Commentary

I was recently interviewed, as a gay psychiatrist treating gay patients who lived through the AIDS epidemic, about my perspectives on living through a COVID pandemic: Were there parallels and contrasts between the two? A month later, listening to patients remotely via teletherapy, I’m experiencing an unsettling similarity to serosorting, a phenomenon that emerged during the AIDS epidemic.

Serosorting is the practice of choosing a sexual partner based on their HIV serostatus. Sorting out who was positive from who was negative allowed people to give themselves permission to have unprotected sex without risk of getting HIV. However, it was not uncommon to make those decisions without really knowing a potential partner’s actual serostatus. In fact, a lot of people serosorted by guessing.

Why not just ask a potential partner, “What’s your serostatus?” Apparently, for some, introducing the subject of HIV was deemed a sexual buzzkill. Instead, assumptions were made based on outer appearances.

Did someone look healthy? Were they well built? Were they overweight, meaning not emaciated from AIDS? If so, they were presumed negative and safe to have risky, unprotected sex with them.

Some imagined age correlated with serostatus. Since anyone older than some arbitrary age – like 30, to pull a number out of a hat – was expected to be more likely to have HIV than someone under 30, they would use that guideline in choosing sexual partners. However, these decisions were made without factual knowledge, like a blood test, but using some internal reasoning process.

Which brings us to what might be called “COVID-sorting.”

Some of my patients believe they had COVID-19, although they’d not been tested to either confirm or disprove that belief. Others had positive COVID-19 antibody tests, which they believe provides immunity. Among that group, some had symptoms, others did not.

Yet regardless of what they actually know or don’t know, patients are making calculations about managing physical distancing using their own internal formulas. They make risk calculations having little to do with actual knowledge of public health precautions on preventing COVID’s spread.

For example, one patient was planning a Memorial Day weekend in a shared Fire Island house with five friends and acquaintances. All six live alone and, as far as he knows, all are physically distancing. Consequently, my patient doesn’t think house-sharing is anything to worry about, even though he doesn’t know how scrupulously others have followed distancing guidelines.

Another patient, recovering at home after being ill with COVID-19, felt safe inviting someone over for sex who had also been ill and recovered. He didn’t think they could infect each other, presuming, not altogether unreasonably, they were both immune.

Finally, there are those who don’t know whether they had COVID-19, but think they did because they experienced influenza-like symptoms. They are giving themselves permission to meet up with others who feel the same.

Yet a Mount Sinai study, which has not yet been peer-reviewed, raises fascinating issues about immunity. The study included 719 people who suspected they had COVID-19 based on some respiratory symptoms. The majority, 62%, had no antibodies. Researchers believe they mistook influenza, another viral infection, or allergies for COVID-19 (medRxiv. 2020 May 5. doi: 10.1101/2020.04.04.2008516).

The study also included 624 people who tested positive for the virus and recovered. All but three developed antibodies. Many assume those who are antibody-positive are now immune. They may be right. However, we don’t know definitively that they are, and if they are, we do not yet know how long immunity may last. Further, as reported in the New York Times, just because you test positive for antibodies, doesn’t mean you have them.

It should be underscored that COVID-sorting is not limited to gay men or psychiatric patients. Central Park, these days, is filled with many unmasked, nonsocially isolating people of all sexual orientations and genders who are making their own questionable decisions. And as many states have begun opening up restrictions on social gatherings, we are seeing an all-too-human psychological mindset with wider implications – rising numbers of cases. As we move forward, all of us will have to decide for ourselves, and not only in sexual situations, how to get on with our lives in a post–COVID-19 era.

Given how much is still unknown, it is likely each of us will come up with our own algorithm of risk assessment. It is likely that the formulas used will not necessarily be based on scientific facts, although that would be ideal. If past epidemic and recent pandemic behaviors are any indicators, people’s actions will reflect some combination of their own needs and desires, their own comfort level with risk-taking, and their relative understanding of complex subjects like virology, immunology, epidemiology, and public health. The challenge faced by public health officials today is to translate complex scientific and medical issues into messages average people can understand.

What exactly can be done? I’m not exactly sure, but I hope that improved education and communication can help. In the first 2 decades of the AIDS epidemic, efforts were made to change and tailor HIV-prevention messages to specific, at-risk demographic groups. Today, public health messages aimed at preventing COVID-19’s spread that resonate with older people can fall on a younger person’s deaf ears. One message size does not fit all. Hopefully, public health officials and government leaders will act on this sooner rather than later.
 

Dr. Drescher, a psychoanalyst, is clinical professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, and training and supervising analyst at the William A. White Institute, both in New York. He also is emeritus editor of the Journal of Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. Dr. Drescher has no other disclosures.

I was recently interviewed, as a gay psychiatrist treating gay patients who lived through the AIDS epidemic, about my perspectives on living through a COVID pandemic: Were there parallels and contrasts between the two? A month later, listening to patients remotely via teletherapy, I’m experiencing an unsettling similarity to serosorting, a phenomenon that emerged during the AIDS epidemic.

Serosorting is the practice of choosing a sexual partner based on their HIV serostatus. Sorting out who was positive from who was negative allowed people to give themselves permission to have unprotected sex without risk of getting HIV. However, it was not uncommon to make those decisions without really knowing a potential partner’s actual serostatus. In fact, a lot of people serosorted by guessing.

Why not just ask a potential partner, “What’s your serostatus?” Apparently, for some, introducing the subject of HIV was deemed a sexual buzzkill. Instead, assumptions were made based on outer appearances.

Did someone look healthy? Were they well built? Were they overweight, meaning not emaciated from AIDS? If so, they were presumed negative and safe to have risky, unprotected sex with them.

Some imagined age correlated with serostatus. Since anyone older than some arbitrary age – like 30, to pull a number out of a hat – was expected to be more likely to have HIV than someone under 30, they would use that guideline in choosing sexual partners. However, these decisions were made without factual knowledge, like a blood test, but using some internal reasoning process.

Which brings us to what might be called “COVID-sorting.”

Some of my patients believe they had COVID-19, although they’d not been tested to either confirm or disprove that belief. Others had positive COVID-19 antibody tests, which they believe provides immunity. Among that group, some had symptoms, others did not.

Yet regardless of what they actually know or don’t know, patients are making calculations about managing physical distancing using their own internal formulas. They make risk calculations having little to do with actual knowledge of public health precautions on preventing COVID’s spread.

For example, one patient was planning a Memorial Day weekend in a shared Fire Island house with five friends and acquaintances. All six live alone and, as far as he knows, all are physically distancing. Consequently, my patient doesn’t think house-sharing is anything to worry about, even though he doesn’t know how scrupulously others have followed distancing guidelines.

Another patient, recovering at home after being ill with COVID-19, felt safe inviting someone over for sex who had also been ill and recovered. He didn’t think they could infect each other, presuming, not altogether unreasonably, they were both immune.

Finally, there are those who don’t know whether they had COVID-19, but think they did because they experienced influenza-like symptoms. They are giving themselves permission to meet up with others who feel the same.

Yet a Mount Sinai study, which has not yet been peer-reviewed, raises fascinating issues about immunity. The study included 719 people who suspected they had COVID-19 based on some respiratory symptoms. The majority, 62%, had no antibodies. Researchers believe they mistook influenza, another viral infection, or allergies for COVID-19 (medRxiv. 2020 May 5. doi: 10.1101/2020.04.04.2008516).

The study also included 624 people who tested positive for the virus and recovered. All but three developed antibodies. Many assume those who are antibody-positive are now immune. They may be right. However, we don’t know definitively that they are, and if they are, we do not yet know how long immunity may last. Further, as reported in the New York Times, just because you test positive for antibodies, doesn’t mean you have them.

It should be underscored that COVID-sorting is not limited to gay men or psychiatric patients. Central Park, these days, is filled with many unmasked, nonsocially isolating people of all sexual orientations and genders who are making their own questionable decisions. And as many states have begun opening up restrictions on social gatherings, we are seeing an all-too-human psychological mindset with wider implications – rising numbers of cases. As we move forward, all of us will have to decide for ourselves, and not only in sexual situations, how to get on with our lives in a post–COVID-19 era.

Given how much is still unknown, it is likely each of us will come up with our own algorithm of risk assessment. It is likely that the formulas used will not necessarily be based on scientific facts, although that would be ideal. If past epidemic and recent pandemic behaviors are any indicators, people’s actions will reflect some combination of their own needs and desires, their own comfort level with risk-taking, and their relative understanding of complex subjects like virology, immunology, epidemiology, and public health. The challenge faced by public health officials today is to translate complex scientific and medical issues into messages average people can understand.

What exactly can be done? I’m not exactly sure, but I hope that improved education and communication can help. In the first 2 decades of the AIDS epidemic, efforts were made to change and tailor HIV-prevention messages to specific, at-risk demographic groups. Today, public health messages aimed at preventing COVID-19’s spread that resonate with older people can fall on a younger person’s deaf ears. One message size does not fit all. Hopefully, public health officials and government leaders will act on this sooner rather than later.
 

Dr. Drescher, a psychoanalyst, is clinical professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, and training and supervising analyst at the William A. White Institute, both in New York. He also is emeritus editor of the Journal of Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. Dr. Drescher has no other disclosures.

I was recently interviewed, as a gay psychiatrist treating gay patients who lived through the AIDS epidemic, about my perspectives on living through a COVID pandemic: Were there parallels and contrasts between the two? A month later, listening to patients remotely via teletherapy, I’m experiencing an unsettling similarity to serosorting, a phenomenon that emerged during the AIDS epidemic.

Serosorting is the practice of choosing a sexual partner based on their HIV serostatus. Sorting out who was positive from who was negative allowed people to give themselves permission to have unprotected sex without risk of getting HIV. However, it was not uncommon to make those decisions without really knowing a potential partner’s actual serostatus. In fact, a lot of people serosorted by guessing.

Why not just ask a potential partner, “What’s your serostatus?” Apparently, for some, introducing the subject of HIV was deemed a sexual buzzkill. Instead, assumptions were made based on outer appearances.

Did someone look healthy? Were they well built? Were they overweight, meaning not emaciated from AIDS? If so, they were presumed negative and safe to have risky, unprotected sex with them.

Some imagined age correlated with serostatus. Since anyone older than some arbitrary age – like 30, to pull a number out of a hat – was expected to be more likely to have HIV than someone under 30, they would use that guideline in choosing sexual partners. However, these decisions were made without factual knowledge, like a blood test, but using some internal reasoning process.

Which brings us to what might be called “COVID-sorting.”

Some of my patients believe they had COVID-19, although they’d not been tested to either confirm or disprove that belief. Others had positive COVID-19 antibody tests, which they believe provides immunity. Among that group, some had symptoms, others did not.

Yet regardless of what they actually know or don’t know, patients are making calculations about managing physical distancing using their own internal formulas. They make risk calculations having little to do with actual knowledge of public health precautions on preventing COVID’s spread.

