is simply something we can’t do. However, a new study shows that it’s possible to induce this torpor state in animals that don’t naturally hibernate. By injecting rats with adenosine 5’-monophosphate monohydrate and keeping them in a room held at 16° C, an international team of scientists successfully induced a synthetic torpor state.

That’s not all they did: The scientists also exposed the hibernating rats to a large dose of radiation approximating that found in deep space. Which isn’t something we’d like to explain to our significant other when we got home from work. “So how was your day?” “Oh, I irradiated a bunch of sleeping rats. … Don’t worry they’re fine!” Which they were. Thanks to the hypoxic and hypothermic state, the tissue was spared damage from the high-energy ion radiation.

Obviously, there’s a big difference between a rat and a human and a lot of work to be done, but the study does show that artificial hibernation is possible. Perhaps one day we’ll be able to fall asleep and wake up light-years away under an alien sky, and we won’t be horrifically mutated or riddled with cancer. If, however, you find yourself in hibernation on your way to Jupiter (or Saturn) to investigate a mysterious black monolith, we suggest sleeping with one eye open and gripping your pillow tight.

What’s the opposite of an antibiotic?

Everyone knows that LOTME loves a good dichotomy: yin/yang, good/evil, heads/tails, particle/wave, peanut butter/jelly. They’re all great. We’re also big fans of microbiomes, particularly the gut microbiome. But what if we could combine the two? A healthy and nutritious story about the gut microbiome, with a dash of added dichotomy for flavor. Is such a thing even possible? Let’s find out.

Nastya Dulhiier/Unsplash

First, we need an antibiotic, a drug designed to fight bacterial infections. If you’ve got strep throat, otitis media, or bubonic plague, there’s a good chance you will receive an antibiotic. That antibiotic will kill the bad bacteria that are making you sick, but it will also kill a lot of the good bacteria that inhabit your gut microbiome, which results in side effects like bloating and diarrhea.

It comes down to diversity, explained Elisa Marroquin, PhD, of Texas Christian University (Go Horned Frogs!): “In a human community, we need people that have different professions because we don’t all know how to do every single job. And so the same happens with bacteria. We need lots of different gut bacteria that know how to do different things.”

She and her colleagues reviewed 29 studies published over the last 7 years and found a way to preserve the diversity of a human gut microbiome that’s dealing with an antibiotic. Their solution? Prescribe a probiotic.

The way to fight the effects of stopping a bacterial infection is to provide food for what are, basically, other bacterial infections. Antibiotic/probiotic is a prescription for dichotomy, and it means we managed to combine gut microbiomes with a dichotomy. And you didn’t think we could do it.
 

The earphone of hearing aids

It’s estimated that up to 75% of people who need hearing aids don’t wear them. Why? Well, there’s the social stigma about not wanting to appear too old, and then there’s the cost factor.

Antoni Shkraba/Pexels

Is there a cheaper, less stigmatizing option to amplify hearing? The answer, according to otolaryngologist Yen-fu Cheng, MD, of Taipei Veterans General Hospital and associates, is wireless earphones. AirPods, if you want to be brand specific.

Airpods can be on the more expensive side – running about $129 for AirPods 2 and $249 for AirPods Pro – but when compared with premium hearing aids ($10,000), or even basic aids (about $1,500), the Apple products come off inexpensive after all.

The team tested the premium and basic hearing aids against the AirPods 2 and the AirPod Pro using Apple’s Live Listen feature, which helps amplify sound through the company’s wireless earphones and iPhones and was initially designed to assist people with normal hearing in situations such as birdwatching.

The AirPods Pro worked just as well as the basic hearing aid but not quite as well as the premium hearing aid in a quiet setting, while the AirPods 2 performed the worst. When tested in a noisy setting, the AirPods Pro was pretty comparable to the premium hearing aid, as long as the noise came from a lateral direction. Neither of the AirPod models did as well as the hearing aids with head-on noises.

Wireless earbuds may not be the perfect solution from a clinical standpoint, but they’re a good start for people who don’t have access to hearing aids, Dr. Cheng noted.

So who says headphones damage your hearing? They might actually help.
 

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the computer my soul to keep

Radiation is the boring hazard of space travel. No one dies in a space horror movie because they’ve been slowly exposed to too much cosmic radiation. It’s always “thrown out the airlock” this and “eaten by a xenomorph” that.

Michael Chiara/Unsplash

Radiation, however, is not something that can be ignored, but it turns out that a potential solution is another science fiction staple: artificial hibernation. Generally in sci-fi, hibernation is a plot convenience to get people from point A to point B in a ship that doesn’t break the laws of physics. Here on Earth, though, it is well known that animals naturally entering a state of torpor during hibernation gain significant resistance to radiation.

The problem, of course, is that humans don’t hibernate, and no matter how hard people who work 100-hour weeks for Elon Musk try, sleeping for months on end is simply something we can’t do. However, a new study shows that it’s possible to induce this torpor state in animals that don’t naturally hibernate. By injecting rats with adenosine 5’-monophosphate monohydrate and keeping them in a room held at 16° C, an international team of scientists successfully induced a synthetic torpor state.

That’s not all they did: The scientists also exposed the hibernating rats to a large dose of radiation approximating that found in deep space. Which isn’t something we’d like to explain to our significant other when we got home from work. “So how was your day?” “Oh, I irradiated a bunch of sleeping rats. … Don’t worry they’re fine!” Which they were. Thanks to the hypoxic and hypothermic state, the tissue was spared damage from the high-energy ion radiation.

Obviously, there’s a big difference between a rat and a human and a lot of work to be done, but the study does show that artificial hibernation is possible. Perhaps one day we’ll be able to fall asleep and wake up light-years away under an alien sky, and we won’t be horrifically mutated or riddled with cancer. If, however, you find yourself in hibernation on your way to Jupiter (or Saturn) to investigate a mysterious black monolith, we suggest sleeping with one eye open and gripping your pillow tight.

