Commentary

We are all seeing more children on the autism spectrum than we ever expected. With a Centers for Disease Control–estimated prevalence of 1 in 44, the average pediatrician will be caring for 45 children with autism. It may feel like even more as parents bring in their children with related concerns or fears. Early entry into services has been shown to improve functioning, making early identification important. However, screening at the youngest ages has important limitations.

Sharing a concern about possible autism with parents is a painful aspect of primary care practice. We want to get it right, not frighten parents unnecessarily, nor miss children and delay intervention.

Autism screening is recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics at 18- and 24-month pediatric well-child visits. There are several reasons for screening repeatedly: Autism symptoms emerge gradually in the toddler period; about 32% of children later found to have autism were developing in a typical pattern and appeared normal at 18 months only to regress by age 24 months; children may miss the 18 month screen; and all screens have false negatives as well as false positives. But even screening at these two ages is not enough.

One criticism of current screening tests pointed out by the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force has been a problem with the sample used to develop or validate the tool. Many test development studies included only children at risk by being in early intervention, siblings of children with diagnosed autism, or children only failing the screening tests rather than a community sample that the screen in actually used for.

Another obstacle to prediction of autism diagnoses made years later is that some children may not have had any clinical manifestations at the younger age even as judged by the best gold standard testing and, thus, negative screens were ambiguous. Additionally, data from prospective studies of high-risk infant siblings reveal that only 18% of children diagnosed with autism at 36 months were given that diagnosis at 18 months of age despite use of comprehensive diagnostic assessments.

Prevalence is also reported as 30% higher at age 8-12 years as at 3-7 years on gold-standard tests. Children identified later with autism tend to have milder symptoms and higher cognitive functioning. Therefore, we need some humility in thinking we can identify children as early as 18 months; rather, we need to use the best available methods at all ages and remain vigilant to symptoms as they evolve as well as to new screening and testing measures.

The most commonly used parent report screen is the 20-item Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers–Revised (M-CHAT-R), a modification of the original CHAT screen. To have reasonable positive predictive value, the M-CHAT-R authors recommend a clinician or trained staff member conduct a structured follow-up interview with the parent when the M-CHAT-R has a score of 3-7. Scores of 8 or more reflect enough symptoms to more strongly predict an autism diagnosis and thus the interview may be skipped in those cases. The recommended two-step process is called M-CHAT-R/F. At 18 months without the R/F, a positive M-CHAT-R only is associated with an autism diagnosis 27% of the time (PPV, 0.27); which is unacceptable for primary care use.

Unfortunately, the M-CHAT-R/F appears to be less accurate for 18-month-olds than 24-month-olds, in part because its yes/no response options are harder for a caregiver to answer, especially for behaviors just developing, or because of lack of experience with toddlers.

An alternative modification of the original CHAT called the Quantitative CHAT or Q-CHAT-10 has a range of response options for the caregiver; for example, always/usually/sometimes/rarely/never or many times a day/a few times a day/a few times a week/less than once a week/never. The authors of the Q-CHAT-10, however, recommend a summary pass/fail result for ease of use rather than using the range of response option values in the score. We recently published a study testing accuracy using add-up scoring that utilized the entire range of response option values, called Q-CHAT-10-O (O for ordinal), for children 16-20 months old as well as cartoon depictions of the behaviors. Our study also included diagnostic testing of screen-negative as well as screen-positive children to accurately calculate sensitivity and specificity for this method. In our study, Q-CHAT-10-O with a cutoff score greater than 11 showed higher sensitivity (0.63) than either M-CHAT-R/F (0.34) or Q-CHAT-10 (0.31) for this age range although the PPV (0.35) and negative predictive value (0.92) were comparable with M-CHAT R/F. Although Q-CHAT-10-O sensitivity (0.63) is less than M-CHAT-R (without follow-up; 0.73) and specificity (0.79) is less than the two-stage R/F procedure (0.90), on balance, it is more accurate and more practical for a primary care population. After 20 months of age, the M-CHAT-R/F has adequate accuracy to rescreen, if indicated, and for the subsequent 24 month screening. Language items are often of highest value in predicting outcomes in several tools including in the screen we are now validating for 18 month olds.

The Q-CHAT-10-O with ordinal scoring and pictures can also be recommended because it shows advantages over M-CHAT-R/F with half the number of items (10 vs. 20), no requirement for a follow-up interview, and improved sensitivity. Unlike M-CHAT-R, it also contributes to equity in screening because results did not differ depending on race or socioeconomic background.

Is there an even better way to detect autism in primary care? In 2022 an article was published regarding an exciting method of early autism detection called the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised (SACS-R), an eight-item observation checklist completed at public health nurse check-ups in Australia. The observers had 4 years of nursing degree education and a 3.5-hour training session.

The SACS-R and the preschool version (for older children) had significant associations with diagnostic testing at 12, 18, 24, and 42 months. The SACS-R had excellent PPV (82.6%), NPV (98.7%), and specificity (99.6%) and moderate sensitivity (61.5%) when used between 12 and 24 months of age. Pointing, eye contact, waving “bye, bye,” social communication by showing, and pretend play were the key indicators for observations at 18 months, with absence of three or more indicating risk for autism. Different key indicators were used at the other ages, reflecting the evolution of autism symptoms. This hybrid (observation and scoring) surveillance method by professionals shows hopeful data for the critical ability to identify children at risk for autism in primary care very early but requires more than parent report, that is, new levels of autism-specific clinician training and direct observations at multiple visits over time.

The takeaway is to remember that we should all watch closely for early signs of autism, informed by research on the key findings that a professional might observe, as well as by using the best screens available. We should remember that both false positives and false negatives are inherent in screening, especially at the youngest ages. We need to combine our concern with the parent’s concern as well as screen results and be sure to follow-up closely as symptoms can change in even a few months. Many factors may prevent a family from returning to see us or following our advice to go for testing or intervention, so tracking the child and their service use is an important part of the good care we strive to provide children with autism.

Other screening tools

You may have heard of other parent-report screens for autism. It is important to compare their accuracy specifically for 18-month-olds in a community setting.

• The Infant Toddler Checklist (https://psychology-tools.com/test/infant-toddler-checklist) has moderate overall psychometrics with sensitivity ranging from 0.55 to 0.77; specificity from 0.42 to 0.85; PPV from 0.20 to 0.55; and NPV from 0.83 to 0.94. However, the data were based on a sample including both community-dwelling toddlers and those with a family history of autism.
• The Brief Infant-Toddler Social and Emotional Assessment (https://eprovide.mapi-trust.org/instruments/brief-infant-toddler-social-emotional-assessment/) – the screen’s four autism-specific scales had high specificity (84%-90%) but low sensitivity (40%-52%).
• Canvas Dx (https://canvasdx.com/) from the Cognoa company is not a parent-report measure but rather a three-part evaluation including an app-based parent questionnaire, parent uploads of home videos analyzed by a specialist, and a 13- to 15-item primary care physician observational checklist. There were 56 diagnosed of the 426 children in the 18- to 24-month-old range from a sample of children presenting with parent or clinician concerns rather than from a community sample.

Dr. Howard is assistant professor of pediatrics at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and creator of CHADIS (www.CHADIS.com). She had no other relevant disclosures. Dr. Howard’s contribution to this publication was as a paid expert to MDedge News. Email her at [email protected].

References

Sturner R et al. Autism screening at 18 months of age: A comparison of the Q-CHAT-10 and M-CHAT screeners. Molecular Autism. Jan 3;13(1):2.

Barbaro J et al. Diagnostic accuracy of the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised with preschool tool for early autism detection in very young children. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(3):e2146415.

We are all seeing more children on the autism spectrum than we ever expected. With a Centers for Disease Control–estimated prevalence of 1 in 44, the average pediatrician will be caring for 45 children with autism. It may feel like even more as parents bring in their children with related concerns or fears. Early entry into services has been shown to improve functioning, making early identification important. However, screening at the youngest ages has important limitations.

Sharing a concern about possible autism with parents is a painful aspect of primary care practice. We want to get it right, not frighten parents unnecessarily, nor miss children and delay intervention.

Autism screening is recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics at 18- and 24-month pediatric well-child visits. There are several reasons for screening repeatedly: Autism symptoms emerge gradually in the toddler period; about 32% of children later found to have autism were developing in a typical pattern and appeared normal at 18 months only to regress by age 24 months; children may miss the 18 month screen; and all screens have false negatives as well as false positives. But even screening at these two ages is not enough.

One criticism of current screening tests pointed out by the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force has been a problem with the sample used to develop or validate the tool. Many test development studies included only children at risk by being in early intervention, siblings of children with diagnosed autism, or children only failing the screening tests rather than a community sample that the screen in actually used for.

Another obstacle to prediction of autism diagnoses made years later is that some children may not have had any clinical manifestations at the younger age even as judged by the best gold standard testing and, thus, negative screens were ambiguous. Additionally, data from prospective studies of high-risk infant siblings reveal that only 18% of children diagnosed with autism at 36 months were given that diagnosis at 18 months of age despite use of comprehensive diagnostic assessments.

Prevalence is also reported as 30% higher at age 8-12 years as at 3-7 years on gold-standard tests. Children identified later with autism tend to have milder symptoms and higher cognitive functioning. Therefore, we need some humility in thinking we can identify children as early as 18 months; rather, we need to use the best available methods at all ages and remain vigilant to symptoms as they evolve as well as to new screening and testing measures.

The most commonly used parent report screen is the 20-item Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers–Revised (M-CHAT-R), a modification of the original CHAT screen. To have reasonable positive predictive value, the M-CHAT-R authors recommend a clinician or trained staff member conduct a structured follow-up interview with the parent when the M-CHAT-R has a score of 3-7. Scores of 8 or more reflect enough symptoms to more strongly predict an autism diagnosis and thus the interview may be skipped in those cases. The recommended two-step process is called M-CHAT-R/F. At 18 months without the R/F, a positive M-CHAT-R only is associated with an autism diagnosis 27% of the time (PPV, 0.27); which is unacceptable for primary care use.

Unfortunately, the M-CHAT-R/F appears to be less accurate for 18-month-olds than 24-month-olds, in part because its yes/no response options are harder for a caregiver to answer, especially for behaviors just developing, or because of lack of experience with toddlers.

An alternative modification of the original CHAT called the Quantitative CHAT or Q-CHAT-10 has a range of response options for the caregiver; for example, always/usually/sometimes/rarely/never or many times a day/a few times a day/a few times a week/less than once a week/never. The authors of the Q-CHAT-10, however, recommend a summary pass/fail result for ease of use rather than using the range of response option values in the score. We recently published a study testing accuracy using add-up scoring that utilized the entire range of response option values, called Q-CHAT-10-O (O for ordinal), for children 16-20 months old as well as cartoon depictions of the behaviors. Our study also included diagnostic testing of screen-negative as well as screen-positive children to accurately calculate sensitivity and specificity for this method. In our study, Q-CHAT-10-O with a cutoff score greater than 11 showed higher sensitivity (0.63) than either M-CHAT-R/F (0.34) or Q-CHAT-10 (0.31) for this age range although the PPV (0.35) and negative predictive value (0.92) were comparable with M-CHAT R/F. Although Q-CHAT-10-O sensitivity (0.63) is less than M-CHAT-R (without follow-up; 0.73) and specificity (0.79) is less than the two-stage R/F procedure (0.90), on balance, it is more accurate and more practical for a primary care population. After 20 months of age, the M-CHAT-R/F has adequate accuracy to rescreen, if indicated, and for the subsequent 24 month screening. Language items are often of highest value in predicting outcomes in several tools including in the screen we are now validating for 18 month olds.

The Q-CHAT-10-O with ordinal scoring and pictures can also be recommended because it shows advantages over M-CHAT-R/F with half the number of items (10 vs. 20), no requirement for a follow-up interview, and improved sensitivity. Unlike M-CHAT-R, it also contributes to equity in screening because results did not differ depending on race or socioeconomic background.

Is there an even better way to detect autism in primary care? In 2022 an article was published regarding an exciting method of early autism detection called the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised (SACS-R), an eight-item observation checklist completed at public health nurse check-ups in Australia. The observers had 4 years of nursing degree education and a 3.5-hour training session.

The SACS-R and the preschool version (for older children) had significant associations with diagnostic testing at 12, 18, 24, and 42 months. The SACS-R had excellent PPV (82.6%), NPV (98.7%), and specificity (99.6%) and moderate sensitivity (61.5%) when used between 12 and 24 months of age. Pointing, eye contact, waving “bye, bye,” social communication by showing, and pretend play were the key indicators for observations at 18 months, with absence of three or more indicating risk for autism. Different key indicators were used at the other ages, reflecting the evolution of autism symptoms. This hybrid (observation and scoring) surveillance method by professionals shows hopeful data for the critical ability to identify children at risk for autism in primary care very early but requires more than parent report, that is, new levels of autism-specific clinician training and direct observations at multiple visits over time.

The takeaway is to remember that we should all watch closely for early signs of autism, informed by research on the key findings that a professional might observe, as well as by using the best screens available. We should remember that both false positives and false negatives are inherent in screening, especially at the youngest ages. We need to combine our concern with the parent’s concern as well as screen results and be sure to follow-up closely as symptoms can change in even a few months. Many factors may prevent a family from returning to see us or following our advice to go for testing or intervention, so tracking the child and their service use is an important part of the good care we strive to provide children with autism.