For example, one patient was planning a Memorial Day weekend in a shared Fire Island house with five friends and acquaintances. All six live alone and, as far as he knows, all are physically distancing. Consequently, my patient doesn’t think house-sharing is anything to worry about, even though he doesn’t know how scrupulously others have followed distancing guidelines.

Another patient, recovering at home after being ill with COVID-19, felt safe inviting someone over for sex who had also been ill and recovered. He didn’t think they could infect each other, presuming, not altogether unreasonably, they were both immune.

Finally, there are those who don’t know whether they had COVID-19, but think they did because they experienced influenza-like symptoms. They are giving themselves permission to meet up with others who feel the same.

Yet a Mount Sinai study, which has not yet been peer-reviewed, raises fascinating issues about immunity. The study included 719 people who suspected they had COVID-19 based on some respiratory symptoms. The majority, 62%, had no antibodies. Researchers believe they mistook influenza, another viral infection, or allergies for COVID-19 (medRxiv. 2020 May 5. doi: 10.1101/2020.04.04.2008516).

The study also included 624 people who tested positive for the virus and recovered. All but three developed antibodies. Many assume those who are antibody-positive are now immune. They may be right. However, we don’t know definitively that they are, and if they are, we do not yet know how long immunity may last. Further, as reported in the New York Times, just because you test positive for antibodies, doesn’t mean you have them.

It should be underscored that COVID-sorting is not limited to gay men or psychiatric patients. Central Park, these days, is filled with many unmasked, nonsocially isolating people of all sexual orientations and genders who are making their own questionable decisions. And as many states have begun opening up restrictions on social gatherings, we are seeing an all-too-human psychological mindset with wider implications – rising numbers of cases. As we move forward, all of us will have to decide for ourselves, and not only in sexual situations, how to get on with our lives in a post–COVID-19 era.

Given how much is still unknown, it is likely each of us will come up with our own algorithm of risk assessment. It is likely that the formulas used will not necessarily be based on scientific facts, although that would be ideal. If past epidemic and recent pandemic behaviors are any indicators, people’s actions will reflect some combination of their own needs and desires, their own comfort level with risk-taking, and their relative understanding of complex subjects like virology, immunology, epidemiology, and public health. The challenge faced by public health officials today is to translate complex scientific and medical issues into messages average people can understand.

What exactly can be done? I’m not exactly sure, but I hope that improved education and communication can help. In the first 2 decades of the AIDS epidemic, efforts were made to change and tailor HIV-prevention messages to specific, at-risk demographic groups. Today, public health messages aimed at preventing COVID-19’s spread that resonate with older people can fall on a younger person’s deaf ears. One message size does not fit all. Hopefully, public health officials and government leaders will act on this sooner rather than later.
 

Dr. Drescher, a psychoanalyst, is clinical professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, and training and supervising analyst at the William A. White Institute, both in New York. He also is emeritus editor of the Journal of Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. Dr. Drescher has no other disclosures.

Racism has been around for a very long time, and we still have a long way to go to eradicate it, in all of its forms. Racism can be subtle, such as not offering employment to a fully qualified candidate or lowering your level of care because of the color of a person’s skin. Also, you never know if the future will place you in the same position as that of the person you are discriminating against or excluding. Diversity through the mixture of cultures and races is what provides a richness to our communities and our country.

No matter what race we may be, we all are human and deserve to be treated and respected as such. The patient you misunderstood, feared, or dismissed could be the same person who helps you become a better physician. For instance, one of my teenage patients of Chinese descent confessed one day that she was feeling depressed, sometimes to the point of suicidal ideation. However, she was adamant that I not report this condition to her parents. From her, I learned that mental illness, such as depression, are taboo subjects in Asian cultures. This information enabled me to be more sensitive with handling this patient’s condition and treatment.

In many cities across America, people have been protesting the recent tragic death of Mr. George Floyd, an African American man killed by a white police officer. In the past few months, unfortunately, we have seen similar cases of racist acts against African Americans. Sadly, this is nothing new.

There are examples of racist acts against other racial groups as well. Since the coronavirus pandemic became global news, Asian Americans have faced a wave of intense xenophobia in the United States. Be mindful that one race suffering injustice in one country could themselves be racist against another group given the opportunity. An example of this was reported in an April 16, 2020, article in the Los Angeles Times. The events took place in Guangzhou, China. The article reported that Africans living there were harassed, targeted, and evicted from their homes in the port city following the positive COVID-19 tests of five Nigerians. Instead of imposing quarantine based on contact history, China’s response has been based on race amid the coronavirus crisis. Stories like this remind us that racism is not just black and white, but can occur by any dominant culture against the minority. To be clear, not everyone is a racist.

Fear of the unknown causes misunderstanding and weakens the relationship between a pediatrician and the patient. Instead, let us “be curious and not furious.”¹ We may look different on the outside, but inside we are all human, with feelings, desires, and dreams. An example of being misunderstood is commonly observed as others stereotype African American populations. For example, an African American mother may be described as rude, loud, and disrespectful by those in your office. Such labeling fails to take the time necessary to understand the other’s perspective, and it dismisses her. Why might she be acting this way? What false assumptions are you making? How would you react if you were frequently disrespected or dismissed? How would you react if you had to worry about being physically harmed? Your visage could appear to be angry or guarded – not exactly welcoming or pleasant. It is much easier to quickly dismiss such a patient and not be sincerely interested in what she or her child’s medical needs may be. Such a disposition only results in frustrating outcomes and the destruction of trust between a patient and the provider.

Dr. Mba Wright is a primary care pediatrician practicing in Sacramento, Calif., for more than 14 years. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her at [email protected].
 

Reference

^{1. “Going the Distance: Finding and Keeping Lifelong Love” (New York, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1991).}

Racism has been around for a very long time, and we still have a long way to go to eradicate it, in all of its forms. Racism can be subtle, such as not offering employment to a fully qualified candidate or lowering your level of care because of the color of a person’s skin. Also, you never know if the future will place you in the same position as that of the person you are discriminating against or excluding. Diversity through the mixture of cultures and races is what provides a richness to our communities and our country.

No matter what race we may be, we all are human and deserve to be treated and respected as such. The patient you misunderstood, feared, or dismissed could be the same person who helps you become a better physician. For instance, one of my teenage patients of Chinese descent confessed one day that she was feeling depressed, sometimes to the point of suicidal ideation. However, she was adamant that I not report this condition to her parents. From her, I learned that mental illness, such as depression, are taboo subjects in Asian cultures. This information enabled me to be more sensitive with handling this patient’s condition and treatment.

In many cities across America, people have been protesting the recent tragic death of Mr. George Floyd, an African American man killed by a white police officer. In the past few months, unfortunately, we have seen similar cases of racist acts against African Americans. Sadly, this is nothing new.

There are examples of racist acts against other racial groups as well. Since the coronavirus pandemic became global news, Asian Americans have faced a wave of intense xenophobia in the United States. Be mindful that one race suffering injustice in one country could themselves be racist against another group given the opportunity. An example of this was reported in an April 16, 2020, article in the Los Angeles Times. The events took place in Guangzhou, China. The article reported that Africans living there were harassed, targeted, and evicted from their homes in the port city following the positive COVID-19 tests of five Nigerians. Instead of imposing quarantine based on contact history, China’s response has been based on race amid the coronavirus crisis. Stories like this remind us that racism is not just black and white, but can occur by any dominant culture against the minority. To be clear, not everyone is a racist.

Fear of the unknown causes misunderstanding and weakens the relationship between a pediatrician and the patient. Instead, let us “be curious and not furious.”¹ We may look different on the outside, but inside we are all human, with feelings, desires, and dreams. An example of being misunderstood is commonly observed as others stereotype African American populations. For example, an African American mother may be described as rude, loud, and disrespectful by those in your office. Such labeling fails to take the time necessary to understand the other’s perspective, and it dismisses her. Why might she be acting this way? What false assumptions are you making? How would you react if you were frequently disrespected or dismissed? How would you react if you had to worry about being physically harmed? Your visage could appear to be angry or guarded – not exactly welcoming or pleasant. It is much easier to quickly dismiss such a patient and not be sincerely interested in what she or her child’s medical needs may be. Such a disposition only results in frustrating outcomes and the destruction of trust between a patient and the provider.

Dr. Mba Wright is a primary care pediatrician practicing in Sacramento, Calif., for more than 14 years. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her at [email protected].
 

Reference

^{1. “Going the Distance: Finding and Keeping Lifelong Love” (New York, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1991).}

Racism has been around for a very long time, and we still have a long way to go to eradicate it, in all of its forms. Racism can be subtle, such as not offering employment to a fully qualified candidate or lowering your level of care because of the color of a person’s skin. Also, you never know if the future will place you in the same position as that of the person you are discriminating against or excluding. Diversity through the mixture of cultures and races is what provides a richness to our communities and our country.

No matter what race we may be, we all are human and deserve to be treated and respected as such. The patient you misunderstood, feared, or dismissed could be the same person who helps you become a better physician. For instance, one of my teenage patients of Chinese descent confessed one day that she was feeling depressed, sometimes to the point of suicidal ideation. However, she was adamant that I not report this condition to her parents. From her, I learned that mental illness, such as depression, are taboo subjects in Asian cultures. This information enabled me to be more sensitive with handling this patient’s condition and treatment.

In many cities across America, people have been protesting the recent tragic death of Mr. George Floyd, an African American man killed by a white police officer. In the past few months, unfortunately, we have seen similar cases of racist acts against African Americans. Sadly, this is nothing new.

There are examples of racist acts against other racial groups as well. Since the coronavirus pandemic became global news, Asian Americans have faced a wave of intense xenophobia in the United States. Be mindful that one race suffering injustice in one country could themselves be racist against another group given the opportunity. An example of this was reported in an April 16, 2020, article in the Los Angeles Times. The events took place in Guangzhou, China. The article reported that Africans living there were harassed, targeted, and evicted from their homes in the port city following the positive COVID-19 tests of five Nigerians. Instead of imposing quarantine based on contact history, China’s response has been based on race amid the coronavirus crisis. Stories like this remind us that racism is not just black and white, but can occur by any dominant culture against the minority. To be clear, not everyone is a racist.

Fear of the unknown causes misunderstanding and weakens the relationship between a pediatrician and the patient. Instead, let us “be curious and not furious.”¹ We may look different on the outside, but inside we are all human, with feelings, desires, and dreams. An example of being misunderstood is commonly observed as others stereotype African American populations. For example, an African American mother may be described as rude, loud, and disrespectful by those in your office. Such labeling fails to take the time necessary to understand the other’s perspective, and it dismisses her. Why might she be acting this way? What false assumptions are you making? How would you react if you were frequently disrespected or dismissed? How would you react if you had to worry about being physically harmed? Your visage could appear to be angry or guarded – not exactly welcoming or pleasant. It is much easier to quickly dismiss such a patient and not be sincerely interested in what she or her child’s medical needs may be. Such a disposition only results in frustrating outcomes and the destruction of trust between a patient and the provider.