What’s the opposite of an antibiotic?

Everyone knows that LOTME loves a good dichotomy: yin/yang, good/evil, heads/tails, particle/wave, peanut butter/jelly. They’re all great. We’re also big fans of microbiomes, particularly the gut microbiome. But what if we could combine the two? A healthy and nutritious story about the gut microbiome, with a dash of added dichotomy for flavor. Is such a thing even possible? Let’s find out.

Nastya Dulhiier/Unsplash

First, we need an antibiotic, a drug designed to fight bacterial infections. If you’ve got strep throat, otitis media, or bubonic plague, there’s a good chance you will receive an antibiotic. That antibiotic will kill the bad bacteria that are making you sick, but it will also kill a lot of the good bacteria that inhabit your gut microbiome, which results in side effects like bloating and diarrhea.

It comes down to diversity, explained Elisa Marroquin, PhD, of Texas Christian University (Go Horned Frogs!): “In a human community, we need people that have different professions because we don’t all know how to do every single job. And so the same happens with bacteria. We need lots of different gut bacteria that know how to do different things.”

She and her colleagues reviewed 29 studies published over the last 7 years and found a way to preserve the diversity of a human gut microbiome that’s dealing with an antibiotic. Their solution? Prescribe a probiotic.

The way to fight the effects of stopping a bacterial infection is to provide food for what are, basically, other bacterial infections. Antibiotic/probiotic is a prescription for dichotomy, and it means we managed to combine gut microbiomes with a dichotomy. And you didn’t think we could do it.
 

The earphone of hearing aids

It’s estimated that up to 75% of people who need hearing aids don’t wear them. Why? Well, there’s the social stigma about not wanting to appear too old, and then there’s the cost factor.

Antoni Shkraba/Pexels

Is there a cheaper, less stigmatizing option to amplify hearing? The answer, according to otolaryngologist Yen-fu Cheng, MD, of Taipei Veterans General Hospital and associates, is wireless earphones. AirPods, if you want to be brand specific.

Airpods can be on the more expensive side – running about $129 for AirPods 2 and $249 for AirPods Pro – but when compared with premium hearing aids ($10,000), or even basic aids (about $1,500), the Apple products come off inexpensive after all.

The team tested the premium and basic hearing aids against the AirPods 2 and the AirPod Pro using Apple’s Live Listen feature, which helps amplify sound through the company’s wireless earphones and iPhones and was initially designed to assist people with normal hearing in situations such as birdwatching.

The AirPods Pro worked just as well as the basic hearing aid but not quite as well as the premium hearing aid in a quiet setting, while the AirPods 2 performed the worst. When tested in a noisy setting, the AirPods Pro was pretty comparable to the premium hearing aid, as long as the noise came from a lateral direction. Neither of the AirPod models did as well as the hearing aids with head-on noises.

Wireless earbuds may not be the perfect solution from a clinical standpoint, but they’re a good start for people who don’t have access to hearing aids, Dr. Cheng noted.

So who says headphones damage your hearing? They might actually help.
 

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the computer my soul to keep

Radiation is the boring hazard of space travel. No one dies in a space horror movie because they’ve been slowly exposed to too much cosmic radiation. It’s always “thrown out the airlock” this and “eaten by a xenomorph” that.

Michael Chiara/Unsplash

Radiation, however, is not something that can be ignored, but it turns out that a potential solution is another science fiction staple: artificial hibernation. Generally in sci-fi, hibernation is a plot convenience to get people from point A to point B in a ship that doesn’t break the laws of physics. Here on Earth, though, it is well known that animals naturally entering a state of torpor during hibernation gain significant resistance to radiation.

The problem, of course, is that humans don’t hibernate, and no matter how hard people who work 100-hour weeks for Elon Musk try, sleeping for months on end is simply something we can’t do. However, a new study shows that it’s possible to induce this torpor state in animals that don’t naturally hibernate. By injecting rats with adenosine 5’-monophosphate monohydrate and keeping them in a room held at 16° C, an international team of scientists successfully induced a synthetic torpor state.

That’s not all they did: The scientists also exposed the hibernating rats to a large dose of radiation approximating that found in deep space. Which isn’t something we’d like to explain to our significant other when we got home from work. “So how was your day?” “Oh, I irradiated a bunch of sleeping rats. … Don’t worry they’re fine!” Which they were. Thanks to the hypoxic and hypothermic state, the tissue was spared damage from the high-energy ion radiation.

Obviously, there’s a big difference between a rat and a human and a lot of work to be done, but the study does show that artificial hibernation is possible. Perhaps one day we’ll be able to fall asleep and wake up light-years away under an alien sky, and we won’t be horrifically mutated or riddled with cancer. If, however, you find yourself in hibernation on your way to Jupiter (or Saturn) to investigate a mysterious black monolith, we suggest sleeping with one eye open and gripping your pillow tight.

PAU, FRANCE – Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder tends to get worse over the months following the birth of a child. Therefore, it’s necessary to screen for it as early on as possible and to ensure that women who are affected are given the proper treatment. This was the message delivered during the Infogyn 2022 conference by Ludivine Franchitto, MD, a child psychiatrist at Toulouse University Hospital, France. Because postpartum PTSD is still not fully recognized, treatment remains inadequate and poorly documented.

Impact on the caregivers as well

“The situation is the same as what we saw with postpartum depression. The debate went on for 20 years before its existence was formally declared,” Dr. Franchitto noted. But for her, the important thing is not knowing whether a traumatic stress state may be experienced by the mother who had complications during pregnancy or delivery. Instead, it’s about focusing on the repercussions for the child.