Other screening tools

You may have heard of other parent-report screens for autism. It is important to compare their accuracy specifically for 18-month-olds in a community setting.

• The Infant Toddler Checklist (https://psychology-tools.com/test/infant-toddler-checklist) has moderate overall psychometrics with sensitivity ranging from 0.55 to 0.77; specificity from 0.42 to 0.85; PPV from 0.20 to 0.55; and NPV from 0.83 to 0.94. However, the data were based on a sample including both community-dwelling toddlers and those with a family history of autism.
• The Brief Infant-Toddler Social and Emotional Assessment (https://eprovide.mapi-trust.org/instruments/brief-infant-toddler-social-emotional-assessment/) – the screen’s four autism-specific scales had high specificity (84%-90%) but low sensitivity (40%-52%).
• Canvas Dx (https://canvasdx.com/) from the Cognoa company is not a parent-report measure but rather a three-part evaluation including an app-based parent questionnaire, parent uploads of home videos analyzed by a specialist, and a 13- to 15-item primary care physician observational checklist. There were 56 diagnosed of the 426 children in the 18- to 24-month-old range from a sample of children presenting with parent or clinician concerns rather than from a community sample.

Dr. Howard is assistant professor of pediatrics at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and creator of CHADIS (www.CHADIS.com). She had no other relevant disclosures. Dr. Howard’s contribution to this publication was as a paid expert to MDedge News. Email her at [email protected].

References

Sturner R et al. Autism screening at 18 months of age: A comparison of the Q-CHAT-10 and M-CHAT screeners. Molecular Autism. Jan 3;13(1):2.

Barbaro J et al. Diagnostic accuracy of the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised with preschool tool for early autism detection in very young children. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(3):e2146415.

We are all seeing more children on the autism spectrum than we ever expected. With a Centers for Disease Control–estimated prevalence of 1 in 44, the average pediatrician will be caring for 45 children with autism. It may feel like even more as parents bring in their children with related concerns or fears. Early entry into services has been shown to improve functioning, making early identification important. However, screening at the youngest ages has important limitations.

Sharing a concern about possible autism with parents is a painful aspect of primary care practice. We want to get it right, not frighten parents unnecessarily, nor miss children and delay intervention.

Autism screening is recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics at 18- and 24-month pediatric well-child visits. There are several reasons for screening repeatedly: Autism symptoms emerge gradually in the toddler period; about 32% of children later found to have autism were developing in a typical pattern and appeared normal at 18 months only to regress by age 24 months; children may miss the 18 month screen; and all screens have false negatives as well as false positives. But even screening at these two ages is not enough.

One criticism of current screening tests pointed out by the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force has been a problem with the sample used to develop or validate the tool. Many test development studies included only children at risk by being in early intervention, siblings of children with diagnosed autism, or children only failing the screening tests rather than a community sample that the screen in actually used for.

Another obstacle to prediction of autism diagnoses made years later is that some children may not have had any clinical manifestations at the younger age even as judged by the best gold standard testing and, thus, negative screens were ambiguous. Additionally, data from prospective studies of high-risk infant siblings reveal that only 18% of children diagnosed with autism at 36 months were given that diagnosis at 18 months of age despite use of comprehensive diagnostic assessments.

Prevalence is also reported as 30% higher at age 8-12 years as at 3-7 years on gold-standard tests. Children identified later with autism tend to have milder symptoms and higher cognitive functioning. Therefore, we need some humility in thinking we can identify children as early as 18 months; rather, we need to use the best available methods at all ages and remain vigilant to symptoms as they evolve as well as to new screening and testing measures.

The most commonly used parent report screen is the 20-item Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers–Revised (M-CHAT-R), a modification of the original CHAT screen. To have reasonable positive predictive value, the M-CHAT-R authors recommend a clinician or trained staff member conduct a structured follow-up interview with the parent when the M-CHAT-R has a score of 3-7. Scores of 8 or more reflect enough symptoms to more strongly predict an autism diagnosis and thus the interview may be skipped in those cases. The recommended two-step process is called M-CHAT-R/F. At 18 months without the R/F, a positive M-CHAT-R only is associated with an autism diagnosis 27% of the time (PPV, 0.27); which is unacceptable for primary care use.

Unfortunately, the M-CHAT-R/F appears to be less accurate for 18-month-olds than 24-month-olds, in part because its yes/no response options are harder for a caregiver to answer, especially for behaviors just developing, or because of lack of experience with toddlers.

An alternative modification of the original CHAT called the Quantitative CHAT or Q-CHAT-10 has a range of response options for the caregiver; for example, always/usually/sometimes/rarely/never or many times a day/a few times a day/a few times a week/less than once a week/never. The authors of the Q-CHAT-10, however, recommend a summary pass/fail result for ease of use rather than using the range of response option values in the score. We recently published a study testing accuracy using add-up scoring that utilized the entire range of response option values, called Q-CHAT-10-O (O for ordinal), for children 16-20 months old as well as cartoon depictions of the behaviors. Our study also included diagnostic testing of screen-negative as well as screen-positive children to accurately calculate sensitivity and specificity for this method. In our study, Q-CHAT-10-O with a cutoff score greater than 11 showed higher sensitivity (0.63) than either M-CHAT-R/F (0.34) or Q-CHAT-10 (0.31) for this age range although the PPV (0.35) and negative predictive value (0.92) were comparable with M-CHAT R/F. Although Q-CHAT-10-O sensitivity (0.63) is less than M-CHAT-R (without follow-up; 0.73) and specificity (0.79) is less than the two-stage R/F procedure (0.90), on balance, it is more accurate and more practical for a primary care population. After 20 months of age, the M-CHAT-R/F has adequate accuracy to rescreen, if indicated, and for the subsequent 24 month screening. Language items are often of highest value in predicting outcomes in several tools including in the screen we are now validating for 18 month olds.

The Q-CHAT-10-O with ordinal scoring and pictures can also be recommended because it shows advantages over M-CHAT-R/F with half the number of items (10 vs. 20), no requirement for a follow-up interview, and improved sensitivity. Unlike M-CHAT-R, it also contributes to equity in screening because results did not differ depending on race or socioeconomic background.

Is there an even better way to detect autism in primary care? In 2022 an article was published regarding an exciting method of early autism detection called the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised (SACS-R), an eight-item observation checklist completed at public health nurse check-ups in Australia. The observers had 4 years of nursing degree education and a 3.5-hour training session.

The SACS-R and the preschool version (for older children) had significant associations with diagnostic testing at 12, 18, 24, and 42 months. The SACS-R had excellent PPV (82.6%), NPV (98.7%), and specificity (99.6%) and moderate sensitivity (61.5%) when used between 12 and 24 months of age. Pointing, eye contact, waving “bye, bye,” social communication by showing, and pretend play were the key indicators for observations at 18 months, with absence of three or more indicating risk for autism. Different key indicators were used at the other ages, reflecting the evolution of autism symptoms. This hybrid (observation and scoring) surveillance method by professionals shows hopeful data for the critical ability to identify children at risk for autism in primary care very early but requires more than parent report, that is, new levels of autism-specific clinician training and direct observations at multiple visits over time.

The takeaway is to remember that we should all watch closely for early signs of autism, informed by research on the key findings that a professional might observe, as well as by using the best screens available. We should remember that both false positives and false negatives are inherent in screening, especially at the youngest ages. We need to combine our concern with the parent’s concern as well as screen results and be sure to follow-up closely as symptoms can change in even a few months. Many factors may prevent a family from returning to see us or following our advice to go for testing or intervention, so tracking the child and their service use is an important part of the good care we strive to provide children with autism.

Other screening tools

You may have heard of other parent-report screens for autism. It is important to compare their accuracy specifically for 18-month-olds in a community setting.

• The Infant Toddler Checklist (https://psychology-tools.com/test/infant-toddler-checklist) has moderate overall psychometrics with sensitivity ranging from 0.55 to 0.77; specificity from 0.42 to 0.85; PPV from 0.20 to 0.55; and NPV from 0.83 to 0.94. However, the data were based on a sample including both community-dwelling toddlers and those with a family history of autism.
• The Brief Infant-Toddler Social and Emotional Assessment (https://eprovide.mapi-trust.org/instruments/brief-infant-toddler-social-emotional-assessment/) – the screen’s four autism-specific scales had high specificity (84%-90%) but low sensitivity (40%-52%).
• Canvas Dx (https://canvasdx.com/) from the Cognoa company is not a parent-report measure but rather a three-part evaluation including an app-based parent questionnaire, parent uploads of home videos analyzed by a specialist, and a 13- to 15-item primary care physician observational checklist. There were 56 diagnosed of the 426 children in the 18- to 24-month-old range from a sample of children presenting with parent or clinician concerns rather than from a community sample.

Dr. Howard is assistant professor of pediatrics at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, and creator of CHADIS (www.CHADIS.com). She had no other relevant disclosures. Dr. Howard’s contribution to this publication was as a paid expert to MDedge News. Email her at [email protected].

References

Sturner R et al. Autism screening at 18 months of age: A comparison of the Q-CHAT-10 and M-CHAT screeners. Molecular Autism. Jan 3;13(1):2.

Barbaro J et al. Diagnostic accuracy of the Social Attention and Communication Surveillance–Revised with preschool tool for early autism detection in very young children. JAMA Netw Open. 2022;5(3):e2146415.

When I was growing up, I can remember experiencing “duck and cover” drills at school. If a flash appeared in our peripheral vision, we were told we should not look at it but crawl under our desks. My classmates and I were being taught how to protect ourselves in case of a nuclear attack.

Clearly, had there been such an attack, ducking under our desks would not have saved us. Thankfully, such a conflict never occurred – and hopefully never will. Still, the warning did penetrate our psyches. In those days, families and children in schools were worried, and some were scared.

The situation is quite different today. Our children and grandchildren are being taught to protect themselves not from actions overseas – that never happened – but from what someone living in their community might do that has been occurring in real time. According to my daughter-in-law, her young children are taught during “lockdowns” to hide in their classrooms’ closets. During these drills, some children are directed to line up against a wall that would be out of sight of a shooter, and to stay as still as possible.

Since 2017, the number of intentional shootings in U.S. kindergarten through grade 12 schools increased precipitously (Prev Med. 2022 Dec. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2022.107280). Imagine the psychological impact that the vigilance required to deal with such impending threats must be having on our children, as they learn to fear injury and possible death every day they go to school. I’ve talked with numerous parents about this, including my own adult children, and this is clearly a new dimension of life that is on everyone’s minds. Schools, once bastions of safety, are no longer that safe.

For many years, I’ve written about the need to destigmatize mental illness so that it is treated on a par with physical illness. As we look at the challenges faced by young people, reframing mental illness is more important now than ever. This means finding ways to increase the funding of studies that help us understand young people with mental health issues. It also means encouraging patients to pursue treatment from psychiatrists, psychologists, or mental health counselors who specialize in short-term therapy.

The emphasis here on short-term therapy is not to discourage longer-term care when needed, but clearly short-term care strategies, such as cognitive-behavioral therapies, not only work for problem resolution, they also help in the destigmatization of mental health care – as the circumscribed treatment with a clear beginning, middle, and end is consistent with CBT and consistent with much of medical care for physical disorders.

Furthermore, as we aim to destigmatize mental health care, it’s important to equate it with physical care. For example, taking a day or two from school or work for a sprained ankle, seeing a dentist, or an eye exam, plus a myriad of physical issues is quite acceptable. Why is it not also acceptable for a mental health issue and evaluation, such as for anxiety or PTSD, plus being able to talk about it without stigma? Seeing the “shrink” needs to be removed as a negative but viewed as a very positive move toward care for oneself.

In addition, children and adolescents are battling countless other health challenges that could have implications for mental health professionals, for example:

• During the height of the coronavirus pandemic, pediatric endocrinologists reportedly saw a surge of referrals for girls experiencing early puberty. Puberty should never be medicalized, but early maturation has been linked to numerous psychiatric disorders such as depression, anxiety, and eating disorders (J Pediatr Adolec Gynecol. 2022 Oct. doi: 10.1016/j.jpag.2022.05.005).
• A global epidemiologic study of children estimates that nearly 8 million youth lost a parent or caregiver because of a pandemic-related cause between Jan. 1, 2020, and May 1, 2022. An additional 2.5 million children were affected by the loss of secondary caregivers such as grandparents (JAMA Pediatr. 2022 Sept. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.3157).
• The inpatient and outpatient volume of adolescents and young adults receiving care for eating disorders skyrocketed before and after the pandemic, according to the results of case study series (JAMA Pediatrics. 2022 Nov 7. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.4346).
• Children and adolescents who developed COVID-19 suffered tremendously during the height of the pandemic. A nationwide analysis shows that COVID-19 nearly tripled children’s risks of developing new mental health illnesses, such as attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, anxiety, trauma, or stress disorder (Psychiatric Services. 2022 Jun 2. doi: 10.1176/appi.ps.202100646).