Dr. Mba Wright is a primary care pediatrician practicing in Sacramento, Calif., for more than 14 years. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email her at [email protected].
 

Reference

^{1. “Going the Distance: Finding and Keeping Lifelong Love” (New York, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1991).}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In response to COVID-19, we have seen a rapid transformation to virtually delivered mental health care, essential for the prevention and treatment of various mental health conditions during an isolating and stress-inducing pandemic. Yet teletherapy and virtual medication management alone may not adequately address the needs of some of the populations we serve.

Take Jackson, whose name and details have been changed for privacy. A year ago, Jackson, in his last year of high school, began hearing voices that others could not hear. After becoming increasingly withdrawn, his father sought out treatment for him and learned that Jackson was experiencing his first episode of psychosis.

Psychosis involves disruptions in the way one processes thoughts and feelings or behaves, and includes delusions – or unusual beliefs – and hallucinations, meaning seeing and hearing things that others cannot. “First-episode psychosis” (FEP) simply refers to the first time an individual experiences this. It typically occurs between one’s teenage years and their 20s. Whereas some individuals recover from their first episode and may not experience another, others go on to experience recurrence, and sometimes a waxing and waning illness course.

Jackson enrolled in a comprehensive mental health program that not only includes a psychiatrist, but also therapists who provide case management services, as well as a peer specialist; this is someone with lived experience navigating mental illness. The program also includes an employment and education specialist and family and group therapy sessions. His team helped him identify and work toward his personal recovery goals: graduating from high school, obtaining a job, and maintaining a strong relationship with his father.

One hundred thousand adolescents and young adults like Jackson experience FEP each year, and now, in the wake of COVID-19, they probably have more limited access to the kind of support that can be vital to recovery.

Studies have shown that untreated psychosis can detrimentally affect quality of life in several ways, including by negatively affecting interpersonal relationships, interfering with obtaining or maintaining employment, and increasing the risk for problematic substance use. The psychosocial effects of COVID-19 could compound problems that individuals navigating psychosis already face, such as stigmatization, social isolation, and unemployment. On top of this, individuals who experience additional marginalization and downstream effects of systematic discriminatory practices by virtue of their race or ethnicity, immigration status, or language bear the brunt of some of this pandemic’s worst health inequities.

Early and efficacious treatment is critically important for individuals experiencing psychosis. Evidence shows that engagement in coordinated specialty care (CSC) specifically can improve outcomes, including the likelihood of being engaged in school or work and lower rates of hospitalization. CSC is a team-based approach that utilizes the unique skills of every team member to support an individual in reaching their recovery goals, whether it’s starting or finishing college or building a new relationship.

Unlike traditional treatment goals, which often focus on “symptom reduction,” recovery-oriented care is about supporting an individual in obtaining a sense of satisfaction, meaning, and purpose in life. CSC involves not only individual sessions with one’s psychiatrist or therapist, but collaboration with a patient’s peers, groups, family, and work. It also supports navigating such experiences as a job interview or a date. These key, multifaceted components must be made accessible and adapted during these times.

For individuals like Jackson, it is crucial to be able to continue accessing quality CSC, even during our current pandemic. Lisa Dixon, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, leads ONTrackNY, a statewide FEP program. She states that “effective, recovery-oriented treatment can make such a huge difference in the lives of these young people who are at a potential inflection point in their lives. Creative, collaborative clinicians can maintain connection and support.”

So how can we adapt CSC during this time? In addition to virtualized medication management and individual therapy, other components of CSC can be creatively adapted for online platforms. Group sessions can be completed virtually, from family to peer-led. Though the unemployment rate continues to rise, we can still help participants with a desire to work find employers that are offering remote work or navigate the risks of potential COVID-19 work exposures if remote options aren’t available. We can also support their developing skills to be used once other employers that pose less risk reopen.

For those in school, virtual education support can provide study skills, ways to cope with transition to an online classroom, or help with obtaining tutoring. Nutritionists can work remotely to provide support and creatively use online platforms for real-time feedback in a participant’s kitchen. Virtual case management is even more essential in the wake of COVID-19, from assistance with applying for unemployment insurance and financial aid to obtaining health insurance or determining eligibility.

For those without access to virtual platforms, individual and group telephone sessions and text check-ins can provide meaningful opportunities for continued engagement. For those who are unstably housed or have limited privacy in housing, teams must generate ideas of where to have remote sessions, such as a nearby park.

In a world now dominated by virtual care, it is critically important that individuals needing to see a clinician in person still be able to do so. Whether it is due to an acute crisis or to administer a long-acting injection medication, it is our responsibility to thoughtfully and judiciously remain available to patients, using appropriate personal protective equipment and precautions.

Jackson is one of many young people in recovery from psychosis. He is not defined by or limited by his experiences, but rather is navigating the possibilities that lie ahead of him, defining for himself who he wants to be in this world as it evolves. In the midst of COVID-19, as we seek to innovate – from how we exercise to how we throw birthday parties – let’s also be innovative in how we provide care and support for individuals experiencing psychosis.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In response to COVID-19, we have seen a rapid transformation to virtually delivered mental health care, essential for the prevention and treatment of various mental health conditions during an isolating and stress-inducing pandemic. Yet teletherapy and virtual medication management alone may not adequately address the needs of some of the populations we serve.

Take Jackson, whose name and details have been changed for privacy. A year ago, Jackson, in his last year of high school, began hearing voices that others could not hear. After becoming increasingly withdrawn, his father sought out treatment for him and learned that Jackson was experiencing his first episode of psychosis.

Psychosis involves disruptions in the way one processes thoughts and feelings or behaves, and includes delusions – or unusual beliefs – and hallucinations, meaning seeing and hearing things that others cannot. “First-episode psychosis” (FEP) simply refers to the first time an individual experiences this. It typically occurs between one’s teenage years and their 20s. Whereas some individuals recover from their first episode and may not experience another, others go on to experience recurrence, and sometimes a waxing and waning illness course.

Jackson enrolled in a comprehensive mental health program that not only includes a psychiatrist, but also therapists who provide case management services, as well as a peer specialist; this is someone with lived experience navigating mental illness. The program also includes an employment and education specialist and family and group therapy sessions. His team helped him identify and work toward his personal recovery goals: graduating from high school, obtaining a job, and maintaining a strong relationship with his father.

One hundred thousand adolescents and young adults like Jackson experience FEP each year, and now, in the wake of COVID-19, they probably have more limited access to the kind of support that can be vital to recovery.

Studies have shown that untreated psychosis can detrimentally affect quality of life in several ways, including by negatively affecting interpersonal relationships, interfering with obtaining or maintaining employment, and increasing the risk for problematic substance use. The psychosocial effects of COVID-19 could compound problems that individuals navigating psychosis already face, such as stigmatization, social isolation, and unemployment. On top of this, individuals who experience additional marginalization and downstream effects of systematic discriminatory practices by virtue of their race or ethnicity, immigration status, or language bear the brunt of some of this pandemic’s worst health inequities.

Early and efficacious treatment is critically important for individuals experiencing psychosis. Evidence shows that engagement in coordinated specialty care (CSC) specifically can improve outcomes, including the likelihood of being engaged in school or work and lower rates of hospitalization. CSC is a team-based approach that utilizes the unique skills of every team member to support an individual in reaching their recovery goals, whether it’s starting or finishing college or building a new relationship.

Unlike traditional treatment goals, which often focus on “symptom reduction,” recovery-oriented care is about supporting an individual in obtaining a sense of satisfaction, meaning, and purpose in life. CSC involves not only individual sessions with one’s psychiatrist or therapist, but collaboration with a patient’s peers, groups, family, and work. It also supports navigating such experiences as a job interview or a date. These key, multifaceted components must be made accessible and adapted during these times.

For individuals like Jackson, it is crucial to be able to continue accessing quality CSC, even during our current pandemic. Lisa Dixon, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, leads ONTrackNY, a statewide FEP program. She states that “effective, recovery-oriented treatment can make such a huge difference in the lives of these young people who are at a potential inflection point in their lives. Creative, collaborative clinicians can maintain connection and support.”

So how can we adapt CSC during this time? In addition to virtualized medication management and individual therapy, other components of CSC can be creatively adapted for online platforms. Group sessions can be completed virtually, from family to peer-led. Though the unemployment rate continues to rise, we can still help participants with a desire to work find employers that are offering remote work or navigate the risks of potential COVID-19 work exposures if remote options aren’t available. We can also support their developing skills to be used once other employers that pose less risk reopen.

For those in school, virtual education support can provide study skills, ways to cope with transition to an online classroom, or help with obtaining tutoring. Nutritionists can work remotely to provide support and creatively use online platforms for real-time feedback in a participant’s kitchen. Virtual case management is even more essential in the wake of COVID-19, from assistance with applying for unemployment insurance and financial aid to obtaining health insurance or determining eligibility.

For those without access to virtual platforms, individual and group telephone sessions and text check-ins can provide meaningful opportunities for continued engagement. For those who are unstably housed or have limited privacy in housing, teams must generate ideas of where to have remote sessions, such as a nearby park.

In a world now dominated by virtual care, it is critically important that individuals needing to see a clinician in person still be able to do so. Whether it is due to an acute crisis or to administer a long-acting injection medication, it is our responsibility to thoughtfully and judiciously remain available to patients, using appropriate personal protective equipment and precautions.

Jackson is one of many young people in recovery from psychosis. He is not defined by or limited by his experiences, but rather is navigating the possibilities that lie ahead of him, defining for himself who he wants to be in this world as it evolves. In the midst of COVID-19, as we seek to innovate – from how we exercise to how we throw birthday parties – let’s also be innovative in how we provide care and support for individuals experiencing psychosis.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In response to COVID-19, we have seen a rapid transformation to virtually delivered mental health care, essential for the prevention and treatment of various mental health conditions during an isolating and stress-inducing pandemic. Yet teletherapy and virtual medication management alone may not adequately address the needs of some of the populations we serve.

Take Jackson, whose name and details have been changed for privacy. A year ago, Jackson, in his last year of high school, began hearing voices that others could not hear. After becoming increasingly withdrawn, his father sought out treatment for him and learned that Jackson was experiencing his first episode of psychosis.

Psychosis involves disruptions in the way one processes thoughts and feelings or behaves, and includes delusions – or unusual beliefs – and hallucinations, meaning seeing and hearing things that others cannot. “First-episode psychosis” (FEP) simply refers to the first time an individual experiences this. It typically occurs between one’s teenage years and their 20s. Whereas some individuals recover from their first episode and may not experience another, others go on to experience recurrence, and sometimes a waxing and waning illness course.

Jackson enrolled in a comprehensive mental health program that not only includes a psychiatrist, but also therapists who provide case management services, as well as a peer specialist; this is someone with lived experience navigating mental illness. The program also includes an employment and education specialist and family and group therapy sessions. His team helped him identify and work toward his personal recovery goals: graduating from high school, obtaining a job, and maintaining a strong relationship with his father.