During her presentation, Dr. Franchitto also pointed out that it’s necessary to recognize that caregivers who work in maternity wards may also be negatively impacted, as they routinely see the complications that women have during pregnancy and delivery. These workers may also develop a PTSD state, requiring support so that they can properly carry out their duties.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-V), posttraumatic stress disorder arises after exposure to actual (or threatened) death, serious injury, or sexual violence. Individuals who have witnessed a traumatic event in person or who have experienced repeated (or extreme) exposure to aversive details of traumatic events may also develop PTSD.

Dr. Franchitto mentioned some of the criteria needed to make the diagnosis. “Intrusive distressing memories of the event, recurrent distressing dreams related to the event, persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event, or negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event. And the duration of the disturbance is more than 1 month.” There may also be marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event (for example, irritable behavior, loss of awareness of present surroundings).
 

Prevalent in 18% of women in high-risk groups

According to the studies, there is a wide variability of PTSD rates. If referring only to traumatic symptoms (for example, depressive syndrome, suicidal ideation, hyperreactivity, and persistent avoidance), the rate could reach up to 40%. A 2016 meta-analysis of 59 studies found that the prevalence of childbirth-related PTSD was 5.9%.

The authors distinguished two groups of women: those without complications during pregnancy or during delivery and those with severe complications related to the pregnancy, a fear of giving birth, a difficult delivery, an emergency C-section, a baby born prematurely with birth defects, etc. Their analysis showed PTSD rates of 4% and 18.5%, respectively.

Surprisingly, the major risk factor for PTSD turned out to be uncontrollable vomiting during pregnancy (seen in 40% of postpartum PTSD cases). The birth of a baby with birth defects was the second risk factor (35%), and the third, a history of violence in the mother’s childhood (34%). Women who experienced depression during the delivery were also at higher risk.

Other risk factors identified were lack of communication with the health care team, lack of consent, lack of support from the medical staff, and a long labor. Conversely, a sense of control and the support of a partner play a protective role.
 

Early screening

“If the symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder aren’t treated after delivery, they tend to get worse over the period of 1 to 6 months following the child’s birth,” Dr. Franchitto indicated. This is why it’s necessary to screen for it as early as possible – in particular, by having the women fill out the City Birth Trauma Scale questionnaire – and provide proper treatment accordingly. When seeking to limit the effects of stress, early intervention by a psychologist may be beneficial.

Psychotherapy is the recommended first-line treatment for PTSD, especially cognitive behavioral therapy and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy. This approach aims to limit the mental and behavioral avoidance that prevents the traumatic memory from being integrated and processed as a regular memory.

The consequences that the mother’s PTSD state has on the child are well documented. “Children whose mothers had PTSD during pregnancy have a lower birth weight and a shorter breast-feeding duration,” Dr. Franchitto reported. With respect to the quality of the mother-child relationship and the long-term development of the child, “the studies have highly conflicting findings.”

At the end of the presentation, Professor Israël Nisand, MD, an ob.gyn. at the American Hospital of Paris and the former president of the National College of French Gynecologists and Obstetricians, made the following comment: “I often think that we underestimate the consequences that the mother’s posttraumatic stress has on the child postpartum.” He added, “Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder is a reality. Yet it isn’t screened for, let alone treated, even though it has serious consequences for the child.”

Dr. Franchitto also brought up the impact on members of the health care staff, the “second victims” of the traumatic events that occur while caring for the women in the maternity ward. “The estimated prevalence of PTSD symptoms among midwives is 22.9%,” which could lead to “a loss of confidence and a desire to leave the profession.”
 

Providing psychoeducation to health care staff

Dr. Franchitto believes that it’s essential to also protect caregivers who work in maternity wards. “It’s important to have the support of colleagues” – in particular, of team leaders – “and to share one’s experiences,” as long as one knows how to recognize the symptoms of posttraumatic stress through one’s emotions and is able to verbalize them.

She went on to say that providing psychoeducation to health care staff is therefore to be encouraged, as is “simulation-based training, for learning how to manage problematic situations.”

This content was originally published on Medscape French edition. A translated version appeared on Medscape.com.

PAU, FRANCE – Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder tends to get worse over the months following the birth of a child. Therefore, it’s necessary to screen for it as early on as possible and to ensure that women who are affected are given the proper treatment. This was the message delivered during the Infogyn 2022 conference by Ludivine Franchitto, MD, a child psychiatrist at Toulouse University Hospital, France. Because postpartum PTSD is still not fully recognized, treatment remains inadequate and poorly documented.

Impact on the caregivers as well

“The situation is the same as what we saw with postpartum depression. The debate went on for 20 years before its existence was formally declared,” Dr. Franchitto noted. But for her, the important thing is not knowing whether a traumatic stress state may be experienced by the mother who had complications during pregnancy or delivery. Instead, it’s about focusing on the repercussions for the child.

During her presentation, Dr. Franchitto also pointed out that it’s necessary to recognize that caregivers who work in maternity wards may also be negatively impacted, as they routinely see the complications that women have during pregnancy and delivery. These workers may also develop a PTSD state, requiring support so that they can properly carry out their duties.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-V), posttraumatic stress disorder arises after exposure to actual (or threatened) death, serious injury, or sexual violence. Individuals who have witnessed a traumatic event in person or who have experienced repeated (or extreme) exposure to aversive details of traumatic events may also develop PTSD.

Dr. Franchitto mentioned some of the criteria needed to make the diagnosis. “Intrusive distressing memories of the event, recurrent distressing dreams related to the event, persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event, or negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event. And the duration of the disturbance is more than 1 month.” There may also be marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event (for example, irritable behavior, loss of awareness of present surroundings).
 

Prevalent in 18% of women in high-risk groups

According to the studies, there is a wide variability of PTSD rates. If referring only to traumatic symptoms (for example, depressive syndrome, suicidal ideation, hyperreactivity, and persistent avoidance), the rate could reach up to 40%. A 2016 meta-analysis of 59 studies found that the prevalence of childbirth-related PTSD was 5.9%.