In addition to those challenges, young children are facing an increase in respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) infection. We were told the “flu” would be quite bad this year and to beware of monkeypox. However, very little mention is made of the equally distressing “epidemic” of mental health issues, PTSD, anxiety, and depression as we are still in the midst of the COVID pandemic in the United States with almost 400 deaths a day – a very unacceptable number.

Interestingly, we seem to have abandoned the use of masks as protection against COVID and other respiratory diseases, despite their effectiveness. A study in Boston that looked at children in two school districts that did not lift mask mandates demonstrated that mask wearing does indeed lead to significant reductions in the number of pediatric COVID cases. In addition to societal violence and school shootings – which certainly exacerbate anxiety – the fear of dying or the death of a loved one, tied to COVID, may lead to epidemic proportions of PTSD in children. As an article in WebMD noted, “pediatricians are imploring the federal government to declare a national emergency as cases of pediatric respiratory illnesses continue to soar.”

In light of the acknowledged mental health crisis in children, which appears epidemic, I would hope the psychiatric and psychological associations would publicly sound an alarm so that resources could be brought to bear to address this critical issue. I believe doing so would also aid in destigmatizing mental disorders, and increase education and treatment.

Layered on top of those issues are natural disasters, such as the fallout from Tropical Storm Nicole when it recently caused devastation across western Florida. The mental health trauma caused by recent tropical storms seems all but forgotten – except for those who are still suffering. All of this adds up to a society-wide mental health crisis, which seems far more expansive than monkeypox, for example. Yet monkeypox, which did lead to thousands of cases and approximately 29 deaths in the United States, was declared a national public health emergency.

Additionally, RSV killed 100-500 U.S. children under age 5 each year before the pandemic, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and currently it appears even worse. Yet despite the seriousness of RSV, it nowhere matches the emotional toll COVID has taken on children globally.

Let’s make it standard practice for children – and of course, adults – to be taught that anxiety is a normal response at times. We should teach that, in some cases, feeling “down” or in despair and even experiencing symptoms of PTSD based on what’s going on personally and within our environment (i.e., COVID, school shootings, etc.) are triggers and responses that can be addressed and often quickly treated by talking with a mental health professional.

Dr. London is a practicing psychiatrist and has been a newspaper columnist for 35 years, specializing in and writing about short-term therapy, including cognitive-behavioral therapy and guided imagery. He is author of “Find Freedom Fast” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). He has no conflicts of interest.

When I was growing up, I can remember experiencing “duck and cover” drills at school. If a flash appeared in our peripheral vision, we were told we should not look at it but crawl under our desks. My classmates and I were being taught how to protect ourselves in case of a nuclear attack.

Clearly, had there been such an attack, ducking under our desks would not have saved us. Thankfully, such a conflict never occurred – and hopefully never will. Still, the warning did penetrate our psyches. In those days, families and children in schools were worried, and some were scared.

The situation is quite different today. Our children and grandchildren are being taught to protect themselves not from actions overseas – that never happened – but from what someone living in their community might do that has been occurring in real time. According to my daughter-in-law, her young children are taught during “lockdowns” to hide in their classrooms’ closets. During these drills, some children are directed to line up against a wall that would be out of sight of a shooter, and to stay as still as possible.

Since 2017, the number of intentional shootings in U.S. kindergarten through grade 12 schools increased precipitously (Prev Med. 2022 Dec. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2022.107280). Imagine the psychological impact that the vigilance required to deal with such impending threats must be having on our children, as they learn to fear injury and possible death every day they go to school. I’ve talked with numerous parents about this, including my own adult children, and this is clearly a new dimension of life that is on everyone’s minds. Schools, once bastions of safety, are no longer that safe.

For many years, I’ve written about the need to destigmatize mental illness so that it is treated on a par with physical illness. As we look at the challenges faced by young people, reframing mental illness is more important now than ever. This means finding ways to increase the funding of studies that help us understand young people with mental health issues. It also means encouraging patients to pursue treatment from psychiatrists, psychologists, or mental health counselors who specialize in short-term therapy.

The emphasis here on short-term therapy is not to discourage longer-term care when needed, but clearly short-term care strategies, such as cognitive-behavioral therapies, not only work for problem resolution, they also help in the destigmatization of mental health care – as the circumscribed treatment with a clear beginning, middle, and end is consistent with CBT and consistent with much of medical care for physical disorders.

Furthermore, as we aim to destigmatize mental health care, it’s important to equate it with physical care. For example, taking a day or two from school or work for a sprained ankle, seeing a dentist, or an eye exam, plus a myriad of physical issues is quite acceptable. Why is it not also acceptable for a mental health issue and evaluation, such as for anxiety or PTSD, plus being able to talk about it without stigma? Seeing the “shrink” needs to be removed as a negative but viewed as a very positive move toward care for oneself.

In addition, children and adolescents are battling countless other health challenges that could have implications for mental health professionals, for example:

• During the height of the coronavirus pandemic, pediatric endocrinologists reportedly saw a surge of referrals for girls experiencing early puberty. Puberty should never be medicalized, but early maturation has been linked to numerous psychiatric disorders such as depression, anxiety, and eating disorders (J Pediatr Adolec Gynecol. 2022 Oct. doi: 10.1016/j.jpag.2022.05.005).
• A global epidemiologic study of children estimates that nearly 8 million youth lost a parent or caregiver because of a pandemic-related cause between Jan. 1, 2020, and May 1, 2022. An additional 2.5 million children were affected by the loss of secondary caregivers such as grandparents (JAMA Pediatr. 2022 Sept. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.3157).
• The inpatient and outpatient volume of adolescents and young adults receiving care for eating disorders skyrocketed before and after the pandemic, according to the results of case study series (JAMA Pediatrics. 2022 Nov 7. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.4346).
• Children and adolescents who developed COVID-19 suffered tremendously during the height of the pandemic. A nationwide analysis shows that COVID-19 nearly tripled children’s risks of developing new mental health illnesses, such as attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, anxiety, trauma, or stress disorder (Psychiatric Services. 2022 Jun 2. doi: 10.1176/appi.ps.202100646).

In addition to those challenges, young children are facing an increase in respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) infection. We were told the “flu” would be quite bad this year and to beware of monkeypox. However, very little mention is made of the equally distressing “epidemic” of mental health issues, PTSD, anxiety, and depression as we are still in the midst of the COVID pandemic in the United States with almost 400 deaths a day – a very unacceptable number.

Interestingly, we seem to have abandoned the use of masks as protection against COVID and other respiratory diseases, despite their effectiveness. A study in Boston that looked at children in two school districts that did not lift mask mandates demonstrated that mask wearing does indeed lead to significant reductions in the number of pediatric COVID cases. In addition to societal violence and school shootings – which certainly exacerbate anxiety – the fear of dying or the death of a loved one, tied to COVID, may lead to epidemic proportions of PTSD in children. As an article in WebMD noted, “pediatricians are imploring the federal government to declare a national emergency as cases of pediatric respiratory illnesses continue to soar.”

In light of the acknowledged mental health crisis in children, which appears epidemic, I would hope the psychiatric and psychological associations would publicly sound an alarm so that resources could be brought to bear to address this critical issue. I believe doing so would also aid in destigmatizing mental disorders, and increase education and treatment.

Layered on top of those issues are natural disasters, such as the fallout from Tropical Storm Nicole when it recently caused devastation across western Florida. The mental health trauma caused by recent tropical storms seems all but forgotten – except for those who are still suffering. All of this adds up to a society-wide mental health crisis, which seems far more expansive than monkeypox, for example. Yet monkeypox, which did lead to thousands of cases and approximately 29 deaths in the United States, was declared a national public health emergency.

Additionally, RSV killed 100-500 U.S. children under age 5 each year before the pandemic, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and currently it appears even worse. Yet despite the seriousness of RSV, it nowhere matches the emotional toll COVID has taken on children globally.

Let’s make it standard practice for children – and of course, adults – to be taught that anxiety is a normal response at times. We should teach that, in some cases, feeling “down” or in despair and even experiencing symptoms of PTSD based on what’s going on personally and within our environment (i.e., COVID, school shootings, etc.) are triggers and responses that can be addressed and often quickly treated by talking with a mental health professional.

Dr. London is a practicing psychiatrist and has been a newspaper columnist for 35 years, specializing in and writing about short-term therapy, including cognitive-behavioral therapy and guided imagery. He is author of “Find Freedom Fast” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). He has no conflicts of interest.

When I was growing up, I can remember experiencing “duck and cover” drills at school. If a flash appeared in our peripheral vision, we were told we should not look at it but crawl under our desks. My classmates and I were being taught how to protect ourselves in case of a nuclear attack.

Clearly, had there been such an attack, ducking under our desks would not have saved us. Thankfully, such a conflict never occurred – and hopefully never will. Still, the warning did penetrate our psyches. In those days, families and children in schools were worried, and some were scared.

The situation is quite different today. Our children and grandchildren are being taught to protect themselves not from actions overseas – that never happened – but from what someone living in their community might do that has been occurring in real time. According to my daughter-in-law, her young children are taught during “lockdowns” to hide in their classrooms’ closets. During these drills, some children are directed to line up against a wall that would be out of sight of a shooter, and to stay as still as possible.

Since 2017, the number of intentional shootings in U.S. kindergarten through grade 12 schools increased precipitously (Prev Med. 2022 Dec. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2022.107280). Imagine the psychological impact that the vigilance required to deal with such impending threats must be having on our children, as they learn to fear injury and possible death every day they go to school. I’ve talked with numerous parents about this, including my own adult children, and this is clearly a new dimension of life that is on everyone’s minds. Schools, once bastions of safety, are no longer that safe.

For many years, I’ve written about the need to destigmatize mental illness so that it is treated on a par with physical illness. As we look at the challenges faced by young people, reframing mental illness is more important now than ever. This means finding ways to increase the funding of studies that help us understand young people with mental health issues. It also means encouraging patients to pursue treatment from psychiatrists, psychologists, or mental health counselors who specialize in short-term therapy.

The emphasis here on short-term therapy is not to discourage longer-term care when needed, but clearly short-term care strategies, such as cognitive-behavioral therapies, not only work for problem resolution, they also help in the destigmatization of mental health care – as the circumscribed treatment with a clear beginning, middle, and end is consistent with CBT and consistent with much of medical care for physical disorders.

Furthermore, as we aim to destigmatize mental health care, it’s important to equate it with physical care. For example, taking a day or two from school or work for a sprained ankle, seeing a dentist, or an eye exam, plus a myriad of physical issues is quite acceptable. Why is it not also acceptable for a mental health issue and evaluation, such as for anxiety or PTSD, plus being able to talk about it without stigma? Seeing the “shrink” needs to be removed as a negative but viewed as a very positive move toward care for oneself.

In addition, children and adolescents are battling countless other health challenges that could have implications for mental health professionals, for example:

• During the height of the coronavirus pandemic, pediatric endocrinologists reportedly saw a surge of referrals for girls experiencing early puberty. Puberty should never be medicalized, but early maturation has been linked to numerous psychiatric disorders such as depression, anxiety, and eating disorders (J Pediatr Adolec Gynecol. 2022 Oct. doi: 10.1016/j.jpag.2022.05.005).
• A global epidemiologic study of children estimates that nearly 8 million youth lost a parent or caregiver because of a pandemic-related cause between Jan. 1, 2020, and May 1, 2022. An additional 2.5 million children were affected by the loss of secondary caregivers such as grandparents (JAMA Pediatr. 2022 Sept. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.3157).
• The inpatient and outpatient volume of adolescents and young adults receiving care for eating disorders skyrocketed before and after the pandemic, according to the results of case study series (JAMA Pediatrics. 2022 Nov 7. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2022.4346).
• Children and adolescents who developed COVID-19 suffered tremendously during the height of the pandemic. A nationwide analysis shows that COVID-19 nearly tripled children’s risks of developing new mental health illnesses, such as attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, anxiety, trauma, or stress disorder (Psychiatric Services. 2022 Jun 2. doi: 10.1176/appi.ps.202100646).

In addition to those challenges, young children are facing an increase in respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) infection. We were told the “flu” would be quite bad this year and to beware of monkeypox. However, very little mention is made of the equally distressing “epidemic” of mental health issues, PTSD, anxiety, and depression as we are still in the midst of the COVID pandemic in the United States with almost 400 deaths a day – a very unacceptable number.

Interestingly, we seem to have abandoned the use of masks as protection against COVID and other respiratory diseases, despite their effectiveness. A study in Boston that looked at children in two school districts that did not lift mask mandates demonstrated that mask wearing does indeed lead to significant reductions in the number of pediatric COVID cases. In addition to societal violence and school shootings – which certainly exacerbate anxiety – the fear of dying or the death of a loved one, tied to COVID, may lead to epidemic proportions of PTSD in children. As an article in WebMD noted, “pediatricians are imploring the federal government to declare a national emergency as cases of pediatric respiratory illnesses continue to soar.”

In light of the acknowledged mental health crisis in children, which appears epidemic, I would hope the psychiatric and psychological associations would publicly sound an alarm so that resources could be brought to bear to address this critical issue. I believe doing so would also aid in destigmatizing mental disorders, and increase education and treatment.