One hundred thousand adolescents and young adults like Jackson experience FEP each year, and now, in the wake of COVID-19, they probably have more limited access to the kind of support that can be vital to recovery.

Studies have shown that untreated psychosis can detrimentally affect quality of life in several ways, including by negatively affecting interpersonal relationships, interfering with obtaining or maintaining employment, and increasing the risk for problematic substance use. The psychosocial effects of COVID-19 could compound problems that individuals navigating psychosis already face, such as stigmatization, social isolation, and unemployment. On top of this, individuals who experience additional marginalization and downstream effects of systematic discriminatory practices by virtue of their race or ethnicity, immigration status, or language bear the brunt of some of this pandemic’s worst health inequities.

Early and efficacious treatment is critically important for individuals experiencing psychosis. Evidence shows that engagement in coordinated specialty care (CSC) specifically can improve outcomes, including the likelihood of being engaged in school or work and lower rates of hospitalization. CSC is a team-based approach that utilizes the unique skills of every team member to support an individual in reaching their recovery goals, whether it’s starting or finishing college or building a new relationship.

Unlike traditional treatment goals, which often focus on “symptom reduction,” recovery-oriented care is about supporting an individual in obtaining a sense of satisfaction, meaning, and purpose in life. CSC involves not only individual sessions with one’s psychiatrist or therapist, but collaboration with a patient’s peers, groups, family, and work. It also supports navigating such experiences as a job interview or a date. These key, multifaceted components must be made accessible and adapted during these times.

For individuals like Jackson, it is crucial to be able to continue accessing quality CSC, even during our current pandemic. Lisa Dixon, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, leads ONTrackNY, a statewide FEP program. She states that “effective, recovery-oriented treatment can make such a huge difference in the lives of these young people who are at a potential inflection point in their lives. Creative, collaborative clinicians can maintain connection and support.”

So how can we adapt CSC during this time? In addition to virtualized medication management and individual therapy, other components of CSC can be creatively adapted for online platforms. Group sessions can be completed virtually, from family to peer-led. Though the unemployment rate continues to rise, we can still help participants with a desire to work find employers that are offering remote work or navigate the risks of potential COVID-19 work exposures if remote options aren’t available. We can also support their developing skills to be used once other employers that pose less risk reopen.

For those in school, virtual education support can provide study skills, ways to cope with transition to an online classroom, or help with obtaining tutoring. Nutritionists can work remotely to provide support and creatively use online platforms for real-time feedback in a participant’s kitchen. Virtual case management is even more essential in the wake of COVID-19, from assistance with applying for unemployment insurance and financial aid to obtaining health insurance or determining eligibility.

For those without access to virtual platforms, individual and group telephone sessions and text check-ins can provide meaningful opportunities for continued engagement. For those who are unstably housed or have limited privacy in housing, teams must generate ideas of where to have remote sessions, such as a nearby park.

In a world now dominated by virtual care, it is critically important that individuals needing to see a clinician in person still be able to do so. Whether it is due to an acute crisis or to administer a long-acting injection medication, it is our responsibility to thoughtfully and judiciously remain available to patients, using appropriate personal protective equipment and precautions.

Jackson is one of many young people in recovery from psychosis. He is not defined by or limited by his experiences, but rather is navigating the possibilities that lie ahead of him, defining for himself who he wants to be in this world as it evolves. In the midst of COVID-19, as we seek to innovate – from how we exercise to how we throw birthday parties – let’s also be innovative in how we provide care and support for individuals experiencing psychosis.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

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

2. Medical management and risk assessment

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

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

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

2. Medical management and risk assessment

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

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Treatment recommendations

1. Establish a baseline EKG

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

2. Medical management and risk assessment

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

3. Embrace an individually tailored approach to therapeutics

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

References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kyle is a 14-year-old cisgender male who just moved to your town. At his first well-check, his single father brings him in reluctantly, stating, “We’ve never liked doctors.” Kyle has a history of asthma and obesity that have been relatively unchanged over time. He is an average student, an avid gamer, and seems somewhat shy. Privately he admits to occasional cannabis use. His father has no concerns, lamenting, “He’s always been pretty healthy for a fat kid.” Next patient?

SDI Productions/E+

Of course there is a lot to work with here. You might be concerned with Kyle’s asthma; his weight, sedentary nature, and body image; the criticism from his father and concerns about self-esteem; the possibility of anxiety in relation to his shyness; and the health effects of his cannabis use. In the end, recommendations for behavior change seem likely. These might take the form of tips on exercise, nutrition, substance use, study habits, parenting, social activities, or mental health support; the literature on behavior change would suggest that any success will be predicated on trust. How can we learn from someone we do not trust?¹

To build trust is no easy task, and yet is perhaps the foundation on which the entire clinical relationship rests. Guidance from decades of evidence supporting the use of motivational interviewing² suggests that the process of building rapport can be neatly summed up in an acronym as PACE. This represents Partnership, Acceptance, Compassion, and Evocation. Almost too clichéd to repeat, the most powerful change agent is the person making the change. In the setting of pediatric health care, we sometimes lean on caregivers to initiate or promote change because they are an intimate part of the patient’s microsystem, and thus moving one gear (the parents) inevitably shifts something in connected gears (the children).

So Partnership is centered on the patient, but inclusive of any important person in the patient’s sphere. In a family-based approach, this might show up as leveraging Kyle’s father’s motivation for behavior change by having the father start an exercise routine. This role models behavior change, shifts the home environment around the behavior, and builds empathy in the parent for the inherent challenges of change processes.

Acceptance can be distilled into knowing that the patient and family are doing the best they can. This does not preclude the possibility of change, but it seats this possibility in an attitude of assumed adequacy. There is nothing wrong with the patient, nothing to be fixed, just the possibility for change.

Similarly, Compassion takes a nonjudgmental viewpoint. With the stance of “this could happen to anybody,” the patient can feel responsible without feeling blamed. Noting the patient’s suffering without blame allows the clinician to be motivated not just to empathize, but to help.

And from this basis of compassionate partnership, the work of Evocation begins. What is happening in the patient’s life and relationships? What are their own goals and values? Where are the discrepancies between what the patient wants and what the patient does? For teenagers, this often brings into conflict developmentally appropriate wishes for autonomy – wanting to drive or get a car or stay out later or have more privacy – with developmentally typical challenges regarding responsibility.³ For example:

Clinician: “You want to use the car, and your parents want you to pay for the gas, but you’re out of money from buying weed. I see how you’re stuck.”

Teen: “Yeah, they really need to give me more allowance. It’s not like we’re living in the 1990s anymore!”

Clinician: “So you could ask for more allowance to get more money for gas. Any other ideas?”

Teen: “I could give up smoking pot and just be miserable all the time.”

Clinician: “Yeah, that sounds too difficult right now; if anything it sounds like you’d like to smoke more pot if you had more money.”

Teen: “Nah, I’m not that hooked on it. ... I could probably smoke a bit less each week and save some gas money.”

The PACE acronym also serves as a reminder of the patience required to grow connection where none has previously existed – pace yourself. Here are some skills-based tips to foster the spirit of motivational interviewing to help balance patience with the time frame of a pediatric check-in. The OARS skills represent the fundamental building blocks of motivational interviewing in practice. Taking the case of Kyle as an example, an Open-Ended Question makes space for the child or parent to express their views with less interviewer bias. Reflections expand this space by underscoring and, in the case of complex Reflections, adding some nuance to what the patient has to say.

Clinician: “How do you feel about your body?”

Teen: “Well, I’m fat. Nobody really wants to be fat. It sucks. But what can I do?”

Clinician: “You feel fat and kind of hopeless.”

Teen: “Yeah, I know you’re going to tell me to go on a diet and start exercising. Doesn’t work. My dad says I was born fat; I guess I’m going to stay that way.”

Clinician: “Sounds like you and your dad can get down on you for your weight. That must feel terrible.”

Teen: “Ah, it’s not that bad. I’m kind of used to it. Fat kid at home, fat kid at school.”

Affirmations are statements focusing on positive actions or attributes of the patient. They tend to build rapport by demonstrating that the clinician sees the strengths of the patient, not just the problems.

Clinician: “I’m pretty impressed that you’re able to show up here and talk about this. It can’t be easy when it sounds like your family and friends have put you down so much that you’re even putting yourself down about your body.”

Teen: “I didn’t really want to come, but then I thought, maybe this new doctor will have some new ideas. I actually want to do something about it, I just don’t know if anything will help. Plus my dad said if I showed up, we could go to McDonald’s afterward.”

Summaries are multipurpose. They demonstrate that you have been listening closely, which builds rapport. They provide a chance to put information together so that both clinician and patient can reflect on the sum of the data and notice what may be missing. And they provide a pause to consider where to go next.

Clinician: “So if I’m getting it right, you’ve been worried about your weight for a long time now. Your dad and your friends give you a hard time about it, which makes you feel down and hopeless, but somehow you stay brave and keep trying to figure it out. You feel ready to do something, you just don’t know what, and you were hoping maybe coming here could give you a place to work on your health. Does that sound about right?”

Teen: “I think that’s pretty much it. Plus the McDonald’s.”

Clinician: “Right, that’s important too – we have to consider your motivation! I wonder if we could talk about this more at our next visit – would that be alright?”

Offices with additional resources might be able to offer some of those as well, if timing seems appropriate; for example, referral to a wellness coach or social worker or nutritionist could be helpful int his case. The name of the game is small goals, building motivation a little more each visit, and maintaining the supportive connection. With the spirit of PACE and the skills of OARS, you can be well on your way to fostering behavior changes that could last a lifetime! Check out the resources from the American Academy of Pediatrics with video and narrative demonstrations of motivational interviewing in pediatrics.
 

Dr. Rosenfeld is assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center and the university’s Robert Larner College of Medicine, Burlington. He reported no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].

References

1. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “Engagement and disengagement,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

2. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “The spirit of motivational interviewing,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

3. Naar S, Suarez M. “Adolescence and emerging adulthood: A brief review of development,” in “Motivational interviewing with adolescents and young adults” (New York: Guilford, 2011).

Kyle is a 14-year-old cisgender male who just moved to your town. At his first well-check, his single father brings him in reluctantly, stating, “We’ve never liked doctors.” Kyle has a history of asthma and obesity that have been relatively unchanged over time. He is an average student, an avid gamer, and seems somewhat shy. Privately he admits to occasional cannabis use. His father has no concerns, lamenting, “He’s always been pretty healthy for a fat kid.” Next patient?