The authors distinguished two groups of women: those without complications during pregnancy or during delivery and those with severe complications related to the pregnancy, a fear of giving birth, a difficult delivery, an emergency C-section, a baby born prematurely with birth defects, etc. Their analysis showed PTSD rates of 4% and 18.5%, respectively.

Surprisingly, the major risk factor for PTSD turned out to be uncontrollable vomiting during pregnancy (seen in 40% of postpartum PTSD cases). The birth of a baby with birth defects was the second risk factor (35%), and the third, a history of violence in the mother’s childhood (34%). Women who experienced depression during the delivery were also at higher risk.

Other risk factors identified were lack of communication with the health care team, lack of consent, lack of support from the medical staff, and a long labor. Conversely, a sense of control and the support of a partner play a protective role.
 

Early screening

“If the symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder aren’t treated after delivery, they tend to get worse over the period of 1 to 6 months following the child’s birth,” Dr. Franchitto indicated. This is why it’s necessary to screen for it as early as possible – in particular, by having the women fill out the City Birth Trauma Scale questionnaire – and provide proper treatment accordingly. When seeking to limit the effects of stress, early intervention by a psychologist may be beneficial.

Psychotherapy is the recommended first-line treatment for PTSD, especially cognitive behavioral therapy and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy. This approach aims to limit the mental and behavioral avoidance that prevents the traumatic memory from being integrated and processed as a regular memory.

The consequences that the mother’s PTSD state has on the child are well documented. “Children whose mothers had PTSD during pregnancy have a lower birth weight and a shorter breast-feeding duration,” Dr. Franchitto reported. With respect to the quality of the mother-child relationship and the long-term development of the child, “the studies have highly conflicting findings.”

At the end of the presentation, Professor Israël Nisand, MD, an ob.gyn. at the American Hospital of Paris and the former president of the National College of French Gynecologists and Obstetricians, made the following comment: “I often think that we underestimate the consequences that the mother’s posttraumatic stress has on the child postpartum.” He added, “Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder is a reality. Yet it isn’t screened for, let alone treated, even though it has serious consequences for the child.”

Dr. Franchitto also brought up the impact on members of the health care staff, the “second victims” of the traumatic events that occur while caring for the women in the maternity ward. “The estimated prevalence of PTSD symptoms among midwives is 22.9%,” which could lead to “a loss of confidence and a desire to leave the profession.”
 

Providing psychoeducation to health care staff

Dr. Franchitto believes that it’s essential to also protect caregivers who work in maternity wards. “It’s important to have the support of colleagues” – in particular, of team leaders – “and to share one’s experiences,” as long as one knows how to recognize the symptoms of posttraumatic stress through one’s emotions and is able to verbalize them.

She went on to say that providing psychoeducation to health care staff is therefore to be encouraged, as is “simulation-based training, for learning how to manage problematic situations.”

This content was originally published on Medscape French edition. A translated version appeared on Medscape.com.

PAU, FRANCE – Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder tends to get worse over the months following the birth of a child. Therefore, it’s necessary to screen for it as early on as possible and to ensure that women who are affected are given the proper treatment. This was the message delivered during the Infogyn 2022 conference by Ludivine Franchitto, MD, a child psychiatrist at Toulouse University Hospital, France. Because postpartum PTSD is still not fully recognized, treatment remains inadequate and poorly documented.

Impact on the caregivers as well

“The situation is the same as what we saw with postpartum depression. The debate went on for 20 years before its existence was formally declared,” Dr. Franchitto noted. But for her, the important thing is not knowing whether a traumatic stress state may be experienced by the mother who had complications during pregnancy or delivery. Instead, it’s about focusing on the repercussions for the child.

During her presentation, Dr. Franchitto also pointed out that it’s necessary to recognize that caregivers who work in maternity wards may also be negatively impacted, as they routinely see the complications that women have during pregnancy and delivery. These workers may also develop a PTSD state, requiring support so that they can properly carry out their duties.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-V), posttraumatic stress disorder arises after exposure to actual (or threatened) death, serious injury, or sexual violence. Individuals who have witnessed a traumatic event in person or who have experienced repeated (or extreme) exposure to aversive details of traumatic events may also develop PTSD.

Dr. Franchitto mentioned some of the criteria needed to make the diagnosis. “Intrusive distressing memories of the event, recurrent distressing dreams related to the event, persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event, or negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event. And the duration of the disturbance is more than 1 month.” There may also be marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event (for example, irritable behavior, loss of awareness of present surroundings).
 

Prevalent in 18% of women in high-risk groups

According to the studies, there is a wide variability of PTSD rates. If referring only to traumatic symptoms (for example, depressive syndrome, suicidal ideation, hyperreactivity, and persistent avoidance), the rate could reach up to 40%. A 2016 meta-analysis of 59 studies found that the prevalence of childbirth-related PTSD was 5.9%.

The authors distinguished two groups of women: those without complications during pregnancy or during delivery and those with severe complications related to the pregnancy, a fear of giving birth, a difficult delivery, an emergency C-section, a baby born prematurely with birth defects, etc. Their analysis showed PTSD rates of 4% and 18.5%, respectively.

Surprisingly, the major risk factor for PTSD turned out to be uncontrollable vomiting during pregnancy (seen in 40% of postpartum PTSD cases). The birth of a baby with birth defects was the second risk factor (35%), and the third, a history of violence in the mother’s childhood (34%). Women who experienced depression during the delivery were also at higher risk.

Other risk factors identified were lack of communication with the health care team, lack of consent, lack of support from the medical staff, and a long labor. Conversely, a sense of control and the support of a partner play a protective role.
 