Layered on top of those issues are natural disasters, such as the fallout from Tropical Storm Nicole when it recently caused devastation across western Florida. The mental health trauma caused by recent tropical storms seems all but forgotten – except for those who are still suffering. All of this adds up to a society-wide mental health crisis, which seems far more expansive than monkeypox, for example. Yet monkeypox, which did lead to thousands of cases and approximately 29 deaths in the United States, was declared a national public health emergency.

Additionally, RSV killed 100-500 U.S. children under age 5 each year before the pandemic, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and currently it appears even worse. Yet despite the seriousness of RSV, it nowhere matches the emotional toll COVID has taken on children globally.

Let’s make it standard practice for children – and of course, adults – to be taught that anxiety is a normal response at times. We should teach that, in some cases, feeling “down” or in despair and even experiencing symptoms of PTSD based on what’s going on personally and within our environment (i.e., COVID, school shootings, etc.) are triggers and responses that can be addressed and often quickly treated by talking with a mental health professional.

Dr. London is a practicing psychiatrist and has been a newspaper columnist for 35 years, specializing in and writing about short-term therapy, including cognitive-behavioral therapy and guided imagery. He is author of “Find Freedom Fast” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). He has no conflicts of interest.

A biopsy of the edge of one of lesions on the torso was performed. Histopathology demonstrated hyperkeratosis of the stratum corneum with focal thickening of the granular cell layer, basal layer degeneration of the epidermis, and a band-like subepidermal lymphocytic infiltrate with Civatte bodies consistent with lichen planus. There was some reduction in the elastic fibers on the papillary dermis.

Courtesy Dr. Zhe Piao

Given the morphology of the lesions and the histopathologic presentation, he was diagnosed with annular atrophic lichen planus (AALP). Lichen planus is a chronic inflammatory condition that can affect the skin, nails, hair, and mucosa. Lichen planus is seen in less than 1% of the population, occurring mainly in middle-aged adults and rarely seen in children. Though, there appears to be no clear racial predilection, a small study in the United States showed a higher incidence of lichen planus in Black children. Lesions with classic characteristics are pruritic, polygonal, violaceous, flat-topped papules and plaques.

There are different subtypes of lichen planus, which include papular or classic form, hypertrophic, vesiculobullous, actinic, annular, atrophic, annular atrophic, linear, follicular, lichen planus pigmentosus, lichen pigmentosa pigmentosus-inversus, lichen planus–lupus erythematosus overlap syndrome, and lichen planus pemphigoides. The annular atrophic form is the least common of all, and there are few reports in the pediatric population. AALP presents as annular papules and plaques with atrophic centers that resolve within a few months leaving postinflammatory hypo- or hyperpigmentation and, in some patients, permanent atrophic scarring.

In histopathology, the lesions show the classic characteristics of lichen planus including vacuolar interface changes and necrotic keratinocytes, hypergranulosis, band-like infiltrate in the dermis, melanin incontinence, and Civatte bodies. In AALP, the center of the lesion shows an atrophic epidermis, and there is also a characteristic partial reduction to complete destruction of elastic fibers in the papillary dermis in the center of the lesion and sometimes in the periphery as well, which helps differentiate AALP from other forms of lichen planus.

The differential diagnosis for AALP includes tinea corporis, which can present with annular lesions, but they are usually scaly and rarely resolve on their own. Pityriasis rosea lesions can also look very similar to AALP lesions, but the difference is the presence of an inner collaret of scale and a lack of atrophy in pityriasis rosea. Pityriasis rosea is a rash that can be triggered by viral infections, medications, and vaccines and self-resolves within 10-12 weeks. Secondary syphilis can also be annular and resemble lesions of AALP. Syphilis patients are usually sexually active and may have lesions present on the palms and soles, which were not seen in our patient.

Granuloma annulare should also be included in the differential diagnosis of AALP. Granuloma annulare lesions present as annular papules or plaques with raised borders and a slightly hyperpigmented center that may appear more depressed compared to the edges of the lesion, though not atrophic as seen in AALP. Pityriasis lichenoides chronica is an inflammatory condition of the skin in which patients present with erythematous to brown papules in different stages which may have a mica-like scale, usually not seen on AALP. Sometimes a skin biopsy will be needed to differentiate between these conditions.

It is very important to make a timely diagnosis of AALP and treat the lesions early as it may leave long-lasting dyspigmentation and scarring. Though AAPL lesions can be resistant to treatment with topical medications, there are reports of improvement with superpotent topical corticosteroids and calcineurin inhibitors. In recalcitrant cases, systemic therapy with isotretinoin, acitretin, methotrexate, systemic corticosteroids, dapsone, and hydroxychloroquine can be considered. Our patient was treated with clobetasol propionate ointment 0.05% with good response.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego.
 

References

Bowers S and Warshaw EM. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2006 Oct;55(4):557-72; quiz 573-6.

Gorouhi F et al. Scientific World Journal. 2014 Jan 30;2014:742826.

Santhosh P and George M. Int J Dermatol. 2022.61:1213-7.

Sears S et al. Pediatr Dermatol. 2021;38:1283-7.

Weston G and Payette M. Int J Womens Dermatol. 2015 Sep 16;1(3):140-9.

A biopsy of the edge of one of lesions on the torso was performed. Histopathology demonstrated hyperkeratosis of the stratum corneum with focal thickening of the granular cell layer, basal layer degeneration of the epidermis, and a band-like subepidermal lymphocytic infiltrate with Civatte bodies consistent with lichen planus. There was some reduction in the elastic fibers on the papillary dermis.

Courtesy Dr. Zhe Piao

Given the morphology of the lesions and the histopathologic presentation, he was diagnosed with annular atrophic lichen planus (AALP). Lichen planus is a chronic inflammatory condition that can affect the skin, nails, hair, and mucosa. Lichen planus is seen in less than 1% of the population, occurring mainly in middle-aged adults and rarely seen in children. Though, there appears to be no clear racial predilection, a small study in the United States showed a higher incidence of lichen planus in Black children. Lesions with classic characteristics are pruritic, polygonal, violaceous, flat-topped papules and plaques.

There are different subtypes of lichen planus, which include papular or classic form, hypertrophic, vesiculobullous, actinic, annular, atrophic, annular atrophic, linear, follicular, lichen planus pigmentosus, lichen pigmentosa pigmentosus-inversus, lichen planus–lupus erythematosus overlap syndrome, and lichen planus pemphigoides. The annular atrophic form is the least common of all, and there are few reports in the pediatric population. AALP presents as annular papules and plaques with atrophic centers that resolve within a few months leaving postinflammatory hypo- or hyperpigmentation and, in some patients, permanent atrophic scarring.

In histopathology, the lesions show the classic characteristics of lichen planus including vacuolar interface changes and necrotic keratinocytes, hypergranulosis, band-like infiltrate in the dermis, melanin incontinence, and Civatte bodies. In AALP, the center of the lesion shows an atrophic epidermis, and there is also a characteristic partial reduction to complete destruction of elastic fibers in the papillary dermis in the center of the lesion and sometimes in the periphery as well, which helps differentiate AALP from other forms of lichen planus.

The differential diagnosis for AALP includes tinea corporis, which can present with annular lesions, but they are usually scaly and rarely resolve on their own. Pityriasis rosea lesions can also look very similar to AALP lesions, but the difference is the presence of an inner collaret of scale and a lack of atrophy in pityriasis rosea. Pityriasis rosea is a rash that can be triggered by viral infections, medications, and vaccines and self-resolves within 10-12 weeks. Secondary syphilis can also be annular and resemble lesions of AALP. Syphilis patients are usually sexually active and may have lesions present on the palms and soles, which were not seen in our patient.

Granuloma annulare should also be included in the differential diagnosis of AALP. Granuloma annulare lesions present as annular papules or plaques with raised borders and a slightly hyperpigmented center that may appear more depressed compared to the edges of the lesion, though not atrophic as seen in AALP. Pityriasis lichenoides chronica is an inflammatory condition of the skin in which patients present with erythematous to brown papules in different stages which may have a mica-like scale, usually not seen on AALP. Sometimes a skin biopsy will be needed to differentiate between these conditions.

It is very important to make a timely diagnosis of AALP and treat the lesions early as it may leave long-lasting dyspigmentation and scarring. Though AAPL lesions can be resistant to treatment with topical medications, there are reports of improvement with superpotent topical corticosteroids and calcineurin inhibitors. In recalcitrant cases, systemic therapy with isotretinoin, acitretin, methotrexate, systemic corticosteroids, dapsone, and hydroxychloroquine can be considered. Our patient was treated with clobetasol propionate ointment 0.05% with good response.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego.
 

References

Bowers S and Warshaw EM. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2006 Oct;55(4):557-72; quiz 573-6.

Gorouhi F et al. Scientific World Journal. 2014 Jan 30;2014:742826.

Santhosh P and George M. Int J Dermatol. 2022.61:1213-7.

Sears S et al. Pediatr Dermatol. 2021;38:1283-7.

Weston G and Payette M. Int J Womens Dermatol. 2015 Sep 16;1(3):140-9.

A biopsy of the edge of one of lesions on the torso was performed. Histopathology demonstrated hyperkeratosis of the stratum corneum with focal thickening of the granular cell layer, basal layer degeneration of the epidermis, and a band-like subepidermal lymphocytic infiltrate with Civatte bodies consistent with lichen planus. There was some reduction in the elastic fibers on the papillary dermis.

Courtesy Dr. Zhe Piao

Given the morphology of the lesions and the histopathologic presentation, he was diagnosed with annular atrophic lichen planus (AALP). Lichen planus is a chronic inflammatory condition that can affect the skin, nails, hair, and mucosa. Lichen planus is seen in less than 1% of the population, occurring mainly in middle-aged adults and rarely seen in children. Though, there appears to be no clear racial predilection, a small study in the United States showed a higher incidence of lichen planus in Black children. Lesions with classic characteristics are pruritic, polygonal, violaceous, flat-topped papules and plaques.

There are different subtypes of lichen planus, which include papular or classic form, hypertrophic, vesiculobullous, actinic, annular, atrophic, annular atrophic, linear, follicular, lichen planus pigmentosus, lichen pigmentosa pigmentosus-inversus, lichen planus–lupus erythematosus overlap syndrome, and lichen planus pemphigoides. The annular atrophic form is the least common of all, and there are few reports in the pediatric population. AALP presents as annular papules and plaques with atrophic centers that resolve within a few months leaving postinflammatory hypo- or hyperpigmentation and, in some patients, permanent atrophic scarring.

In histopathology, the lesions show the classic characteristics of lichen planus including vacuolar interface changes and necrotic keratinocytes, hypergranulosis, band-like infiltrate in the dermis, melanin incontinence, and Civatte bodies. In AALP, the center of the lesion shows an atrophic epidermis, and there is also a characteristic partial reduction to complete destruction of elastic fibers in the papillary dermis in the center of the lesion and sometimes in the periphery as well, which helps differentiate AALP from other forms of lichen planus.

The differential diagnosis for AALP includes tinea corporis, which can present with annular lesions, but they are usually scaly and rarely resolve on their own. Pityriasis rosea lesions can also look very similar to AALP lesions, but the difference is the presence of an inner collaret of scale and a lack of atrophy in pityriasis rosea. Pityriasis rosea is a rash that can be triggered by viral infections, medications, and vaccines and self-resolves within 10-12 weeks. Secondary syphilis can also be annular and resemble lesions of AALP. Syphilis patients are usually sexually active and may have lesions present on the palms and soles, which were not seen in our patient.

Granuloma annulare should also be included in the differential diagnosis of AALP. Granuloma annulare lesions present as annular papules or plaques with raised borders and a slightly hyperpigmented center that may appear more depressed compared to the edges of the lesion, though not atrophic as seen in AALP. Pityriasis lichenoides chronica is an inflammatory condition of the skin in which patients present with erythematous to brown papules in different stages which may have a mica-like scale, usually not seen on AALP. Sometimes a skin biopsy will be needed to differentiate between these conditions.

It is very important to make a timely diagnosis of AALP and treat the lesions early as it may leave long-lasting dyspigmentation and scarring. Though AAPL lesions can be resistant to treatment with topical medications, there are reports of improvement with superpotent topical corticosteroids and calcineurin inhibitors. In recalcitrant cases, systemic therapy with isotretinoin, acitretin, methotrexate, systemic corticosteroids, dapsone, and hydroxychloroquine can be considered. Our patient was treated with clobetasol propionate ointment 0.05% with good response.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego.
 

References

Bowers S and Warshaw EM. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2006 Oct;55(4):557-72; quiz 573-6.

Gorouhi F et al. Scientific World Journal. 2014 Jan 30;2014:742826.

Santhosh P and George M. Int J Dermatol. 2022.61:1213-7.

Sears S et al. Pediatr Dermatol. 2021;38:1283-7.

Weston G and Payette M. Int J Womens Dermatol. 2015 Sep 16;1(3):140-9.

The notion that the reason people with obesity are not losing weight is that they aren’t sufficiently incentivized to do so is toxic.
 