SDI Productions/E+

Of course there is a lot to work with here. You might be concerned with Kyle’s asthma; his weight, sedentary nature, and body image; the criticism from his father and concerns about self-esteem; the possibility of anxiety in relation to his shyness; and the health effects of his cannabis use. In the end, recommendations for behavior change seem likely. These might take the form of tips on exercise, nutrition, substance use, study habits, parenting, social activities, or mental health support; the literature on behavior change would suggest that any success will be predicated on trust. How can we learn from someone we do not trust?¹

To build trust is no easy task, and yet is perhaps the foundation on which the entire clinical relationship rests. Guidance from decades of evidence supporting the use of motivational interviewing² suggests that the process of building rapport can be neatly summed up in an acronym as PACE. This represents Partnership, Acceptance, Compassion, and Evocation. Almost too clichéd to repeat, the most powerful change agent is the person making the change. In the setting of pediatric health care, we sometimes lean on caregivers to initiate or promote change because they are an intimate part of the patient’s microsystem, and thus moving one gear (the parents) inevitably shifts something in connected gears (the children).

So Partnership is centered on the patient, but inclusive of any important person in the patient’s sphere. In a family-based approach, this might show up as leveraging Kyle’s father’s motivation for behavior change by having the father start an exercise routine. This role models behavior change, shifts the home environment around the behavior, and builds empathy in the parent for the inherent challenges of change processes.

Acceptance can be distilled into knowing that the patient and family are doing the best they can. This does not preclude the possibility of change, but it seats this possibility in an attitude of assumed adequacy. There is nothing wrong with the patient, nothing to be fixed, just the possibility for change.

Similarly, Compassion takes a nonjudgmental viewpoint. With the stance of “this could happen to anybody,” the patient can feel responsible without feeling blamed. Noting the patient’s suffering without blame allows the clinician to be motivated not just to empathize, but to help.

And from this basis of compassionate partnership, the work of Evocation begins. What is happening in the patient’s life and relationships? What are their own goals and values? Where are the discrepancies between what the patient wants and what the patient does? For teenagers, this often brings into conflict developmentally appropriate wishes for autonomy – wanting to drive or get a car or stay out later or have more privacy – with developmentally typical challenges regarding responsibility.³ For example:

Clinician: “You want to use the car, and your parents want you to pay for the gas, but you’re out of money from buying weed. I see how you’re stuck.”

Teen: “Yeah, they really need to give me more allowance. It’s not like we’re living in the 1990s anymore!”

Clinician: “So you could ask for more allowance to get more money for gas. Any other ideas?”

Teen: “I could give up smoking pot and just be miserable all the time.”

Clinician: “Yeah, that sounds too difficult right now; if anything it sounds like you’d like to smoke more pot if you had more money.”

Teen: “Nah, I’m not that hooked on it. ... I could probably smoke a bit less each week and save some gas money.”

The PACE acronym also serves as a reminder of the patience required to grow connection where none has previously existed – pace yourself. Here are some skills-based tips to foster the spirit of motivational interviewing to help balance patience with the time frame of a pediatric check-in. The OARS skills represent the fundamental building blocks of motivational interviewing in practice. Taking the case of Kyle as an example, an Open-Ended Question makes space for the child or parent to express their views with less interviewer bias. Reflections expand this space by underscoring and, in the case of complex Reflections, adding some nuance to what the patient has to say.

Clinician: “How do you feel about your body?”

Teen: “Well, I’m fat. Nobody really wants to be fat. It sucks. But what can I do?”

Clinician: “You feel fat and kind of hopeless.”

Teen: “Yeah, I know you’re going to tell me to go on a diet and start exercising. Doesn’t work. My dad says I was born fat; I guess I’m going to stay that way.”

Clinician: “Sounds like you and your dad can get down on you for your weight. That must feel terrible.”

Teen: “Ah, it’s not that bad. I’m kind of used to it. Fat kid at home, fat kid at school.”

Affirmations are statements focusing on positive actions or attributes of the patient. They tend to build rapport by demonstrating that the clinician sees the strengths of the patient, not just the problems.

Clinician: “I’m pretty impressed that you’re able to show up here and talk about this. It can’t be easy when it sounds like your family and friends have put you down so much that you’re even putting yourself down about your body.”

Teen: “I didn’t really want to come, but then I thought, maybe this new doctor will have some new ideas. I actually want to do something about it, I just don’t know if anything will help. Plus my dad said if I showed up, we could go to McDonald’s afterward.”

Summaries are multipurpose. They demonstrate that you have been listening closely, which builds rapport. They provide a chance to put information together so that both clinician and patient can reflect on the sum of the data and notice what may be missing. And they provide a pause to consider where to go next.

Clinician: “So if I’m getting it right, you’ve been worried about your weight for a long time now. Your dad and your friends give you a hard time about it, which makes you feel down and hopeless, but somehow you stay brave and keep trying to figure it out. You feel ready to do something, you just don’t know what, and you were hoping maybe coming here could give you a place to work on your health. Does that sound about right?”

Teen: “I think that’s pretty much it. Plus the McDonald’s.”

Clinician: “Right, that’s important too – we have to consider your motivation! I wonder if we could talk about this more at our next visit – would that be alright?”

Offices with additional resources might be able to offer some of those as well, if timing seems appropriate; for example, referral to a wellness coach or social worker or nutritionist could be helpful int his case. The name of the game is small goals, building motivation a little more each visit, and maintaining the supportive connection. With the spirit of PACE and the skills of OARS, you can be well on your way to fostering behavior changes that could last a lifetime! Check out the resources from the American Academy of Pediatrics with video and narrative demonstrations of motivational interviewing in pediatrics.
 

Dr. Rosenfeld is assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center and the university’s Robert Larner College of Medicine, Burlington. He reported no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].

References

1. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “Engagement and disengagement,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

2. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “The spirit of motivational interviewing,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

3. Naar S, Suarez M. “Adolescence and emerging adulthood: A brief review of development,” in “Motivational interviewing with adolescents and young adults” (New York: Guilford, 2011).

Kyle is a 14-year-old cisgender male who just moved to your town. At his first well-check, his single father brings him in reluctantly, stating, “We’ve never liked doctors.” Kyle has a history of asthma and obesity that have been relatively unchanged over time. He is an average student, an avid gamer, and seems somewhat shy. Privately he admits to occasional cannabis use. His father has no concerns, lamenting, “He’s always been pretty healthy for a fat kid.” Next patient?

SDI Productions/E+

Of course there is a lot to work with here. You might be concerned with Kyle’s asthma; his weight, sedentary nature, and body image; the criticism from his father and concerns about self-esteem; the possibility of anxiety in relation to his shyness; and the health effects of his cannabis use. In the end, recommendations for behavior change seem likely. These might take the form of tips on exercise, nutrition, substance use, study habits, parenting, social activities, or mental health support; the literature on behavior change would suggest that any success will be predicated on trust. How can we learn from someone we do not trust?¹

To build trust is no easy task, and yet is perhaps the foundation on which the entire clinical relationship rests. Guidance from decades of evidence supporting the use of motivational interviewing² suggests that the process of building rapport can be neatly summed up in an acronym as PACE. This represents Partnership, Acceptance, Compassion, and Evocation. Almost too clichéd to repeat, the most powerful change agent is the person making the change. In the setting of pediatric health care, we sometimes lean on caregivers to initiate or promote change because they are an intimate part of the patient’s microsystem, and thus moving one gear (the parents) inevitably shifts something in connected gears (the children).

So Partnership is centered on the patient, but inclusive of any important person in the patient’s sphere. In a family-based approach, this might show up as leveraging Kyle’s father’s motivation for behavior change by having the father start an exercise routine. This role models behavior change, shifts the home environment around the behavior, and builds empathy in the parent for the inherent challenges of change processes.

Acceptance can be distilled into knowing that the patient and family are doing the best they can. This does not preclude the possibility of change, but it seats this possibility in an attitude of assumed adequacy. There is nothing wrong with the patient, nothing to be fixed, just the possibility for change.

Similarly, Compassion takes a nonjudgmental viewpoint. With the stance of “this could happen to anybody,” the patient can feel responsible without feeling blamed. Noting the patient’s suffering without blame allows the clinician to be motivated not just to empathize, but to help.

And from this basis of compassionate partnership, the work of Evocation begins. What is happening in the patient’s life and relationships? What are their own goals and values? Where are the discrepancies between what the patient wants and what the patient does? For teenagers, this often brings into conflict developmentally appropriate wishes for autonomy – wanting to drive or get a car or stay out later or have more privacy – with developmentally typical challenges regarding responsibility.³ For example:

Clinician: “You want to use the car, and your parents want you to pay for the gas, but you’re out of money from buying weed. I see how you’re stuck.”

Teen: “Yeah, they really need to give me more allowance. It’s not like we’re living in the 1990s anymore!”

Clinician: “So you could ask for more allowance to get more money for gas. Any other ideas?”

Teen: “I could give up smoking pot and just be miserable all the time.”

Clinician: “Yeah, that sounds too difficult right now; if anything it sounds like you’d like to smoke more pot if you had more money.”

Teen: “Nah, I’m not that hooked on it. ... I could probably smoke a bit less each week and save some gas money.”

The PACE acronym also serves as a reminder of the patience required to grow connection where none has previously existed – pace yourself. Here are some skills-based tips to foster the spirit of motivational interviewing to help balance patience with the time frame of a pediatric check-in. The OARS skills represent the fundamental building blocks of motivational interviewing in practice. Taking the case of Kyle as an example, an Open-Ended Question makes space for the child or parent to express their views with less interviewer bias. Reflections expand this space by underscoring and, in the case of complex Reflections, adding some nuance to what the patient has to say.

Clinician: “How do you feel about your body?”

Teen: “Well, I’m fat. Nobody really wants to be fat. It sucks. But what can I do?”

Clinician: “You feel fat and kind of hopeless.”

Teen: “Yeah, I know you’re going to tell me to go on a diet and start exercising. Doesn’t work. My dad says I was born fat; I guess I’m going to stay that way.”

Clinician: “Sounds like you and your dad can get down on you for your weight. That must feel terrible.”

Teen: “Ah, it’s not that bad. I’m kind of used to it. Fat kid at home, fat kid at school.”

Affirmations are statements focusing on positive actions or attributes of the patient. They tend to build rapport by demonstrating that the clinician sees the strengths of the patient, not just the problems.

Clinician: “I’m pretty impressed that you’re able to show up here and talk about this. It can’t be easy when it sounds like your family and friends have put you down so much that you’re even putting yourself down about your body.”

Teen: “I didn’t really want to come, but then I thought, maybe this new doctor will have some new ideas. I actually want to do something about it, I just don’t know if anything will help. Plus my dad said if I showed up, we could go to McDonald’s afterward.”

Summaries are multipurpose. They demonstrate that you have been listening closely, which builds rapport. They provide a chance to put information together so that both clinician and patient can reflect on the sum of the data and notice what may be missing. And they provide a pause to consider where to go next.

Clinician: “So if I’m getting it right, you’ve been worried about your weight for a long time now. Your dad and your friends give you a hard time about it, which makes you feel down and hopeless, but somehow you stay brave and keep trying to figure it out. You feel ready to do something, you just don’t know what, and you were hoping maybe coming here could give you a place to work on your health. Does that sound about right?”