Early screening

“If the symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder aren’t treated after delivery, they tend to get worse over the period of 1 to 6 months following the child’s birth,” Dr. Franchitto indicated. This is why it’s necessary to screen for it as early as possible – in particular, by having the women fill out the City Birth Trauma Scale questionnaire – and provide proper treatment accordingly. When seeking to limit the effects of stress, early intervention by a psychologist may be beneficial.

Psychotherapy is the recommended first-line treatment for PTSD, especially cognitive behavioral therapy and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy. This approach aims to limit the mental and behavioral avoidance that prevents the traumatic memory from being integrated and processed as a regular memory.

The consequences that the mother’s PTSD state has on the child are well documented. “Children whose mothers had PTSD during pregnancy have a lower birth weight and a shorter breast-feeding duration,” Dr. Franchitto reported. With respect to the quality of the mother-child relationship and the long-term development of the child, “the studies have highly conflicting findings.”

At the end of the presentation, Professor Israël Nisand, MD, an ob.gyn. at the American Hospital of Paris and the former president of the National College of French Gynecologists and Obstetricians, made the following comment: “I often think that we underestimate the consequences that the mother’s posttraumatic stress has on the child postpartum.” He added, “Postpartum posttraumatic stress disorder is a reality. Yet it isn’t screened for, let alone treated, even though it has serious consequences for the child.”

Dr. Franchitto also brought up the impact on members of the health care staff, the “second victims” of the traumatic events that occur while caring for the women in the maternity ward. “The estimated prevalence of PTSD symptoms among midwives is 22.9%,” which could lead to “a loss of confidence and a desire to leave the profession.”
 

Providing psychoeducation to health care staff

Dr. Franchitto believes that it’s essential to also protect caregivers who work in maternity wards. “It’s important to have the support of colleagues” – in particular, of team leaders – “and to share one’s experiences,” as long as one knows how to recognize the symptoms of posttraumatic stress through one’s emotions and is able to verbalize them.

She went on to say that providing psychoeducation to health care staff is therefore to be encouraged, as is “simulation-based training, for learning how to manage problematic situations.”

This content was originally published on Medscape French edition. A translated version appeared on Medscape.com.

Roughly 7% of all adult Americans may currently have had long COVID, with symptoms that have lasted 3 months or longer, according to the latest U.S. government survey done in October. More than a quarter say their condition is severe enough to significantly limit their day-to-day activities – yet the problem is only barely starting to get the attention of employers, the health care system, and policymakers.

With no cure or treatment in sight, long COVID is already burdening not only the health care system, but also the economy – and that burden is set to grow. Many experts worry about the possible long-term ripple effects, from increased spending on medical care costs to lost wages due to not being able to work, as well as the policy implications that come with addressing these issues.

“At this point, anyone who’s looking at this seriously would say this is a huge deal,” says senior Brookings Institution fellow Katie Bach, the author of a study that analyzed long COVID’s impact on the labor market.

“We need a real concerted focus on treating these people, which means both research and the clinical side, and figuring out how to build a labor market that is more inclusive of people with disabilities,” she said.

It’s not only that many people are affected. It’s that they are often affected for months and possibly even years.

The U.S. government figures suggest more than 18 million people could have symptoms of long COVID right now. The latest Household Pulse Survey by the Census Bureau and the National Center for Health Statistics takes data from 41,415 people.

A preprint of a study by researchers from City University of New York, posted on medRxiv in September and based on a similar population survey done between June 30 and July 2, drew comparable results. The study has not been peer reviewed.

More than 7% of all those who answered said they had long COVID at the time of the survey, which the researchers said corresponded to approximately 18.5 million U.S. adults. The same study found that a quarter of those, or an estimated 4.7 million adults, said their daily activities were impacted “a lot.”

This can translate into pain not only for the patients, but for governments and employers, too.

In high-income countries around the world, government surveys and other studies are shedding light on the extent to which post-COVID-19 symptoms – commonly known as long COVID – are affecting populations. While results vary, they generally fall within similar ranges.

The World Health Organization estimates that between 10% and 20% of those with COVID-19 go on to have an array of medium- to long-term post-COVID-19 symptoms that range from mild to debilitating. The U.S. Government Accountability Office puts that estimate at 10% to 30%; one of the latest studies published at the end of October in The Journal of the American Medical Association found that 15% of U.S. adults who had tested positive for COVID-19 reported current long COVID symptoms. Elsewhere, a study from the Netherlands published in The Lancet in August found that one in eight COVID-19 cases, or 12.7%, were likely to become long COVID.

“It’s very clear that the condition is devastating people’s lives and livelihoods,” WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus wrote in an article for The Guardian newspaper in October.

“The world has already lost a significant number of the workforce to illness, death, fatigue, unplanned retirement due to an increase in long-term disability, which not only impacts the health system, but is a hit to the overarching economy … the impact of long COVID for all countries is very serious and needs immediate and sustained action equivalent to its scale.”
 

Global snapshot: Lasting symptoms, impact on activities

Patients describe a spectrum of persistent issues, with extreme fatigue, brain fog or cognitive problems, and shortness of breath among the most common complaints. Many also have manageable symptoms that worsen significantly after even mild physical or mental exertion.

Women appear almost twice as likely as men to get long COVID. Many patients have other medical conditions and disabilities that make them more vulnerable to the condition. Those who face greater obstacles accessing health care due to discrimination or socioeconomic inequity are at higher risk as well. 

While many are older, a large number are also in their prime working age. The Census Bureau data show that people ages 40-49 are more likely than any other group to get long COVID, which has broader implications for labor markets and the global economy. Already, experts have estimated that long COVID is likely to cost the U.S. trillions of dollars and affect multiple industries.

“Whether they’re in the financial world, the medical system, lawyers, they’re telling me they’re sitting at the computer screen and they’re unable to process the data,” said Zachary Schwartz, MD, medical director for Vancouver General Hospital’s Post-COVID-19 Recovery Clinic.