It denies the impact of the thousands of genes and dozens of hormones involved in our individual levels of hunger, cravings, and fullness. It denies the torrential current of our ultraprocessed and calorific food environment. It denies the constant push of food advertising and the role food has taken on as the star of even the smallest of events and celebrations. It denies the role of food as a seminal pleasure in a world that, even for those possessing great degrees of privilege is challenging, let alone for those facing tremendous and varied difficulties. And of course, it upholds the hateful notion that, if people just wanted it badly enough, they’d manage their weight, the corollary of which is that people with obesity are unmotivated and lazy. 

Yet the notion that, if people want it badly enough, they’d make it happen, is incredibly commonplace. It’s so commonplace that NBC aired their prime-time televised reality show The Biggest Loser from 2004 through 2016, featuring people with obesity competing for a $500,000 prize during a 30-week–long orgy of fat-shaming, victim-blaming, hugely restrictive eating, and injury. It’s also so commonplace that studies are still being conducted exploring the impact of paying people to lose weight.

The most recent of these – “Effectiveness of Goal-Directed and Outcome-Based Financial Incentives for Weight Loss in Primary Care Patients With Obesity Living in Socioeconomically Disadvantaged Neighborhoods: A Randomized Clinical Trial” – examined the effects of randomly assigning participants whose annual household incomes were less than $40,000 to either a free year of Weight Watchers and the provisions of basic weight loss advice (exercise, track your food, eat healthfully, et cetera) or to an incentivized program that would see them earning up to $750 over 6 months, with dollars being awarded for such things as attendance in education sessions, keeping a food diary, recording their weight, and obtaining a certain amount of exercise or for weight loss.

Resultswise – though you might not have gathered it from the conclusion of the paper, which states that incentives were more effective at 12 months – the average incentivized participant lost roughly 6 pounds more than those given only resources. It should also be mentioned that over half of the incentivized group did not complete the study.

That these sorts of studies are still being conducted is depressing. Medicine and academia need to actively stop promoting harmful stereotypes when it comes to the genesis of a chronic noncommunicable disease that is not caused by a lack of desire, needing the right incentive, but is rather caused by the interaction of millions of years of evolution during extreme dietary insecurity with a modern-day food environment and culture that constantly offers, provides, and encourages consumption. This is especially true now that there are effective antiobesity medications whose success underwrites the notion that it’s physiology, rather than a lack of wanting it enough, that gets in the way of sustained success.

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

The notion that the reason people with obesity are not losing weight is that they aren’t sufficiently incentivized to do so is toxic.
 

It denies the impact of the thousands of genes and dozens of hormones involved in our individual levels of hunger, cravings, and fullness. It denies the torrential current of our ultraprocessed and calorific food environment. It denies the constant push of food advertising and the role food has taken on as the star of even the smallest of events and celebrations. It denies the role of food as a seminal pleasure in a world that, even for those possessing great degrees of privilege is challenging, let alone for those facing tremendous and varied difficulties. And of course, it upholds the hateful notion that, if people just wanted it badly enough, they’d manage their weight, the corollary of which is that people with obesity are unmotivated and lazy. 

Yet the notion that, if people want it badly enough, they’d make it happen, is incredibly commonplace. It’s so commonplace that NBC aired their prime-time televised reality show The Biggest Loser from 2004 through 2016, featuring people with obesity competing for a $500,000 prize during a 30-week–long orgy of fat-shaming, victim-blaming, hugely restrictive eating, and injury. It’s also so commonplace that studies are still being conducted exploring the impact of paying people to lose weight.

The most recent of these – “Effectiveness of Goal-Directed and Outcome-Based Financial Incentives for Weight Loss in Primary Care Patients With Obesity Living in Socioeconomically Disadvantaged Neighborhoods: A Randomized Clinical Trial” – examined the effects of randomly assigning participants whose annual household incomes were less than $40,000 to either a free year of Weight Watchers and the provisions of basic weight loss advice (exercise, track your food, eat healthfully, et cetera) or to an incentivized program that would see them earning up to $750 over 6 months, with dollars being awarded for such things as attendance in education sessions, keeping a food diary, recording their weight, and obtaining a certain amount of exercise or for weight loss.

Resultswise – though you might not have gathered it from the conclusion of the paper, which states that incentives were more effective at 12 months – the average incentivized participant lost roughly 6 pounds more than those given only resources. It should also be mentioned that over half of the incentivized group did not complete the study.

That these sorts of studies are still being conducted is depressing. Medicine and academia need to actively stop promoting harmful stereotypes when it comes to the genesis of a chronic noncommunicable disease that is not caused by a lack of desire, needing the right incentive, but is rather caused by the interaction of millions of years of evolution during extreme dietary insecurity with a modern-day food environment and culture that constantly offers, provides, and encourages consumption. This is especially true now that there are effective antiobesity medications whose success underwrites the notion that it’s physiology, rather than a lack of wanting it enough, that gets in the way of sustained success.

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

The notion that the reason people with obesity are not losing weight is that they aren’t sufficiently incentivized to do so is toxic.
 

It denies the impact of the thousands of genes and dozens of hormones involved in our individual levels of hunger, cravings, and fullness. It denies the torrential current of our ultraprocessed and calorific food environment. It denies the constant push of food advertising and the role food has taken on as the star of even the smallest of events and celebrations. It denies the role of food as a seminal pleasure in a world that, even for those possessing great degrees of privilege is challenging, let alone for those facing tremendous and varied difficulties. And of course, it upholds the hateful notion that, if people just wanted it badly enough, they’d manage their weight, the corollary of which is that people with obesity are unmotivated and lazy. 

Yet the notion that, if people want it badly enough, they’d make it happen, is incredibly commonplace. It’s so commonplace that NBC aired their prime-time televised reality show The Biggest Loser from 2004 through 2016, featuring people with obesity competing for a $500,000 prize during a 30-week–long orgy of fat-shaming, victim-blaming, hugely restrictive eating, and injury. It’s also so commonplace that studies are still being conducted exploring the impact of paying people to lose weight.

The most recent of these – “Effectiveness of Goal-Directed and Outcome-Based Financial Incentives for Weight Loss in Primary Care Patients With Obesity Living in Socioeconomically Disadvantaged Neighborhoods: A Randomized Clinical Trial” – examined the effects of randomly assigning participants whose annual household incomes were less than $40,000 to either a free year of Weight Watchers and the provisions of basic weight loss advice (exercise, track your food, eat healthfully, et cetera) or to an incentivized program that would see them earning up to $750 over 6 months, with dollars being awarded for such things as attendance in education sessions, keeping a food diary, recording their weight, and obtaining a certain amount of exercise or for weight loss.

Resultswise – though you might not have gathered it from the conclusion of the paper, which states that incentives were more effective at 12 months – the average incentivized participant lost roughly 6 pounds more than those given only resources. It should also be mentioned that over half of the incentivized group did not complete the study.

That these sorts of studies are still being conducted is depressing. Medicine and academia need to actively stop promoting harmful stereotypes when it comes to the genesis of a chronic noncommunicable disease that is not caused by a lack of desire, needing the right incentive, but is rather caused by the interaction of millions of years of evolution during extreme dietary insecurity with a modern-day food environment and culture that constantly offers, provides, and encourages consumption. This is especially true now that there are effective antiobesity medications whose success underwrites the notion that it’s physiology, rather than a lack of wanting it enough, that gets in the way of sustained success.

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

Morality is often talked about in binary terms, black and white, right or wrong. That is how children 4-8 years old first conceive of it. Moral development progresses alongside motor, language, and social skills, but pediatricians typically do not screen for it or chart it. In adolescence, the ability for abstract thought develops and, once susceptibility to peer pressure lessens, nuances begin to shade the binary model. Honor codes become possible by the college years; scandals at colleges and military academies demonstrate that some 18- to 22-year-old young adults still lack that maturity. Lawrence Kohlberg, PhD, in the 1950s proposed a six-stage model of moral development and indicated that some people never achieve the upper stages.

Recently, neuroimaging research has demonstrated that the prefrontal cortex is still developing up to 25 years of age. Those data have ramifications for obtaining truly informed consent for medical procedures. Arbitrarily, driver’s licenses are issued at 16 years of age, the right to vote comes at age 18, and the purchase of alcohol allowed at age 21. Consent for medical care varies by state and by procedure. Treatment for general medical care, pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections, and mental health problems often have different age requirements. In some states, a 14-year-old can give consent for treatment of depression or pregnancy but cannot get a tattoo.

The rules for firearms are also complex and vary by state. Perhaps more important is the determination of medical, psychological, moral, and criminal conditions for which guns should be removed from someone’s access. Some states have created formalized red flag laws to accomplish this. Other states have informal procedures used by police and social workers rather than involving medical personnel. Recent gun-related tragedies at a St. Louis high school near me and at a Colorado Springs bar demonstrate deficiencies in the red flag approach, with multiple fatal consequences.

Some moral issues do not neatly fit the binary approach. There are many concerns that are better described by a paradigm that “all things are permissible but not everything is edifying.” Take as a model of this the consumption of alcohol. The risks of an occasional single drink are very small for most people. For some, one drink leads to binges of alcoholism. Others drink and drive. Over the centuries, various groups in various localities have counseled temperance. Some personally avoid alcohol to avoid leading others astray.

The United States from 1920 to 1933 carried out the national social experiment Prohibition that outlawed intoxicating beverages. Ultimately, the organized crime of black market alcohol production, distribution, and consumption was found to be worse than the disease. Alcohol use was again legalized. That is understandable. Still, I doubt Carrie Nation ever thought that the sponsorship of most major sporting events would rely heavily on beer and liquor companies. Legalization and promotion are two distinct acts.

A federal prohibition of marijuana since the 1950s similarly produced crime from drug dealing. It also induced many otherwise law-abiding citizens to be scofflaws. (I think the 55 mph national speed limit under President Nixon created greater numbers of scofflaws.) In my state recreational marijuana became legal as I write this column. But is that good? Wise? Edifying?

State lotteries were created partly to reduce the negative effects of the numbers games funding organized crime. That rationale is understandable, but why are states promoting the games with commercials and billion dollar payouts?

I find the “permissible but not edifying” paradigm helpful in many areas of medical ethics. The ethical concerns typically then fall into one of four categories: Slippery slope, bright lines, overuse, and conscientiously opting out. All are subspecies of the theme of going too far.

Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act was enacted 25 years ago. Nine other states now allow some form of medically assisted death. Most states prohibit it. As is now the case for abortion, medical care is typically legislated at the state level to reflect local values. Canada goes beyond assisted suicide and in the vast majority of cases employs active euthanasia with a physician pushing lethal drugs intravenously. That action is forbidden in the United States. Currently, euthanasia is involved in 10,000 deaths per year in Canada. A terminal illness is no longer needed; that requirement was ruled unconstitutional. By March 2023, intractable mental health problems will be eligible for the euthanasia cure in Canada. I have long considered myself a navigator of ethical slippery slopes because that is where the suffering people are. Canada has gone too far down this particular slope for my skill set.
 

Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].

Morality is often talked about in binary terms, black and white, right or wrong. That is how children 4-8 years old first conceive of it. Moral development progresses alongside motor, language, and social skills, but pediatricians typically do not screen for it or chart it. In adolescence, the ability for abstract thought develops and, once susceptibility to peer pressure lessens, nuances begin to shade the binary model. Honor codes become possible by the college years; scandals at colleges and military academies demonstrate that some 18- to 22-year-old young adults still lack that maturity. Lawrence Kohlberg, PhD, in the 1950s proposed a six-stage model of moral development and indicated that some people never achieve the upper stages.

Recently, neuroimaging research has demonstrated that the prefrontal cortex is still developing up to 25 years of age. Those data have ramifications for obtaining truly informed consent for medical procedures. Arbitrarily, driver’s licenses are issued at 16 years of age, the right to vote comes at age 18, and the purchase of alcohol allowed at age 21. Consent for medical care varies by state and by procedure. Treatment for general medical care, pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections, and mental health problems often have different age requirements. In some states, a 14-year-old can give consent for treatment of depression or pregnancy but cannot get a tattoo.

The rules for firearms are also complex and vary by state. Perhaps more important is the determination of medical, psychological, moral, and criminal conditions for which guns should be removed from someone’s access. Some states have created formalized red flag laws to accomplish this. Other states have informal procedures used by police and social workers rather than involving medical personnel. Recent gun-related tragedies at a St. Louis high school near me and at a Colorado Springs bar demonstrate deficiencies in the red flag approach, with multiple fatal consequences.

Some moral issues do not neatly fit the binary approach. There are many concerns that are better described by a paradigm that “all things are permissible but not everything is edifying.” Take as a model of this the consumption of alcohol. The risks of an occasional single drink are very small for most people. For some, one drink leads to binges of alcoholism. Others drink and drive. Over the centuries, various groups in various localities have counseled temperance. Some personally avoid alcohol to avoid leading others astray.

The United States from 1920 to 1933 carried out the national social experiment Prohibition that outlawed intoxicating beverages. Ultimately, the organized crime of black market alcohol production, distribution, and consumption was found to be worse than the disease. Alcohol use was again legalized. That is understandable. Still, I doubt Carrie Nation ever thought that the sponsorship of most major sporting events would rely heavily on beer and liquor companies. Legalization and promotion are two distinct acts.