Teen: “I think that’s pretty much it. Plus the McDonald’s.”

Clinician: “Right, that’s important too – we have to consider your motivation! I wonder if we could talk about this more at our next visit – would that be alright?”

Offices with additional resources might be able to offer some of those as well, if timing seems appropriate; for example, referral to a wellness coach or social worker or nutritionist could be helpful int his case. The name of the game is small goals, building motivation a little more each visit, and maintaining the supportive connection. With the spirit of PACE and the skills of OARS, you can be well on your way to fostering behavior changes that could last a lifetime! Check out the resources from the American Academy of Pediatrics with video and narrative demonstrations of motivational interviewing in pediatrics.
 

Dr. Rosenfeld is assistant professor in the departments of psychiatry and pediatrics at the University of Vermont Medical Center and the university’s Robert Larner College of Medicine, Burlington. He reported no relevant disclosures. Email him at [email protected].

References

1. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “Engagement and disengagement,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

2. Miller WR, Rollnick S. “The spirit of motivational interviewing,” in “Motivational interviewing: Helping people change,” 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford, 2013).

3. Naar S, Suarez M. “Adolescence and emerging adulthood: A brief review of development,” in “Motivational interviewing with adolescents and young adults” (New York: Guilford, 2011).

Recent studies have shown a correlation between many dietary elements and skin diseases including acne, rosacea, and perioral dermatitis. In my practice, nutritional counseling is as important as skincare counseling. I have found that inflammatory skin conditions can be improved to some extent with dietary modifications, and there is now evidence that the aging process can also be slowed with a healthy diet. Previous studies have shown that intake of vegetables, fish, and foods high in vitamin C, carotenoids, olive oil, and linoleic acid are associated with decreased wrinkles.

Lisovskaya/iStock/Getty Images

In a Dutch population-based cohort study published in the Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology in 2019, Mekić et al. investigated the association between diet and facial wrinkles in an elderly population. Facial photographs were used to evaluate wrinkle severity and diet of the participants was assessed with the Food Frequency Questionnaire and adherence to the Dutch Healthy Diet Index (DHDI).

The DHDI is a measure of the ability to adhere to the Dutch Guidelines for a Healthy Diet. The guidelines recommend a daily intake in the diet of at least 200 g of vegetables daily; at least 200 g of fruit; 90 g of brown bread, wholemeal bread, or other whole-grain products; and at least 15 g of unsalted nuts. One serving of fish (preferably oily fish) per week and little to no dairy, alcohol, red meat, cooking fats, and sugar is also recommended.

The study revealed that better adherence to the DHDI was significantly associated with fewer wrinkles among women but not men. Women who ate more animal meat and fats and carbohydrates had more wrinkles than did those with a fruit-dominant diet.

Although other healthy behaviors such as exercise and alcohol are likely to play a role in confounding these data, UV exposure as a cause of wrinkling was accounted for, and in the study, increased outdoor exercise was associated with more wrinkles. Unhealthy food can induce oxidative stress, increased skin and gut inflammation, and glycation, which are some of the physiologic mechanisms suggested to increase wrinkle formation. In contrast, nutrients in fruits and vegetables stimulate collagen production and DNA repair and reduce oxidative stress on the skin.

Nutritional advice is largely rare in internal medicine, cardiology, and even endocrinology. We are developing better ways to assess and understand the way foods interact and cause inflammation of the gut and the body and skin. I highly recommend nutritional education be a part of our residency training programs and to make better guidelines on the prevention of skin disease and aging available for both practitioners and patients.


Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are cocontributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Talakoub. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.


References

Mekić S et al. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2019 May;80(5):1358-1363.e2.

Purba MB et al. J Am Coll Nutr. 2001;20(1):71‐80.

van Lee L et al. Nutr J. 2012 Jul 20;11:49.

Kromhout D et al. Eur J Clin Nutr. 2016 Aug;70(8):869‐78.


 

Recent studies have shown a correlation between many dietary elements and skin diseases including acne, rosacea, and perioral dermatitis. In my practice, nutritional counseling is as important as skincare counseling. I have found that inflammatory skin conditions can be improved to some extent with dietary modifications, and there is now evidence that the aging process can also be slowed with a healthy diet. Previous studies have shown that intake of vegetables, fish, and foods high in vitamin C, carotenoids, olive oil, and linoleic acid are associated with decreased wrinkles.

Lisovskaya/iStock/Getty Images

In a Dutch population-based cohort study published in the Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology in 2019, Mekić et al. investigated the association between diet and facial wrinkles in an elderly population. Facial photographs were used to evaluate wrinkle severity and diet of the participants was assessed with the Food Frequency Questionnaire and adherence to the Dutch Healthy Diet Index (DHDI).

The DHDI is a measure of the ability to adhere to the Dutch Guidelines for a Healthy Diet. The guidelines recommend a daily intake in the diet of at least 200 g of vegetables daily; at least 200 g of fruit; 90 g of brown bread, wholemeal bread, or other whole-grain products; and at least 15 g of unsalted nuts. One serving of fish (preferably oily fish) per week and little to no dairy, alcohol, red meat, cooking fats, and sugar is also recommended.

The study revealed that better adherence to the DHDI was significantly associated with fewer wrinkles among women but not men. Women who ate more animal meat and fats and carbohydrates had more wrinkles than did those with a fruit-dominant diet.

Although other healthy behaviors such as exercise and alcohol are likely to play a role in confounding these data, UV exposure as a cause of wrinkling was accounted for, and in the study, increased outdoor exercise was associated with more wrinkles. Unhealthy food can induce oxidative stress, increased skin and gut inflammation, and glycation, which are some of the physiologic mechanisms suggested to increase wrinkle formation. In contrast, nutrients in fruits and vegetables stimulate collagen production and DNA repair and reduce oxidative stress on the skin.

Nutritional advice is largely rare in internal medicine, cardiology, and even endocrinology. We are developing better ways to assess and understand the way foods interact and cause inflammation of the gut and the body and skin. I highly recommend nutritional education be a part of our residency training programs and to make better guidelines on the prevention of skin disease and aging available for both practitioners and patients.


Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are cocontributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Talakoub. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.


References

Mekić S et al. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2019 May;80(5):1358-1363.e2.

Purba MB et al. J Am Coll Nutr. 2001;20(1):71‐80.

van Lee L et al. Nutr J. 2012 Jul 20;11:49.

Kromhout D et al. Eur J Clin Nutr. 2016 Aug;70(8):869‐78.


 

Recent studies have shown a correlation between many dietary elements and skin diseases including acne, rosacea, and perioral dermatitis. In my practice, nutritional counseling is as important as skincare counseling. I have found that inflammatory skin conditions can be improved to some extent with dietary modifications, and there is now evidence that the aging process can also be slowed with a healthy diet. Previous studies have shown that intake of vegetables, fish, and foods high in vitamin C, carotenoids, olive oil, and linoleic acid are associated with decreased wrinkles.

Lisovskaya/iStock/Getty Images

In a Dutch population-based cohort study published in the Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology in 2019, Mekić et al. investigated the association between diet and facial wrinkles in an elderly population. Facial photographs were used to evaluate wrinkle severity and diet of the participants was assessed with the Food Frequency Questionnaire and adherence to the Dutch Healthy Diet Index (DHDI).

The DHDI is a measure of the ability to adhere to the Dutch Guidelines for a Healthy Diet. The guidelines recommend a daily intake in the diet of at least 200 g of vegetables daily; at least 200 g of fruit; 90 g of brown bread, wholemeal bread, or other whole-grain products; and at least 15 g of unsalted nuts. One serving of fish (preferably oily fish) per week and little to no dairy, alcohol, red meat, cooking fats, and sugar is also recommended.

The study revealed that better adherence to the DHDI was significantly associated with fewer wrinkles among women but not men. Women who ate more animal meat and fats and carbohydrates had more wrinkles than did those with a fruit-dominant diet.

Although other healthy behaviors such as exercise and alcohol are likely to play a role in confounding these data, UV exposure as a cause of wrinkling was accounted for, and in the study, increased outdoor exercise was associated with more wrinkles. Unhealthy food can induce oxidative stress, increased skin and gut inflammation, and glycation, which are some of the physiologic mechanisms suggested to increase wrinkle formation. In contrast, nutrients in fruits and vegetables stimulate collagen production and DNA repair and reduce oxidative stress on the skin.

Nutritional advice is largely rare in internal medicine, cardiology, and even endocrinology. We are developing better ways to assess and understand the way foods interact and cause inflammation of the gut and the body and skin. I highly recommend nutritional education be a part of our residency training programs and to make better guidelines on the prevention of skin disease and aging available for both practitioners and patients.


Dr. Wesley and Dr. Talakoub are cocontributors to this column. Dr. Wesley practices dermatology in Beverly Hills, Calif. Dr. Talakoub is in private practice in McLean, Va. This month’s column is by Dr. Talakoub. Write to them at [email protected]. They had no relevant disclosures.


References

Mekić S et al. J Am Acad Dermatol. 2019 May;80(5):1358-1363.e2.

Purba MB et al. J Am Coll Nutr. 2001;20(1):71‐80.

van Lee L et al. Nutr J. 2012 Jul 20;11:49.

Kromhout D et al. Eur J Clin Nutr. 2016 Aug;70(8):869‐78.


 

The global COVID-19 pandemic has escalated everyone’s stress levels, especially clinicians caring for hospitalized patients. New pressures have added to everyday stress, new studies have revised prior patient care recommendations, and the world generally seems upside down. What can a busy hospitalist do to maintain a modicum of sanity in all the craziness?

The stressors facing hospitalists

Uncertainty

Of all the burdens COVID-19 has unleashed, the biggest may be uncertainty. Not only is there unease about the virus itself, there also is legitimate concern about the future of medicine, said Elizabeth Harry, MD, SFHM, a hospitalist and senior director of clinical affairs at the University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora.

“What does it look like after an event like this, particularly in areas like academic medicine and teaching our next generation and getting funding for research? And how do we continue to produce physicians that can provide excellent care?” she asked.

There is also uncertainty in the best way to care for patients, said Eileen Barrett, MD, MPH, SFHM, a hospitalist at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque.

“There are some models that are emerging to predict who will have a worse outcome, but they’re still not great models, so we have uncertainty for a given patient.” And, she noted, as the science continues to evolve, there exists a constant worry that “you might have inadvertently caused someone harm.”

The financial implications of the pandemic are creating uncertainty too. “When you fund a health care system with elective procedures and you can’t do those, and instead have to shift to the most essential services, a lot of places are seeing a massive deficit, which is going to affect staff morale and some physician offices are going to close,” said Elisabeth Poorman, MD, MPH, a primary care and internal medicine physician and chair of the King County Medical Society Physician Wellness Committee in Seattle.
 