“That is what’s most distressing for people, in that they’re not working, they’re not making money, and they don’t know when, or if, they’re going to get better.”

Nearly a third of respondents in the Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey who said they have had COVID-19 reported symptoms that lasted 3 months or longer. People between the ages of 30 and 59 were the most affected, with about 32% reporting symptoms. Across the entire adult U.S. population, the survey found that 1 in 7 adults have had long COVID at some point during the pandemic, with about 1 in 18 saying it limited their activity to some degree, and 1 in 50 saying they have faced “a lot” of limits on their activities. Any way these numbers are dissected, long COVID has impacted a large swath of the population.

Yet research into the causes and possible treatments of long COVID is just getting underway.

“The amount of energy and time devoted to it is way, way less than it should, given how many people are likely affected,” said David Cutler, PhD, professor of economics at Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., who has written about the economic cost of long COVID. “We’re way, way underdoing it here. And I think that’s really a terrible thing.”

Population surveys and studies from around the world show that long COVID lives up to its name, with people reporting serious symptoms for months on end.

In October, Statistics Canada and the Public Health Agency of Canada published early results from a questionnaire done between spring and summer 2022 that found just under 15% of adults who had a confirmed or suspected case of COVID-19 went on to have new or continuing symptoms 3 or more months later. Nearly half, or 47.3%, dealt with symptoms that lasted a year or more. More than one in five said their symptoms “often or always” limited their day-to-day activities, which included routine tasks such as preparing meals, doing errands and chores, and basic functions such as personal care and moving around in their homes.

Nearly three-quarters of workers or students said they missed an average of 20 days of work or school. 

“We haven’t yet been able to determine exactly when symptoms resolve,” said Rainu Kaushal, MD, the senior associate dean for clinical research at Weill Cornell Medicine in New York. She is co-leading a national study on long COVID in adults and children, funded by the National Institutes of Health RECOVER Initiative.

“But there does seem to be, for many of the milder symptoms, resolution at about 4-6 weeks. There seems to be a second point of resolution around 6 months for certain symptoms, and then some symptoms do seem to be permanent, and those tend to be patients who have underlying conditions,” she said.
 

Reducing the risk

Given all the data so far, experts recommend urgent policy changes to help people with long COVID.

“The population needs to be prepared, that understanding long COVID is going to be a very long and difficult process,” said Alexander Charney, MD, PhD, associate professor and the lead principal investigator of the RECOVER adult cohort at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. He said the government can do a great deal to help, including setting up a network of connected clinics treating long COVID, standardizing best practices, and sharing information.

“That would go a long way towards making sure that every person feels like they’re not too far away from a clinic where they can get treated for this particular condition,” he said.

But the only known way to prevent long COVID is to prevent COVID-19 infections in the first place, experts say. That means equitable access to tests, therapeutics, and vaccines.

“I will say that avoiding COVID remains the best treatment in the arsenal right now,” said Dr. Kaushal. This means masking, avoiding crowded places with poor ventilation and high exposure risk, and being up to date on vaccinations, she said.

A number of papers – including a large U.K. study published in May 2022, another one from July, and the JAMA study from October – all suggest that vaccinations can help reduce the risk of long COVID.

“I am absolutely of the belief that vaccination has reduced the incidence and overall amount of long COVID … [and is] still by far the best thing the public can do,” said Dr. Schwartz.

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

Roughly 7% of all adult Americans may currently have had long COVID, with symptoms that have lasted 3 months or longer, according to the latest U.S. government survey done in October. More than a quarter say their condition is severe enough to significantly limit their day-to-day activities – yet the problem is only barely starting to get the attention of employers, the health care system, and policymakers.

With no cure or treatment in sight, long COVID is already burdening not only the health care system, but also the economy – and that burden is set to grow. Many experts worry about the possible long-term ripple effects, from increased spending on medical care costs to lost wages due to not being able to work, as well as the policy implications that come with addressing these issues.

“At this point, anyone who’s looking at this seriously would say this is a huge deal,” says senior Brookings Institution fellow Katie Bach, the author of a study that analyzed long COVID’s impact on the labor market.

“We need a real concerted focus on treating these people, which means both research and the clinical side, and figuring out how to build a labor market that is more inclusive of people with disabilities,” she said.

It’s not only that many people are affected. It’s that they are often affected for months and possibly even years.

The U.S. government figures suggest more than 18 million people could have symptoms of long COVID right now. The latest Household Pulse Survey by the Census Bureau and the National Center for Health Statistics takes data from 41,415 people.

A preprint of a study by researchers from City University of New York, posted on medRxiv in September and based on a similar population survey done between June 30 and July 2, drew comparable results. The study has not been peer reviewed.

More than 7% of all those who answered said they had long COVID at the time of the survey, which the researchers said corresponded to approximately 18.5 million U.S. adults. The same study found that a quarter of those, or an estimated 4.7 million adults, said their daily activities were impacted “a lot.”

This can translate into pain not only for the patients, but for governments and employers, too.

In high-income countries around the world, government surveys and other studies are shedding light on the extent to which post-COVID-19 symptoms – commonly known as long COVID – are affecting populations. While results vary, they generally fall within similar ranges.

The World Health Organization estimates that between 10% and 20% of those with COVID-19 go on to have an array of medium- to long-term post-COVID-19 symptoms that range from mild to debilitating. The U.S. Government Accountability Office puts that estimate at 10% to 30%; one of the latest studies published at the end of October in The Journal of the American Medical Association found that 15% of U.S. adults who had tested positive for COVID-19 reported current long COVID symptoms. Elsewhere, a study from the Netherlands published in The Lancet in August found that one in eight COVID-19 cases, or 12.7%, were likely to become long COVID.

“It’s very clear that the condition is devastating people’s lives and livelihoods,” WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus wrote in an article for The Guardian newspaper in October.