A federal prohibition of marijuana since the 1950s similarly produced crime from drug dealing. It also induced many otherwise law-abiding citizens to be scofflaws. (I think the 55 mph national speed limit under President Nixon created greater numbers of scofflaws.) In my state recreational marijuana became legal as I write this column. But is that good? Wise? Edifying?

State lotteries were created partly to reduce the negative effects of the numbers games funding organized crime. That rationale is understandable, but why are states promoting the games with commercials and billion dollar payouts?

I find the “permissible but not edifying” paradigm helpful in many areas of medical ethics. The ethical concerns typically then fall into one of four categories: Slippery slope, bright lines, overuse, and conscientiously opting out. All are subspecies of the theme of going too far.

Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act was enacted 25 years ago. Nine other states now allow some form of medically assisted death. Most states prohibit it. As is now the case for abortion, medical care is typically legislated at the state level to reflect local values. Canada goes beyond assisted suicide and in the vast majority of cases employs active euthanasia with a physician pushing lethal drugs intravenously. That action is forbidden in the United States. Currently, euthanasia is involved in 10,000 deaths per year in Canada. A terminal illness is no longer needed; that requirement was ruled unconstitutional. By March 2023, intractable mental health problems will be eligible for the euthanasia cure in Canada. I have long considered myself a navigator of ethical slippery slopes because that is where the suffering people are. Canada has gone too far down this particular slope for my skill set.
 

Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].

Morality is often talked about in binary terms, black and white, right or wrong. That is how children 4-8 years old first conceive of it. Moral development progresses alongside motor, language, and social skills, but pediatricians typically do not screen for it or chart it. In adolescence, the ability for abstract thought develops and, once susceptibility to peer pressure lessens, nuances begin to shade the binary model. Honor codes become possible by the college years; scandals at colleges and military academies demonstrate that some 18- to 22-year-old young adults still lack that maturity. Lawrence Kohlberg, PhD, in the 1950s proposed a six-stage model of moral development and indicated that some people never achieve the upper stages.

Recently, neuroimaging research has demonstrated that the prefrontal cortex is still developing up to 25 years of age. Those data have ramifications for obtaining truly informed consent for medical procedures. Arbitrarily, driver’s licenses are issued at 16 years of age, the right to vote comes at age 18, and the purchase of alcohol allowed at age 21. Consent for medical care varies by state and by procedure. Treatment for general medical care, pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections, and mental health problems often have different age requirements. In some states, a 14-year-old can give consent for treatment of depression or pregnancy but cannot get a tattoo.

The rules for firearms are also complex and vary by state. Perhaps more important is the determination of medical, psychological, moral, and criminal conditions for which guns should be removed from someone’s access. Some states have created formalized red flag laws to accomplish this. Other states have informal procedures used by police and social workers rather than involving medical personnel. Recent gun-related tragedies at a St. Louis high school near me and at a Colorado Springs bar demonstrate deficiencies in the red flag approach, with multiple fatal consequences.

Some moral issues do not neatly fit the binary approach. There are many concerns that are better described by a paradigm that “all things are permissible but not everything is edifying.” Take as a model of this the consumption of alcohol. The risks of an occasional single drink are very small for most people. For some, one drink leads to binges of alcoholism. Others drink and drive. Over the centuries, various groups in various localities have counseled temperance. Some personally avoid alcohol to avoid leading others astray.

The United States from 1920 to 1933 carried out the national social experiment Prohibition that outlawed intoxicating beverages. Ultimately, the organized crime of black market alcohol production, distribution, and consumption was found to be worse than the disease. Alcohol use was again legalized. That is understandable. Still, I doubt Carrie Nation ever thought that the sponsorship of most major sporting events would rely heavily on beer and liquor companies. Legalization and promotion are two distinct acts.

A federal prohibition of marijuana since the 1950s similarly produced crime from drug dealing. It also induced many otherwise law-abiding citizens to be scofflaws. (I think the 55 mph national speed limit under President Nixon created greater numbers of scofflaws.) In my state recreational marijuana became legal as I write this column. But is that good? Wise? Edifying?

State lotteries were created partly to reduce the negative effects of the numbers games funding organized crime. That rationale is understandable, but why are states promoting the games with commercials and billion dollar payouts?

I find the “permissible but not edifying” paradigm helpful in many areas of medical ethics. The ethical concerns typically then fall into one of four categories: Slippery slope, bright lines, overuse, and conscientiously opting out. All are subspecies of the theme of going too far.

Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act was enacted 25 years ago. Nine other states now allow some form of medically assisted death. Most states prohibit it. As is now the case for abortion, medical care is typically legislated at the state level to reflect local values. Canada goes beyond assisted suicide and in the vast majority of cases employs active euthanasia with a physician pushing lethal drugs intravenously. That action is forbidden in the United States. Currently, euthanasia is involved in 10,000 deaths per year in Canada. A terminal illness is no longer needed; that requirement was ruled unconstitutional. By March 2023, intractable mental health problems will be eligible for the euthanasia cure in Canada. I have long considered myself a navigator of ethical slippery slopes because that is where the suffering people are. Canada has gone too far down this particular slope for my skill set.
 

Dr. Powell is a retired pediatric hospitalist and clinical ethics consultant living in St. Louis. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

Several years ago I visited my primary care provider in her new office. She had just left the practice where we had been coworkers for over a decade. I was “roomed” by Louise (not her real name) whom I had never met before. I assumed she had come with the new waiting room furniture. She took my vital signs, asked a few boilerplate questions, and told me that my PCP would be in shortly.

After our initial ping-pong match of how-are-things-going I mentioned to my old friend/PCP that I thought Louise needed to work on her person-to-person skills. She thanked me and said there were so many challenges in the new practice setting she hadn’t had a chance to work on staff training.

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

When I returned 6 months later Louise was a different person. She appeared and sounded interested in who I was and left me in the room to wait feeling glad I had spoken up. I wasn’t surprised at the change, knowing my former coworker’s past history. I was confident that in time she would coach her new staff and continue to reinforce her message by setting an example by being a caring and concerned physician.

The old Louise certainly wasn’t a rude or unpleasant person but good customer service just didn’t come naturally to her. She thought she was doing a good job, at least as far as she understood what her job was supposed to be. On the whole spectrum of professional misbehavior she would barely warrant a pixel of color. Unfortunately, we are seeing and suffering through a surge of rude behavior and incivility not just in the medical community but across all segments of our society.

It is particularly troubling in health care, which has an organizational nonsystem that was initially paternalistic and male dominated but continues to be hierarchical even as gender stereotypes are becoming less rigid. Rudeness within a team, whether it is a medical office or a factory assembly line, can create a toxic work environment that can affect the quality of the product. In this case the end product is the health and wellness of our patients. While incivility within a team can occasionally be hidden from the patients, eventually it will surface and take its toll on the customer service component of the practice.

One wonders why so many of us are behaving rudely. Is it examples we see in the media, is it our political leaders, or is the pandemic a contributor? Has democracy run its course? Are we victims of our departure from organized religion? Do we need to reorganize our medical training to be less hierarchical? I don’t think there is any single cause nor do I believe we need to restructure our medical training system to remedy the situation. We will always need to transfer information and skills from people who have them to people who need to learn them. If there is a low-hanging fruit in the customer service orchard it is one person at a time deciding to behave in a civil manner toward fellow citizens.

While a colorful crop of political signs arrived in the run-up to the November election, recently, here on the midcoast of Maine, simple white-on-black signs have appeared saying “BE NICE.”

The good news is that being nice can be contagious. Simply think of that golden rule. Treat your patients/customers/coworkers as you would like to be treated yourself.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at [email protected].

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m the director of the division of medical ethics at New York University.

New York City is on the cutting edge with a very controversial program. It has two centers operating as overdose prevention centers, where individuals can come who are using drugs and take heroin or other drugs under the supervision of a health care professional or trained person. One is up in Washington Heights in Manhattan; the other, I believe, is over in Harlem.

These two centers will supervise people taking drugs. They have available all of the anti-overdose medications, such as Narcan. If you overdose, they will help you and try to counsel you to get off drugs, but they don’t insist that you do so. You can go there, even if you’re an addict, and continue to take drugs under supervision. This is called a risk-reduction strategy.

Some people note that there are over 100 centers like this worldwide. They’re in Canada, Switzerland, and many other countries, and they seem to work. “Working” means more people seem to come off drugs slowly – not huge numbers, but some – than if you don’t do something like this, and death rates from overdose go way down.

By the way, having these centers in place has other benefits. They save money because when someone overdoses out in the community, you have to pay all the costs of the ambulances and emergency rooms, and there are risks to the first responders due to fentanyl or other things. There are fewer syringes littering parks and public places where people shoot up. You have everything controlled when they come into a center, so that’s less burden on the community.

It turns out that you have less crime because people just aren’t out there harming or robbing other people to get money to get their next fix. The drugs are provided for them. Crime rates in neighborhoods around the world where these centers operate seem to dip. There are many positives.

There are also some negatives. People say it shouldn’t be the job of the state to keep people addicted. It’s just not the right role. Everything should be aimed at getting people off drugs, maybe including criminal penalties if that’s what it takes to get them to stop using.

My own view is that hasn’t worked. Implementing tough prison sentences in trying to fight the war on drugs just doesn’t seem to work. We had 100,000 deaths last year from drug overdoses. That number has been climbing. We all know that we’ve got a terrible epidemic of deaths due to drug overdose.

It seems to me that these centers that are involved in risk reduction are a better option for now, until we figure out some interventions that can cut the desire or the drive to use drugs, or antidotes that are effective for months or years, to prevent people from getting high no matter what drugs they take.

I’m going to come out and say that I think the New York experiment has worked. I think it has saved upward of 600 lives, they estimate, in the past year that would have been overdoses. I think costwise, it’s effective. [Reductions in] related damages and injuries from syringes being scattered around, and robbery, and so forth, are all to the good. There are even a few people coming off drugs due to counseling, which is a better outcome than we get when they’re just out in the streets.

I think other cities want to try this. I know Philadelphia does. I know New York wants to expand its program. The federal government isn’t sure, but I think the time has come to try an expansion. I think we’ve got something that – although far from perfect and I wish we had other tools – may be the best we’ve got. In the war on drugs, little victories ought to be reinforced.

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m the director of the division of medical ethics at New York University.

New York City is on the cutting edge with a very controversial program. It has two centers operating as overdose prevention centers, where individuals can come who are using drugs and take heroin or other drugs under the supervision of a health care professional or trained person. One is up in Washington Heights in Manhattan; the other, I believe, is over in Harlem.

These two centers will supervise people taking drugs. They have available all of the anti-overdose medications, such as Narcan. If you overdose, they will help you and try to counsel you to get off drugs, but they don’t insist that you do so. You can go there, even if you’re an addict, and continue to take drugs under supervision. This is called a risk-reduction strategy.

Some people note that there are over 100 centers like this worldwide. They’re in Canada, Switzerland, and many other countries, and they seem to work. “Working” means more people seem to come off drugs slowly – not huge numbers, but some – than if you don’t do something like this, and death rates from overdose go way down.

By the way, having these centers in place has other benefits. They save money because when someone overdoses out in the community, you have to pay all the costs of the ambulances and emergency rooms, and there are risks to the first responders due to fentanyl or other things. There are fewer syringes littering parks and public places where people shoot up. You have everything controlled when they come into a center, so that’s less burden on the community.

It turns out that you have less crime because people just aren’t out there harming or robbing other people to get money to get their next fix. The drugs are provided for them. Crime rates in neighborhoods around the world where these centers operate seem to dip. There are many positives.

There are also some negatives. People say it shouldn’t be the job of the state to keep people addicted. It’s just not the right role. Everything should be aimed at getting people off drugs, maybe including criminal penalties if that’s what it takes to get them to stop using.

My own view is that hasn’t worked. Implementing tough prison sentences in trying to fight the war on drugs just doesn’t seem to work. We had 100,000 deaths last year from drug overdoses. That number has been climbing. We all know that we’ve got a terrible epidemic of deaths due to drug overdose.

It seems to me that these centers that are involved in risk reduction are a better option for now, until we figure out some interventions that can cut the desire or the drive to use drugs, or antidotes that are effective for months or years, to prevent people from getting high no matter what drugs they take.

I’m going to come out and say that I think the New York experiment has worked. I think it has saved upward of 600 lives, they estimate, in the past year that would have been overdoses. I think costwise, it’s effective. [Reductions in] related damages and injuries from syringes being scattered around, and robbery, and so forth, are all to the good. There are even a few people coming off drugs due to counseling, which is a better outcome than we get when they’re just out in the streets.

I think other cities want to try this. I know Philadelphia does. I know New York wants to expand its program. The federal government isn’t sure, but I think the time has come to try an expansion. I think we’ve got something that – although far from perfect and I wish we had other tools – may be the best we’ve got. In the war on drugs, little victories ought to be reinforced.

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m the director of the division of medical ethics at New York University.

New York City is on the cutting edge with a very controversial program. It has two centers operating as overdose prevention centers, where individuals can come who are using drugs and take heroin or other drugs under the supervision of a health care professional or trained person. One is up in Washington Heights in Manhattan; the other, I believe, is over in Harlem.