Fear

When the pandemic began in the United States, “fear of the unknown was perhaps the scariest part, particularly as it pertained to personal protective equipment,” said Mark Rudolph, MD, SFHM, chief experience officer and vice president of patient experience and physician development at Sound Physicians in Tacoma, Wash. “For most clinicians, this is the first time that they are themselves in harm’s way while they do their jobs. And worse, they risk bringing the virus home to their families. That is the concern I hear most.”

Anxiety

Worrying about being able to provide excellent patient care is a big stressor, especially since this is the heart and soul of why most hospitalists have gone into their line of work.

“Part of providing excellent care to your patients is providing excellent supportive care to their families,” Dr. Harry said. “There’s some dissonance there in not being able to allow the family to come visit, but wanting to keep them safe, and it feels really hard to support your patients and support their families in the best way. It can feel like you’re just watching and waiting to see what will happen, and that we don’t have a lot of agency over which direction things take.”

There is concern for health care team members as well, Dr. Harry added. “Physicians care a lot about their teams and how they’re doing. I think there’s a sense of esprit de corps among folks and worry for each other there.”
 

Guilt

Although you may be at the hospital all day, you may feel guilty when you are not providing direct patient care. Or maybe you or someone on your team has an immunodeficiency and can’t be on the front line. Perhaps one of your team members contracted COVID-19 and you did not. Whatever the case, guilt is another emotion that is rampant among hospitalists right now, Dr. Barrett said.

Burnout

Unfortunately, burnout is a potential reality in times of high stress. “Burnout is dynamic,” said Dr. Poorman. “It’s a process by which your emotional and cognitive reserves are exhausted. The people with the highest burnout are the ones who are still trying to provide the standard of care, or above the standard of care in dysfunctional systems.”

Dr. Harry noted that burnout presents in different ways for different people, but Dr. Rudolph added that it’s crucial for hospitalist team members to watch for signs of burnout so they can intervene and/or get help for their colleagues.

Warning signs in yourself or others that burnout could be on the horizon include:

• Fatigue/exhaustion – Whether emotional or physical (or both), this can become a problem if it “just doesn’t seem to go away despite rest and time away from work,” said Dr. Rudolph.
• Behavioral changes – Any behavior that’s out of the ordinary may be a red flag, like lashing out at someone at work.
• Overwork – Working too much can be caused by an inability to let go of patient care, Dr. Barrett said.
• Not working enough – This may include avoiding tasks and having difficulty meeting deadlines.
• Maladaptive coping behaviors – Excessive consumption of alcohol or drugs is a common coping mechanism. “Even excessive consumption of news is something that people are using to numb out a little bit,” said Dr. Harry.
• Depersonalization – “This is where you start to look at patients, colleagues, or administrators as ‘them’ and you can’t connect as deeply,” Dr. Harry said. “Part of that’s protective and a normal thing to do during a big trauma like this, but it’s also incredibly distancing. Any language that people start using that feels like ‘us’ or ‘them’ is a warning sign.”
• Disengagement – Many people disengage from their work, but Dr. Poorman said physicians tend to disengage from other parts of their lives, such as exercise and family interaction.

Protecting yourself while supporting others

Like the illustration of putting the oxygen mask on yourself first so you can help others, it’s important to protect your own mental and physical health as you support your fellow physicians. Here’s what the experts suggest.

Focus on basic needs

“When you’re in the midst of a trauma, which we are, you don’t want to open all of that up and go to the depths of your thoughts about the grief of all of it because it can actually make the trauma worse,” said Dr. Harry. “There’s a lot of literature that debriefing is really helpful after the event, but if you do it during the event, it can be really dangerous.”

Instead, she said, the goal should be focusing on your basic needs and what you need to do to get through each day, like keeping you and your family in good health. “What is your purpose? Staying connected to why you do this and staying focused on the present is really important,” Dr. Harry noted.

Do your best to get a good night’s sleep, exercise as much as you can, talk to others, and see a mental health provider if your anxiety is too high, advises Dr. Barrett. “Even avoiding blue light from phones and screens within 2 hours of bedtime, parking further away from the hospital and walking, and taking the stairs are things that add up in a big way.”
 

Keep up your normal routine

“Right now, it’s really critical for clinicians to keep up components of their routine that feel ‘normal,’ ” Dr. Rudolph said. “Whether it’s exercise, playing board games with their kids, or spending time on a hobby, it’s critical to allow yourself these comfortable, predictable, and rewarding detours.”

Set limits

People under stress tend to find unhealthy ways to cope. Instead, try being intentional about what you are consuming by putting limits on things like your news, alcohol consumption, and the number of hours you work, said Dr. Harry.

Implement a culture of wellness

Dr. Barrett believes in creating the work culture we want to be in, one that ensures people have psychological safety, allows them to ask for help, encourages them to disconnect completely from work, and makes them feel valued and listened to. She likes the example of “the pause,” which is called by a team member right after a patient expires.

“It’s a 30-second moment of silence where we reflect on the patient, their loved ones, and every member of the health care team who helped support and treat them,” said Dr. Barrett. “At the conclusion, you say: ‘Thank you. Is there anything you need to be able to go back to the care of other patients?’ Because it’s unnatural to have this terrible thing that happened and then just act like nothing happened.”
 

Target resources

Be proactive and know where to find resources before you need them, advised Dr. Harry. “Most institutions have free mental health resources, either through their employee assistance programs or HR, plus there’s lots of national organizations that are offering free resources to health care providers.”

Focus on what you can control

Separating what is under your control from what is not is a struggle for everyone, Dr. Poorman said, but it’s helpful to think about the ways you can have an impact and what you’re able to control.

“There was a woman who was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s that I heard giving an interview at the beginning of this pandemic,” she said. “It was the most helpful advice I got, which was: ‘Think of the next good thing you can do.’ You can’t fix everything, so what’s the next good thing you can do?”
 

Maintain connectivity

Make sure you are utilizing your support circle and staying connected. “That sense of connection is incredibly protective on multiple fronts for depression, for burnout, for suicide ideation, etc.,” Dr. Harry said.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s your teammates at work, your family at home, your best friend from medical school – whomever you can debrief with, vent with, and just share your thoughts and feelings with, these outlets are critical for all of us to process our emotions and diffuse stress and anxiety,” said Dr. Rudolph.

Dr. Poorman is concerned that there could be a spike in physician suicides caused by increased stress, so she also encourages talking openly about what is going on and about getting help when it’s necessary. “Many of us are afraid to seek care because we can actually have our ability to practice medicine questioned, but now is not the time for heroes. Now is the time for people who are willing to recognize their own strengths and limitations to take care of one another.”
 

Be compassionate toward others

Keep in mind that everyone is stressed out and offer empathy and compassion. “I think everybody’s struggling to try to figure this out and the more that we can give each other the benefit of the doubt and a little grace, the more protective that is,” said Dr. Harry.

Listening is meaningful too. “Recognizing opportunities to validate and acknowledge the feelings that are being shared with you by your colleagues is critical,” Dr. Rudolph said. “We all need to know that we’re not alone, that our thoughts and feelings are okay, and when we share a difficult story, the value of someone saying something as simple as, ‘wow, that sounds like it was really hard,’ is immense.”
 

Be compassionate toward yourself

Try to give yourself a break and be as compassionate with yourself as you would with others. It’s okay that you’re not getting in shape, publishing prolifically, or redesigning your house right now.

“There’s a lot of data linking lack of self-compassion to burnout,” said Dr. Harry. She says there are courses on self-compassion available that help you work on being kinder to yourself.
 

Get a “battle buddy”

The American Medical Association has a free “buddy system” program called PeerRx to help physicians cope during the pandemic. Dr. Rudolph said that now is a great time to use this military-developed intervention in which each team member checks in with a chosen partner at agreed-upon intervals.

For example, “You can tell that person: ‘If I don’t call my family for a week that’s a red flag for me.’ And then you hold each other accountable to those things,” Dr. Harry said.

The buddy system is another way to harness that sense of connection that is so vital to our health and well-being.

“The simple act of showing that you care … can make all the difference when you’re doing this kind of work that is both challenging and dangerous,” said Dr. Rudolph.

The global COVID-19 pandemic has escalated everyone’s stress levels, especially clinicians caring for hospitalized patients. New pressures have added to everyday stress, new studies have revised prior patient care recommendations, and the world generally seems upside down. What can a busy hospitalist do to maintain a modicum of sanity in all the craziness?

The stressors facing hospitalists

Uncertainty

Of all the burdens COVID-19 has unleashed, the biggest may be uncertainty. Not only is there unease about the virus itself, there also is legitimate concern about the future of medicine, said Elizabeth Harry, MD, SFHM, a hospitalist and senior director of clinical affairs at the University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora.

“What does it look like after an event like this, particularly in areas like academic medicine and teaching our next generation and getting funding for research? And how do we continue to produce physicians that can provide excellent care?” she asked.

There is also uncertainty in the best way to care for patients, said Eileen Barrett, MD, MPH, SFHM, a hospitalist at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque.

“There are some models that are emerging to predict who will have a worse outcome, but they’re still not great models, so we have uncertainty for a given patient.” And, she noted, as the science continues to evolve, there exists a constant worry that “you might have inadvertently caused someone harm.”

The financial implications of the pandemic are creating uncertainty too. “When you fund a health care system with elective procedures and you can’t do those, and instead have to shift to the most essential services, a lot of places are seeing a massive deficit, which is going to affect staff morale and some physician offices are going to close,” said Elisabeth Poorman, MD, MPH, a primary care and internal medicine physician and chair of the King County Medical Society Physician Wellness Committee in Seattle.
 

Fear

When the pandemic began in the United States, “fear of the unknown was perhaps the scariest part, particularly as it pertained to personal protective equipment,” said Mark Rudolph, MD, SFHM, chief experience officer and vice president of patient experience and physician development at Sound Physicians in Tacoma, Wash. “For most clinicians, this is the first time that they are themselves in harm’s way while they do their jobs. And worse, they risk bringing the virus home to their families. That is the concern I hear most.”

Anxiety

Worrying about being able to provide excellent patient care is a big stressor, especially since this is the heart and soul of why most hospitalists have gone into their line of work.

“Part of providing excellent care to your patients is providing excellent supportive care to their families,” Dr. Harry said. “There’s some dissonance there in not being able to allow the family to come visit, but wanting to keep them safe, and it feels really hard to support your patients and support their families in the best way. It can feel like you’re just watching and waiting to see what will happen, and that we don’t have a lot of agency over which direction things take.”

There is concern for health care team members as well, Dr. Harry added. “Physicians care a lot about their teams and how they’re doing. I think there’s a sense of esprit de corps among folks and worry for each other there.”
 

Guilt

Although you may be at the hospital all day, you may feel guilty when you are not providing direct patient care. Or maybe you or someone on your team has an immunodeficiency and can’t be on the front line. Perhaps one of your team members contracted COVID-19 and you did not. Whatever the case, guilt is another emotion that is rampant among hospitalists right now, Dr. Barrett said.