“The world has already lost a significant number of the workforce to illness, death, fatigue, unplanned retirement due to an increase in long-term disability, which not only impacts the health system, but is a hit to the overarching economy … the impact of long COVID for all countries is very serious and needs immediate and sustained action equivalent to its scale.”
 

Global snapshot: Lasting symptoms, impact on activities

Patients describe a spectrum of persistent issues, with extreme fatigue, brain fog or cognitive problems, and shortness of breath among the most common complaints. Many also have manageable symptoms that worsen significantly after even mild physical or mental exertion.

Women appear almost twice as likely as men to get long COVID. Many patients have other medical conditions and disabilities that make them more vulnerable to the condition. Those who face greater obstacles accessing health care due to discrimination or socioeconomic inequity are at higher risk as well. 

While many are older, a large number are also in their prime working age. The Census Bureau data show that people ages 40-49 are more likely than any other group to get long COVID, which has broader implications for labor markets and the global economy. Already, experts have estimated that long COVID is likely to cost the U.S. trillions of dollars and affect multiple industries.

“Whether they’re in the financial world, the medical system, lawyers, they’re telling me they’re sitting at the computer screen and they’re unable to process the data,” said Zachary Schwartz, MD, medical director for Vancouver General Hospital’s Post-COVID-19 Recovery Clinic.

“That is what’s most distressing for people, in that they’re not working, they’re not making money, and they don’t know when, or if, they’re going to get better.”

Nearly a third of respondents in the Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey who said they have had COVID-19 reported symptoms that lasted 3 months or longer. People between the ages of 30 and 59 were the most affected, with about 32% reporting symptoms. Across the entire adult U.S. population, the survey found that 1 in 7 adults have had long COVID at some point during the pandemic, with about 1 in 18 saying it limited their activity to some degree, and 1 in 50 saying they have faced “a lot” of limits on their activities. Any way these numbers are dissected, long COVID has impacted a large swath of the population.

Yet research into the causes and possible treatments of long COVID is just getting underway.

“The amount of energy and time devoted to it is way, way less than it should, given how many people are likely affected,” said David Cutler, PhD, professor of economics at Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., who has written about the economic cost of long COVID. “We’re way, way underdoing it here. And I think that’s really a terrible thing.”

Population surveys and studies from around the world show that long COVID lives up to its name, with people reporting serious symptoms for months on end.

In October, Statistics Canada and the Public Health Agency of Canada published early results from a questionnaire done between spring and summer 2022 that found just under 15% of adults who had a confirmed or suspected case of COVID-19 went on to have new or continuing symptoms 3 or more months later. Nearly half, or 47.3%, dealt with symptoms that lasted a year or more. More than one in five said their symptoms “often or always” limited their day-to-day activities, which included routine tasks such as preparing meals, doing errands and chores, and basic functions such as personal care and moving around in their homes.

Nearly three-quarters of workers or students said they missed an average of 20 days of work or school. 

“We haven’t yet been able to determine exactly when symptoms resolve,” said Rainu Kaushal, MD, the senior associate dean for clinical research at Weill Cornell Medicine in New York. She is co-leading a national study on long COVID in adults and children, funded by the National Institutes of Health RECOVER Initiative.

“But there does seem to be, for many of the milder symptoms, resolution at about 4-6 weeks. There seems to be a second point of resolution around 6 months for certain symptoms, and then some symptoms do seem to be permanent, and those tend to be patients who have underlying conditions,” she said.
 

Reducing the risk

Given all the data so far, experts recommend urgent policy changes to help people with long COVID.

“The population needs to be prepared, that understanding long COVID is going to be a very long and difficult process,” said Alexander Charney, MD, PhD, associate professor and the lead principal investigator of the RECOVER adult cohort at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. He said the government can do a great deal to help, including setting up a network of connected clinics treating long COVID, standardizing best practices, and sharing information.

“That would go a long way towards making sure that every person feels like they’re not too far away from a clinic where they can get treated for this particular condition,” he said.

But the only known way to prevent long COVID is to prevent COVID-19 infections in the first place, experts say. That means equitable access to tests, therapeutics, and vaccines.

“I will say that avoiding COVID remains the best treatment in the arsenal right now,” said Dr. Kaushal. This means masking, avoiding crowded places with poor ventilation and high exposure risk, and being up to date on vaccinations, she said.

A number of papers – including a large U.K. study published in May 2022, another one from July, and the JAMA study from October – all suggest that vaccinations can help reduce the risk of long COVID.

“I am absolutely of the belief that vaccination has reduced the incidence and overall amount of long COVID … [and is] still by far the best thing the public can do,” said Dr. Schwartz.

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

Roughly 7% of all adult Americans may currently have had long COVID, with symptoms that have lasted 3 months or longer, according to the latest U.S. government survey done in October. More than a quarter say their condition is severe enough to significantly limit their day-to-day activities – yet the problem is only barely starting to get the attention of employers, the health care system, and policymakers.

With no cure or treatment in sight, long COVID is already burdening not only the health care system, but also the economy – and that burden is set to grow. Many experts worry about the possible long-term ripple effects, from increased spending on medical care costs to lost wages due to not being able to work, as well as the policy implications that come with addressing these issues.

“At this point, anyone who’s looking at this seriously would say this is a huge deal,” says senior Brookings Institution fellow Katie Bach, the author of a study that analyzed long COVID’s impact on the labor market.

“We need a real concerted focus on treating these people, which means both research and the clinical side, and figuring out how to build a labor market that is more inclusive of people with disabilities,” she said.

It’s not only that many people are affected. It’s that they are often affected for months and possibly even years.

The U.S. government figures suggest more than 18 million people could have symptoms of long COVID right now. The latest Household Pulse Survey by the Census Bureau and the National Center for Health Statistics takes data from 41,415 people.

A preprint of a study by researchers from City University of New York, posted on medRxiv in September and based on a similar population survey done between June 30 and July 2, drew comparable results. The study has not been peer reviewed.