These two centers will supervise people taking drugs. They have available all of the anti-overdose medications, such as Narcan. If you overdose, they will help you and try to counsel you to get off drugs, but they don’t insist that you do so. You can go there, even if you’re an addict, and continue to take drugs under supervision. This is called a risk-reduction strategy.

Some people note that there are over 100 centers like this worldwide. They’re in Canada, Switzerland, and many other countries, and they seem to work. “Working” means more people seem to come off drugs slowly – not huge numbers, but some – than if you don’t do something like this, and death rates from overdose go way down.

By the way, having these centers in place has other benefits. They save money because when someone overdoses out in the community, you have to pay all the costs of the ambulances and emergency rooms, and there are risks to the first responders due to fentanyl or other things. There are fewer syringes littering parks and public places where people shoot up. You have everything controlled when they come into a center, so that’s less burden on the community.

It turns out that you have less crime because people just aren’t out there harming or robbing other people to get money to get their next fix. The drugs are provided for them. Crime rates in neighborhoods around the world where these centers operate seem to dip. There are many positives.

There are also some negatives. People say it shouldn’t be the job of the state to keep people addicted. It’s just not the right role. Everything should be aimed at getting people off drugs, maybe including criminal penalties if that’s what it takes to get them to stop using.

My own view is that hasn’t worked. Implementing tough prison sentences in trying to fight the war on drugs just doesn’t seem to work. We had 100,000 deaths last year from drug overdoses. That number has been climbing. We all know that we’ve got a terrible epidemic of deaths due to drug overdose.

It seems to me that these centers that are involved in risk reduction are a better option for now, until we figure out some interventions that can cut the desire or the drive to use drugs, or antidotes that are effective for months or years, to prevent people from getting high no matter what drugs they take.

I’m going to come out and say that I think the New York experiment has worked. I think it has saved upward of 600 lives, they estimate, in the past year that would have been overdoses. I think costwise, it’s effective. [Reductions in] related damages and injuries from syringes being scattered around, and robbery, and so forth, are all to the good. There are even a few people coming off drugs due to counseling, which is a better outcome than we get when they’re just out in the streets.

I think other cities want to try this. I know Philadelphia does. I know New York wants to expand its program. The federal government isn’t sure, but I think the time has come to try an expansion. I think we’ve got something that – although far from perfect and I wish we had other tools – may be the best we’ve got. In the war on drugs, little victories ought to be reinforced.

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the division of medical ethics at New York University.

I want to talk about a paper that my colleagues in my division just published in Health Affairs. Amanda Zink, Lauren Taylor, and a couple of others wrote a very interesting piece, which I think has significance and importance for all those doing clinical care in American health care today.

As they pointed out, there’s a large amount of literature about what makes patients trust their doctor. There are many studies that show that, although patients sometimes have become more critical of the medical profession, in general they still try to trust their individual physician. Nurses remain in fairly high esteem among those who are getting hospital care.

What isn’t studied, as this paper properly points out, is, what can the doctor and the nurse do to trust the patient? How can that be assessed? Isn’t that just as important as saying that patients have to trust their doctors to do and comply with what they’re told?

What if doctors are afraid of violence? What if doctors are fearful that they can’t trust patients to listen, pay attention, or do what they’re being told? What if they think that patients are coming in with all kinds of disinformation, false information, or things they pick up on the Internet, so that even though you try your best to get across accurate and complete information about what to do about infectious diseases, taking care of a kid with strep throat, or whatever it might be, you’re thinking, Can I trust this patient to do what it is that I want them to do?

One particular problem that’s causing distrust is that more and more patients are showing stress and dependence on drugs and alcohol. That doesn’t make them less trustworthy per se, but it means they can’t regulate their own behavior as well.

That obviously has to be something that the physician or the nurse is thinking about. Is this person going to be able to contain anger? Is this person going to be able to handle bad news? Is this person going to deal with me when I tell them that some of the things they believe to be true about what’s good for their health care are false?

I think we have to really start to push administrators and people in positions of power to teach doctors and nurses how to defuse situations and how to make people more comfortable when they come in and the doctor suspects that they might be under the influence, impaired, or angry because of things they’ve seen on social media, whatever those might be – including concerns about racism, bigotry, and bias, which some patients are bringing into the clinic and the hospital setting.

We need more training. We’ve got to address this as a serious issue. What can we do to defuse situations where the doctor or the nurse rightly thinks that they can’t control or they can’t trust what the patient is thinking or how the patient might behave?

It’s also the case that I think we need more backup and quick access to security so that people feel safe and comfortable in providing care. We have to make sure that if you need someone to restrain a patient or to get somebody out of a situation, that they can get there quickly and respond rapidly, and that they know what to do to deescalate a situation.

It’s sad to say, but security in today’s health care world has to be something that we really test and check – not because we’re worried, as many places are, about a shooter entering the premises, which is its own bit of concern – but I’m just talking about when the doctor or the nurse says that this patient might be acting up, could get violent, or is someone I can’t trust.

My coauthors are basically saying that it’s not a one-way street. Yes, we have to figure out ways to make sure that our patients can trust what we say. Trust is absolutely the lubricant that makes health care flow. If patients don’t trust their doctors, they’re not going to do what they say. They’re not going to get their prescriptions filled. They’re not going to be compliant. They’re not going to try to lose weight or control their diabetes.

It also goes the other way. The doctor or the nurse has to trust the patient. They have to believe that they’re safe. They have to believe that the patient is capable of controlling themselves. They have to believe that the patient is capable of listening and hearing what they’re saying, and that they’re competent to follow up on instructions, including to come back if that’s what’s required.

Everybody has to feel secure in the environment in which they’re working. Security, sadly, has to be a priority if we’re going to have a health care workforce that really feels safe and comfortable dealing with a patient population that is increasingly aggressive and perhaps not as trustworthy.

That’s not news I like to read when my colleagues write it up, but it’s important and we have to take it seriously.
 

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the division of medical ethics at New York University.

I want to talk about a paper that my colleagues in my division just published in Health Affairs. Amanda Zink, Lauren Taylor, and a couple of others wrote a very interesting piece, which I think has significance and importance for all those doing clinical care in American health care today.

As they pointed out, there’s a large amount of literature about what makes patients trust their doctor. There are many studies that show that, although patients sometimes have become more critical of the medical profession, in general they still try to trust their individual physician. Nurses remain in fairly high esteem among those who are getting hospital care.

What isn’t studied, as this paper properly points out, is, what can the doctor and the nurse do to trust the patient? How can that be assessed? Isn’t that just as important as saying that patients have to trust their doctors to do and comply with what they’re told?

What if doctors are afraid of violence? What if doctors are fearful that they can’t trust patients to listen, pay attention, or do what they’re being told? What if they think that patients are coming in with all kinds of disinformation, false information, or things they pick up on the Internet, so that even though you try your best to get across accurate and complete information about what to do about infectious diseases, taking care of a kid with strep throat, or whatever it might be, you’re thinking, Can I trust this patient to do what it is that I want them to do?

One particular problem that’s causing distrust is that more and more patients are showing stress and dependence on drugs and alcohol. That doesn’t make them less trustworthy per se, but it means they can’t regulate their own behavior as well.

That obviously has to be something that the physician or the nurse is thinking about. Is this person going to be able to contain anger? Is this person going to be able to handle bad news? Is this person going to deal with me when I tell them that some of the things they believe to be true about what’s good for their health care are false?

I think we have to really start to push administrators and people in positions of power to teach doctors and nurses how to defuse situations and how to make people more comfortable when they come in and the doctor suspects that they might be under the influence, impaired, or angry because of things they’ve seen on social media, whatever those might be – including concerns about racism, bigotry, and bias, which some patients are bringing into the clinic and the hospital setting.

We need more training. We’ve got to address this as a serious issue. What can we do to defuse situations where the doctor or the nurse rightly thinks that they can’t control or they can’t trust what the patient is thinking or how the patient might behave?

It’s also the case that I think we need more backup and quick access to security so that people feel safe and comfortable in providing care. We have to make sure that if you need someone to restrain a patient or to get somebody out of a situation, that they can get there quickly and respond rapidly, and that they know what to do to deescalate a situation.

It’s sad to say, but security in today’s health care world has to be something that we really test and check – not because we’re worried, as many places are, about a shooter entering the premises, which is its own bit of concern – but I’m just talking about when the doctor or the nurse says that this patient might be acting up, could get violent, or is someone I can’t trust.

My coauthors are basically saying that it’s not a one-way street. Yes, we have to figure out ways to make sure that our patients can trust what we say. Trust is absolutely the lubricant that makes health care flow. If patients don’t trust their doctors, they’re not going to do what they say. They’re not going to get their prescriptions filled. They’re not going to be compliant. They’re not going to try to lose weight or control their diabetes.

It also goes the other way. The doctor or the nurse has to trust the patient. They have to believe that they’re safe. They have to believe that the patient is capable of controlling themselves. They have to believe that the patient is capable of listening and hearing what they’re saying, and that they’re competent to follow up on instructions, including to come back if that’s what’s required.

Everybody has to feel secure in the environment in which they’re working. Security, sadly, has to be a priority if we’re going to have a health care workforce that really feels safe and comfortable dealing with a patient population that is increasingly aggressive and perhaps not as trustworthy.

That’s not news I like to read when my colleagues write it up, but it’s important and we have to take it seriously.
 

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

Hi. I’m Art Caplan. I’m at the division of medical ethics at New York University.

I want to talk about a paper that my colleagues in my division just published in Health Affairs. Amanda Zink, Lauren Taylor, and a couple of others wrote a very interesting piece, which I think has significance and importance for all those doing clinical care in American health care today.

As they pointed out, there’s a large amount of literature about what makes patients trust their doctor. There are many studies that show that, although patients sometimes have become more critical of the medical profession, in general they still try to trust their individual physician. Nurses remain in fairly high esteem among those who are getting hospital care.

What isn’t studied, as this paper properly points out, is, what can the doctor and the nurse do to trust the patient? How can that be assessed? Isn’t that just as important as saying that patients have to trust their doctors to do and comply with what they’re told?

What if doctors are afraid of violence? What if doctors are fearful that they can’t trust patients to listen, pay attention, or do what they’re being told? What if they think that patients are coming in with all kinds of disinformation, false information, or things they pick up on the Internet, so that even though you try your best to get across accurate and complete information about what to do about infectious diseases, taking care of a kid with strep throat, or whatever it might be, you’re thinking, Can I trust this patient to do what it is that I want them to do?

One particular problem that’s causing distrust is that more and more patients are showing stress and dependence on drugs and alcohol. That doesn’t make them less trustworthy per se, but it means they can’t regulate their own behavior as well.

That obviously has to be something that the physician or the nurse is thinking about. Is this person going to be able to contain anger? Is this person going to be able to handle bad news? Is this person going to deal with me when I tell them that some of the things they believe to be true about what’s good for their health care are false?

I think we have to really start to push administrators and people in positions of power to teach doctors and nurses how to defuse situations and how to make people more comfortable when they come in and the doctor suspects that they might be under the influence, impaired, or angry because of things they’ve seen on social media, whatever those might be – including concerns about racism, bigotry, and bias, which some patients are bringing into the clinic and the hospital setting.

We need more training. We’ve got to address this as a serious issue. What can we do to defuse situations where the doctor or the nurse rightly thinks that they can’t control or they can’t trust what the patient is thinking or how the patient might behave?

It’s also the case that I think we need more backup and quick access to security so that people feel safe and comfortable in providing care. We have to make sure that if you need someone to restrain a patient or to get somebody out of a situation, that they can get there quickly and respond rapidly, and that they know what to do to deescalate a situation.

It’s sad to say, but security in today’s health care world has to be something that we really test and check – not because we’re worried, as many places are, about a shooter entering the premises, which is its own bit of concern – but I’m just talking about when the doctor or the nurse says that this patient might be acting up, could get violent, or is someone I can’t trust.

My coauthors are basically saying that it’s not a one-way street. Yes, we have to figure out ways to make sure that our patients can trust what we say. Trust is absolutely the lubricant that makes health care flow. If patients don’t trust their doctors, they’re not going to do what they say. They’re not going to get their prescriptions filled. They’re not going to be compliant. They’re not going to try to lose weight or control their diabetes.

It also goes the other way. The doctor or the nurse has to trust the patient. They have to believe that they’re safe. They have to believe that the patient is capable of controlling themselves. They have to believe that the patient is capable of listening and hearing what they’re saying, and that they’re competent to follow up on instructions, including to come back if that’s what’s required.

Everybody has to feel secure in the environment in which they’re working. Security, sadly, has to be a priority if we’re going to have a health care workforce that really feels safe and comfortable dealing with a patient population that is increasingly aggressive and perhaps not as trustworthy.

That’s not news I like to read when my colleagues write it up, but it’s important and we have to take it seriously.
 

Dr. Caplan disclosed that he has served as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Johnson & Johnson’s Panel for Compassionate Drug Use (unpaid position), and is a contributing author and adviser for Medscape. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

It was 1970. I was in my second year of medical school. I had been up half the night preparing for a history and physical on a patient with aortic stenosis. When I arrived at the bedside, he refused to talk to me or allow me to examine him. He requested a “White doctor” instead. I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday.