More than 7% of all those who answered said they had long COVID at the time of the survey, which the researchers said corresponded to approximately 18.5 million U.S. adults. The same study found that a quarter of those, or an estimated 4.7 million adults, said their daily activities were impacted “a lot.”

This can translate into pain not only for the patients, but for governments and employers, too.

In high-income countries around the world, government surveys and other studies are shedding light on the extent to which post-COVID-19 symptoms – commonly known as long COVID – are affecting populations. While results vary, they generally fall within similar ranges.

The World Health Organization estimates that between 10% and 20% of those with COVID-19 go on to have an array of medium- to long-term post-COVID-19 symptoms that range from mild to debilitating. The U.S. Government Accountability Office puts that estimate at 10% to 30%; one of the latest studies published at the end of October in The Journal of the American Medical Association found that 15% of U.S. adults who had tested positive for COVID-19 reported current long COVID symptoms. Elsewhere, a study from the Netherlands published in The Lancet in August found that one in eight COVID-19 cases, or 12.7%, were likely to become long COVID.

“It’s very clear that the condition is devastating people’s lives and livelihoods,” WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus wrote in an article for The Guardian newspaper in October.

“The world has already lost a significant number of the workforce to illness, death, fatigue, unplanned retirement due to an increase in long-term disability, which not only impacts the health system, but is a hit to the overarching economy … the impact of long COVID for all countries is very serious and needs immediate and sustained action equivalent to its scale.”
 

Global snapshot: Lasting symptoms, impact on activities

Patients describe a spectrum of persistent issues, with extreme fatigue, brain fog or cognitive problems, and shortness of breath among the most common complaints. Many also have manageable symptoms that worsen significantly after even mild physical or mental exertion.

Women appear almost twice as likely as men to get long COVID. Many patients have other medical conditions and disabilities that make them more vulnerable to the condition. Those who face greater obstacles accessing health care due to discrimination or socioeconomic inequity are at higher risk as well. 

While many are older, a large number are also in their prime working age. The Census Bureau data show that people ages 40-49 are more likely than any other group to get long COVID, which has broader implications for labor markets and the global economy. Already, experts have estimated that long COVID is likely to cost the U.S. trillions of dollars and affect multiple industries.

“Whether they’re in the financial world, the medical system, lawyers, they’re telling me they’re sitting at the computer screen and they’re unable to process the data,” said Zachary Schwartz, MD, medical director for Vancouver General Hospital’s Post-COVID-19 Recovery Clinic.

“That is what’s most distressing for people, in that they’re not working, they’re not making money, and they don’t know when, or if, they’re going to get better.”

Nearly a third of respondents in the Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey who said they have had COVID-19 reported symptoms that lasted 3 months or longer. People between the ages of 30 and 59 were the most affected, with about 32% reporting symptoms. Across the entire adult U.S. population, the survey found that 1 in 7 adults have had long COVID at some point during the pandemic, with about 1 in 18 saying it limited their activity to some degree, and 1 in 50 saying they have faced “a lot” of limits on their activities. Any way these numbers are dissected, long COVID has impacted a large swath of the population.

Yet research into the causes and possible treatments of long COVID is just getting underway.

“The amount of energy and time devoted to it is way, way less than it should, given how many people are likely affected,” said David Cutler, PhD, professor of economics at Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., who has written about the economic cost of long COVID. “We’re way, way underdoing it here. And I think that’s really a terrible thing.”

Population surveys and studies from around the world show that long COVID lives up to its name, with people reporting serious symptoms for months on end.

In October, Statistics Canada and the Public Health Agency of Canada published early results from a questionnaire done between spring and summer 2022 that found just under 15% of adults who had a confirmed or suspected case of COVID-19 went on to have new or continuing symptoms 3 or more months later. Nearly half, or 47.3%, dealt with symptoms that lasted a year or more. More than one in five said their symptoms “often or always” limited their day-to-day activities, which included routine tasks such as preparing meals, doing errands and chores, and basic functions such as personal care and moving around in their homes.

Nearly three-quarters of workers or students said they missed an average of 20 days of work or school. 

“We haven’t yet been able to determine exactly when symptoms resolve,” said Rainu Kaushal, MD, the senior associate dean for clinical research at Weill Cornell Medicine in New York. She is co-leading a national study on long COVID in adults and children, funded by the National Institutes of Health RECOVER Initiative.

“But there does seem to be, for many of the milder symptoms, resolution at about 4-6 weeks. There seems to be a second point of resolution around 6 months for certain symptoms, and then some symptoms do seem to be permanent, and those tend to be patients who have underlying conditions,” she said.
 

Reducing the risk

Given all the data so far, experts recommend urgent policy changes to help people with long COVID.

“The population needs to be prepared, that understanding long COVID is going to be a very long and difficult process,” said Alexander Charney, MD, PhD, associate professor and the lead principal investigator of the RECOVER adult cohort at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. He said the government can do a great deal to help, including setting up a network of connected clinics treating long COVID, standardizing best practices, and sharing information.

“That would go a long way towards making sure that every person feels like they’re not too far away from a clinic where they can get treated for this particular condition,” he said.

But the only known way to prevent long COVID is to prevent COVID-19 infections in the first place, experts say. That means equitable access to tests, therapeutics, and vaccines.

“I will say that avoiding COVID remains the best treatment in the arsenal right now,” said Dr. Kaushal. This means masking, avoiding crowded places with poor ventilation and high exposure risk, and being up to date on vaccinations, she said.

A number of papers – including a large U.K. study published in May 2022, another one from July, and the JAMA study from October – all suggest that vaccinations can help reduce the risk of long COVID.

“I am absolutely of the belief that vaccination has reduced the incidence and overall amount of long COVID … [and is] still by far the best thing the public can do,” said Dr. Schwartz.

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