Coming from the Deep South, I was very familiar with racial bias, but I did not expect it at that level and in that environment. From that point on, I was anxious at each patient encounter, concerned that this might happen again. And it did several times during my residency and fellowship.

The Occupational Safety and Health Administration defines workplace violence as “any act or threat of physical violence, harassment, intimidation, or other threatening disruptive behavior that occurs at the work site. It ranges from threats and verbal abuse to physical assaults.”

There is considerable media focus on incidents of physical violence against health care workers, but when patients, their families, or visitors openly display bias and request a different doctor, nurse, or technician for nonmedical reasons, the impact is profound. This is extremely hurtful to a professional who has worked long and hard to acquire skills and expertise. And, while speech may not constitute violence in the strictest sense of the word, there is growing evidence that it can be physically harmful through its effect on the nervous system, even if no physical contact is involved.

Incidents of bias occur regularly and are clearly on the rise. In most cases the request for a different health care worker is granted to honor the rights of the patient. The healthcare worker is left alone and emotionally wounded; the healthcare institutions are complicit.

This bias is mostly racial but can also be based on religion, sexual orientation, age, disability, body size, accent, or gender.

An entire issue of the American Medical Association Journal of Ethics was devoted to this topic. From recognizing that there are limits to what clinicians should be expected to tolerate when patients’ preferences express unjust bias, the issue also explored where those limits should be placed, why, and who is obliged to enforce them.

The newly adopted Mass General Patient Code of Conduct is evidence that health care systems are beginning to recognize this problem and that such behavior will not be tolerated.

But having a zero-tolerance policy is not enough. We must have procedures in place to discourage and mitigate the impact of patient bias.

A clear definition of what constitutes a bias incident is essential. All team members must be made aware of the procedures for reporting such incidents and the chain of command for escalation. Reporting should be encouraged, and resources must be made available to impacted team members. Surveillance, monitoring, and review are also essential as is clarification on when patient preferences should be honored.

The Mayo Clinic 5 Step Plan is an excellent example of a protocol to deal with patient bias against health care workers and is based on a thoughtful analysis of what constitutes an unreasonable request for a different clinician. I’m pleased to report that my health care system (Inova Health) is developing a similar protocol.

The health care setting should be a bias-free zone for both patients and health care workers. I have been a strong advocate of patients’ rights and worked hard to guard against bias and eliminate disparities in care, but health care workers have rights as well.

We should expect to be treated with respect.

The views expressed by the author are those of the author alone and do not represent the views of the Inova Health System. Dr. Francis is a cardiologist at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute, McLean, Va. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

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

It was 1970. I was in my second year of medical school. I had been up half the night preparing for a history and physical on a patient with aortic stenosis. When I arrived at the bedside, he refused to talk to me or allow me to examine him. He requested a “White doctor” instead. I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday.

Coming from the Deep South, I was very familiar with racial bias, but I did not expect it at that level and in that environment. From that point on, I was anxious at each patient encounter, concerned that this might happen again. And it did several times during my residency and fellowship.

The Occupational Safety and Health Administration defines workplace violence as “any act or threat of physical violence, harassment, intimidation, or other threatening disruptive behavior that occurs at the work site. It ranges from threats and verbal abuse to physical assaults.”

There is considerable media focus on incidents of physical violence against health care workers, but when patients, their families, or visitors openly display bias and request a different doctor, nurse, or technician for nonmedical reasons, the impact is profound. This is extremely hurtful to a professional who has worked long and hard to acquire skills and expertise. And, while speech may not constitute violence in the strictest sense of the word, there is growing evidence that it can be physically harmful through its effect on the nervous system, even if no physical contact is involved.

Incidents of bias occur regularly and are clearly on the rise. In most cases the request for a different health care worker is granted to honor the rights of the patient. The healthcare worker is left alone and emotionally wounded; the healthcare institutions are complicit.

This bias is mostly racial but can also be based on religion, sexual orientation, age, disability, body size, accent, or gender.

An entire issue of the American Medical Association Journal of Ethics was devoted to this topic. From recognizing that there are limits to what clinicians should be expected to tolerate when patients’ preferences express unjust bias, the issue also explored where those limits should be placed, why, and who is obliged to enforce them.

The newly adopted Mass General Patient Code of Conduct is evidence that health care systems are beginning to recognize this problem and that such behavior will not be tolerated.

But having a zero-tolerance policy is not enough. We must have procedures in place to discourage and mitigate the impact of patient bias.

A clear definition of what constitutes a bias incident is essential. All team members must be made aware of the procedures for reporting such incidents and the chain of command for escalation. Reporting should be encouraged, and resources must be made available to impacted team members. Surveillance, monitoring, and review are also essential as is clarification on when patient preferences should be honored.

The Mayo Clinic 5 Step Plan is an excellent example of a protocol to deal with patient bias against health care workers and is based on a thoughtful analysis of what constitutes an unreasonable request for a different clinician. I’m pleased to report that my health care system (Inova Health) is developing a similar protocol.

The health care setting should be a bias-free zone for both patients and health care workers. I have been a strong advocate of patients’ rights and worked hard to guard against bias and eliminate disparities in care, but health care workers have rights as well.

We should expect to be treated with respect.

The views expressed by the author are those of the author alone and do not represent the views of the Inova Health System. Dr. Francis is a cardiologist at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute, McLean, Va. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

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

It was 1970. I was in my second year of medical school. I had been up half the night preparing for a history and physical on a patient with aortic stenosis. When I arrived at the bedside, he refused to talk to me or allow me to examine him. He requested a “White doctor” instead. I can remember the hurt and embarrassment as if it were yesterday.

Coming from the Deep South, I was very familiar with racial bias, but I did not expect it at that level and in that environment. From that point on, I was anxious at each patient encounter, concerned that this might happen again. And it did several times during my residency and fellowship.

The Occupational Safety and Health Administration defines workplace violence as “any act or threat of physical violence, harassment, intimidation, or other threatening disruptive behavior that occurs at the work site. It ranges from threats and verbal abuse to physical assaults.”

There is considerable media focus on incidents of physical violence against health care workers, but when patients, their families, or visitors openly display bias and request a different doctor, nurse, or technician for nonmedical reasons, the impact is profound. This is extremely hurtful to a professional who has worked long and hard to acquire skills and expertise. And, while speech may not constitute violence in the strictest sense of the word, there is growing evidence that it can be physically harmful through its effect on the nervous system, even if no physical contact is involved.

Incidents of bias occur regularly and are clearly on the rise. In most cases the request for a different health care worker is granted to honor the rights of the patient. The healthcare worker is left alone and emotionally wounded; the healthcare institutions are complicit.

This bias is mostly racial but can also be based on religion, sexual orientation, age, disability, body size, accent, or gender.

An entire issue of the American Medical Association Journal of Ethics was devoted to this topic. From recognizing that there are limits to what clinicians should be expected to tolerate when patients’ preferences express unjust bias, the issue also explored where those limits should be placed, why, and who is obliged to enforce them.

The newly adopted Mass General Patient Code of Conduct is evidence that health care systems are beginning to recognize this problem and that such behavior will not be tolerated.

But having a zero-tolerance policy is not enough. We must have procedures in place to discourage and mitigate the impact of patient bias.

A clear definition of what constitutes a bias incident is essential. All team members must be made aware of the procedures for reporting such incidents and the chain of command for escalation. Reporting should be encouraged, and resources must be made available to impacted team members. Surveillance, monitoring, and review are also essential as is clarification on when patient preferences should be honored.

The Mayo Clinic 5 Step Plan is an excellent example of a protocol to deal with patient bias against health care workers and is based on a thoughtful analysis of what constitutes an unreasonable request for a different clinician. I’m pleased to report that my health care system (Inova Health) is developing a similar protocol.

The health care setting should be a bias-free zone for both patients and health care workers. I have been a strong advocate of patients’ rights and worked hard to guard against bias and eliminate disparities in care, but health care workers have rights as well.

We should expect to be treated with respect.

The views expressed by the author are those of the author alone and do not represent the views of the Inova Health System. Dr. Francis is a cardiologist at Inova Heart and Vascular Institute, McLean, Va. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

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

Welcome to Impact Factor, your weekly dose of commentary on a new medical study. I’m Dr F. Perry Wilson of the Yale School of Medicine.

As soon as the pandemic started, the search was on for a medication that could stave off infection, or at least the worst consequences of infection.

One that would be cheap to make, safe, easy to distribute, and, ideally, was already available. The search had a quest-like quality, like something from a fairy tale. Society, poisoned by COVID, would find the antidote out there, somewhere, if we looked hard enough.

You know the story. There were some pretty dramatic failures: hydroxychloroquine, ivermectin. There were some successes, like dexamethasone.

I’m not here today to tell you that the antidote has been found – no, it takes large randomized trials to figure that out. But I do want to tell you about a paper that, unlike so many that came before, lays out the argument for a potential COVID preventive so thoroughly and so rigorously, that it has convinced me that this little drug, ursodeoxycholic acid (UDCA) – you may know it as Actigall, used for an uncommon form of liver disease – may actually be useful to prevent COVID infection.

How do you make a case that an existing drug – UDCA, in this case – might be useful to prevent or treat COVID? In contrast to prior basic-science studies, like the original ivermectin study, which essentially took a bunch of cells and virus in a tube filled with varying concentrations of the antiparasitic agent, the authors of this paper appearing in Nature give us multiple, complementary lines of evidence. Let me walk you through it.

All good science starts with a biologically plausible hypothesis. In this case, the authors recognized that SARS-CoV-2, in all its variants, requires the presence of the ACE2 receptor on the surface of cells to bind.

Courtesy Innovative Genomics

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Dr. F. Perry Wilson

courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, is an associate professor of medicine and director of Yale’s Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this video transcript first appeared on Medscape.com.

Welcome to Impact Factor, your weekly dose of commentary on a new medical study. I’m Dr F. Perry Wilson of the Yale School of Medicine.

As soon as the pandemic started, the search was on for a medication that could stave off infection, or at least the worst consequences of infection.

One that would be cheap to make, safe, easy to distribute, and, ideally, was already available. The search had a quest-like quality, like something from a fairy tale. Society, poisoned by COVID, would find the antidote out there, somewhere, if we looked hard enough.

You know the story. There were some pretty dramatic failures: hydroxychloroquine, ivermectin. There were some successes, like dexamethasone.

I’m not here today to tell you that the antidote has been found – no, it takes large randomized trials to figure that out. But I do want to tell you about a paper that, unlike so many that came before, lays out the argument for a potential COVID preventive so thoroughly and so rigorously, that it has convinced me that this little drug, ursodeoxycholic acid (UDCA) – you may know it as Actigall, used for an uncommon form of liver disease – may actually be useful to prevent COVID infection.

How do you make a case that an existing drug – UDCA, in this case – might be useful to prevent or treat COVID? In contrast to prior basic-science studies, like the original ivermectin study, which essentially took a bunch of cells and virus in a tube filled with varying concentrations of the antiparasitic agent, the authors of this paper appearing in Nature give us multiple, complementary lines of evidence. Let me walk you through it.

All good science starts with a biologically plausible hypothesis. In this case, the authors recognized that SARS-CoV-2, in all its variants, requires the presence of the ACE2 receptor on the surface of cells to bind.

Courtesy Innovative Genomics

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Dr. F. Perry Wilson

courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, is an associate professor of medicine and director of Yale’s Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this video transcript first appeared on Medscape.com.

Welcome to Impact Factor, your weekly dose of commentary on a new medical study. I’m Dr F. Perry Wilson of the Yale School of Medicine.

As soon as the pandemic started, the search was on for a medication that could stave off infection, or at least the worst consequences of infection.

One that would be cheap to make, safe, easy to distribute, and, ideally, was already available. The search had a quest-like quality, like something from a fairy tale. Society, poisoned by COVID, would find the antidote out there, somewhere, if we looked hard enough.

You know the story. There were some pretty dramatic failures: hydroxychloroquine, ivermectin. There were some successes, like dexamethasone.

I’m not here today to tell you that the antidote has been found – no, it takes large randomized trials to figure that out. But I do want to tell you about a paper that, unlike so many that came before, lays out the argument for a potential COVID preventive so thoroughly and so rigorously, that it has convinced me that this little drug, ursodeoxycholic acid (UDCA) – you may know it as Actigall, used for an uncommon form of liver disease – may actually be useful to prevent COVID infection.

How do you make a case that an existing drug – UDCA, in this case – might be useful to prevent or treat COVID? In contrast to prior basic-science studies, like the original ivermectin study, which essentially took a bunch of cells and virus in a tube filled with varying concentrations of the antiparasitic agent, the authors of this paper appearing in Nature give us multiple, complementary lines of evidence. Let me walk you through it.

All good science starts with a biologically plausible hypothesis. In this case, the authors recognized that SARS-CoV-2, in all its variants, requires the presence of the ACE2 receptor on the surface of cells to bind.

Courtesy Innovative Genomics

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

Courtesy Dr. F. Perry Wilson

courtesy Nature

Courtesy Nature

F. Perry Wilson, MD, MSCE, is an associate professor of medicine and director of Yale’s Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator. He disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this video transcript first appeared on Medscape.com.