Burnout

Unfortunately, burnout is a potential reality in times of high stress. “Burnout is dynamic,” said Dr. Poorman. “It’s a process by which your emotional and cognitive reserves are exhausted. The people with the highest burnout are the ones who are still trying to provide the standard of care, or above the standard of care in dysfunctional systems.”

Dr. Harry noted that burnout presents in different ways for different people, but Dr. Rudolph added that it’s crucial for hospitalist team members to watch for signs of burnout so they can intervene and/or get help for their colleagues.

Warning signs in yourself or others that burnout could be on the horizon include:

• Fatigue/exhaustion – Whether emotional or physical (or both), this can become a problem if it “just doesn’t seem to go away despite rest and time away from work,” said Dr. Rudolph.
• Behavioral changes – Any behavior that’s out of the ordinary may be a red flag, like lashing out at someone at work.
• Overwork – Working too much can be caused by an inability to let go of patient care, Dr. Barrett said.
• Not working enough – This may include avoiding tasks and having difficulty meeting deadlines.
• Maladaptive coping behaviors – Excessive consumption of alcohol or drugs is a common coping mechanism. “Even excessive consumption of news is something that people are using to numb out a little bit,” said Dr. Harry.
• Depersonalization – “This is where you start to look at patients, colleagues, or administrators as ‘them’ and you can’t connect as deeply,” Dr. Harry said. “Part of that’s protective and a normal thing to do during a big trauma like this, but it’s also incredibly distancing. Any language that people start using that feels like ‘us’ or ‘them’ is a warning sign.”
• Disengagement – Many people disengage from their work, but Dr. Poorman said physicians tend to disengage from other parts of their lives, such as exercise and family interaction.

Protecting yourself while supporting others

Like the illustration of putting the oxygen mask on yourself first so you can help others, it’s important to protect your own mental and physical health as you support your fellow physicians. Here’s what the experts suggest.

Focus on basic needs

“When you’re in the midst of a trauma, which we are, you don’t want to open all of that up and go to the depths of your thoughts about the grief of all of it because it can actually make the trauma worse,” said Dr. Harry. “There’s a lot of literature that debriefing is really helpful after the event, but if you do it during the event, it can be really dangerous.”

Instead, she said, the goal should be focusing on your basic needs and what you need to do to get through each day, like keeping you and your family in good health. “What is your purpose? Staying connected to why you do this and staying focused on the present is really important,” Dr. Harry noted.

Do your best to get a good night’s sleep, exercise as much as you can, talk to others, and see a mental health provider if your anxiety is too high, advises Dr. Barrett. “Even avoiding blue light from phones and screens within 2 hours of bedtime, parking further away from the hospital and walking, and taking the stairs are things that add up in a big way.”
 

Keep up your normal routine

“Right now, it’s really critical for clinicians to keep up components of their routine that feel ‘normal,’ ” Dr. Rudolph said. “Whether it’s exercise, playing board games with their kids, or spending time on a hobby, it’s critical to allow yourself these comfortable, predictable, and rewarding detours.”

Set limits

People under stress tend to find unhealthy ways to cope. Instead, try being intentional about what you are consuming by putting limits on things like your news, alcohol consumption, and the number of hours you work, said Dr. Harry.

Implement a culture of wellness

Dr. Barrett believes in creating the work culture we want to be in, one that ensures people have psychological safety, allows them to ask for help, encourages them to disconnect completely from work, and makes them feel valued and listened to. She likes the example of “the pause,” which is called by a team member right after a patient expires.

“It’s a 30-second moment of silence where we reflect on the patient, their loved ones, and every member of the health care team who helped support and treat them,” said Dr. Barrett. “At the conclusion, you say: ‘Thank you. Is there anything you need to be able to go back to the care of other patients?’ Because it’s unnatural to have this terrible thing that happened and then just act like nothing happened.”
 

Target resources

Be proactive and know where to find resources before you need them, advised Dr. Harry. “Most institutions have free mental health resources, either through their employee assistance programs or HR, plus there’s lots of national organizations that are offering free resources to health care providers.”

Focus on what you can control

Separating what is under your control from what is not is a struggle for everyone, Dr. Poorman said, but it’s helpful to think about the ways you can have an impact and what you’re able to control.

“There was a woman who was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s that I heard giving an interview at the beginning of this pandemic,” she said. “It was the most helpful advice I got, which was: ‘Think of the next good thing you can do.’ You can’t fix everything, so what’s the next good thing you can do?”
 

Maintain connectivity

Make sure you are utilizing your support circle and staying connected. “That sense of connection is incredibly protective on multiple fronts for depression, for burnout, for suicide ideation, etc.,” Dr. Harry said.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s your teammates at work, your family at home, your best friend from medical school – whomever you can debrief with, vent with, and just share your thoughts and feelings with, these outlets are critical for all of us to process our emotions and diffuse stress and anxiety,” said Dr. Rudolph.

Dr. Poorman is concerned that there could be a spike in physician suicides caused by increased stress, so she also encourages talking openly about what is going on and about getting help when it’s necessary. “Many of us are afraid to seek care because we can actually have our ability to practice medicine questioned, but now is not the time for heroes. Now is the time for people who are willing to recognize their own strengths and limitations to take care of one another.”
 

Be compassionate toward others

Keep in mind that everyone is stressed out and offer empathy and compassion. “I think everybody’s struggling to try to figure this out and the more that we can give each other the benefit of the doubt and a little grace, the more protective that is,” said Dr. Harry.

Listening is meaningful too. “Recognizing opportunities to validate and acknowledge the feelings that are being shared with you by your colleagues is critical,” Dr. Rudolph said. “We all need to know that we’re not alone, that our thoughts and feelings are okay, and when we share a difficult story, the value of someone saying something as simple as, ‘wow, that sounds like it was really hard,’ is immense.”
 

Be compassionate toward yourself

Try to give yourself a break and be as compassionate with yourself as you would with others. It’s okay that you’re not getting in shape, publishing prolifically, or redesigning your house right now.

“There’s a lot of data linking lack of self-compassion to burnout,” said Dr. Harry. She says there are courses on self-compassion available that help you work on being kinder to yourself.
 

Get a “battle buddy”

The American Medical Association has a free “buddy system” program called PeerRx to help physicians cope during the pandemic. Dr. Rudolph said that now is a great time to use this military-developed intervention in which each team member checks in with a chosen partner at agreed-upon intervals.

For example, “You can tell that person: ‘If I don’t call my family for a week that’s a red flag for me.’ And then you hold each other accountable to those things,” Dr. Harry said.

The buddy system is another way to harness that sense of connection that is so vital to our health and well-being.

“The simple act of showing that you care … can make all the difference when you’re doing this kind of work that is both challenging and dangerous,” said Dr. Rudolph.

The global COVID-19 pandemic has escalated everyone’s stress levels, especially clinicians caring for hospitalized patients. New pressures have added to everyday stress, new studies have revised prior patient care recommendations, and the world generally seems upside down. What can a busy hospitalist do to maintain a modicum of sanity in all the craziness?

The stressors facing hospitalists

Uncertainty

Of all the burdens COVID-19 has unleashed, the biggest may be uncertainty. Not only is there unease about the virus itself, there also is legitimate concern about the future of medicine, said Elizabeth Harry, MD, SFHM, a hospitalist and senior director of clinical affairs at the University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora.

“What does it look like after an event like this, particularly in areas like academic medicine and teaching our next generation and getting funding for research? And how do we continue to produce physicians that can provide excellent care?” she asked.

There is also uncertainty in the best way to care for patients, said Eileen Barrett, MD, MPH, SFHM, a hospitalist at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque.

“There are some models that are emerging to predict who will have a worse outcome, but they’re still not great models, so we have uncertainty for a given patient.” And, she noted, as the science continues to evolve, there exists a constant worry that “you might have inadvertently caused someone harm.”

The financial implications of the pandemic are creating uncertainty too. “When you fund a health care system with elective procedures and you can’t do those, and instead have to shift to the most essential services, a lot of places are seeing a massive deficit, which is going to affect staff morale and some physician offices are going to close,” said Elisabeth Poorman, MD, MPH, a primary care and internal medicine physician and chair of the King County Medical Society Physician Wellness Committee in Seattle.
 

Fear

When the pandemic began in the United States, “fear of the unknown was perhaps the scariest part, particularly as it pertained to personal protective equipment,” said Mark Rudolph, MD, SFHM, chief experience officer and vice president of patient experience and physician development at Sound Physicians in Tacoma, Wash. “For most clinicians, this is the first time that they are themselves in harm’s way while they do their jobs. And worse, they risk bringing the virus home to their families. That is the concern I hear most.”

Anxiety

Worrying about being able to provide excellent patient care is a big stressor, especially since this is the heart and soul of why most hospitalists have gone into their line of work.

“Part of providing excellent care to your patients is providing excellent supportive care to their families,” Dr. Harry said. “There’s some dissonance there in not being able to allow the family to come visit, but wanting to keep them safe, and it feels really hard to support your patients and support their families in the best way. It can feel like you’re just watching and waiting to see what will happen, and that we don’t have a lot of agency over which direction things take.”

There is concern for health care team members as well, Dr. Harry added. “Physicians care a lot about their teams and how they’re doing. I think there’s a sense of esprit de corps among folks and worry for each other there.”
 

Guilt

Although you may be at the hospital all day, you may feel guilty when you are not providing direct patient care. Or maybe you or someone on your team has an immunodeficiency and can’t be on the front line. Perhaps one of your team members contracted COVID-19 and you did not. Whatever the case, guilt is another emotion that is rampant among hospitalists right now, Dr. Barrett said.

Burnout

Unfortunately, burnout is a potential reality in times of high stress. “Burnout is dynamic,” said Dr. Poorman. “It’s a process by which your emotional and cognitive reserves are exhausted. The people with the highest burnout are the ones who are still trying to provide the standard of care, or above the standard of care in dysfunctional systems.”

Dr. Harry noted that burnout presents in different ways for different people, but Dr. Rudolph added that it’s crucial for hospitalist team members to watch for signs of burnout so they can intervene and/or get help for their colleagues.

Warning signs in yourself or others that burnout could be on the horizon include:

• Fatigue/exhaustion – Whether emotional or physical (or both), this can become a problem if it “just doesn’t seem to go away despite rest and time away from work,” said Dr. Rudolph.
• Behavioral changes – Any behavior that’s out of the ordinary may be a red flag, like lashing out at someone at work.
• Overwork – Working too much can be caused by an inability to let go of patient care, Dr. Barrett said.
• Not working enough – This may include avoiding tasks and having difficulty meeting deadlines.
• Maladaptive coping behaviors – Excessive consumption of alcohol or drugs is a common coping mechanism. “Even excessive consumption of news is something that people are using to numb out a little bit,” said Dr. Harry.
• Depersonalization – “This is where you start to look at patients, colleagues, or administrators as ‘them’ and you can’t connect as deeply,” Dr. Harry said. “Part of that’s protective and a normal thing to do during a big trauma like this, but it’s also incredibly distancing. Any language that people start using that feels like ‘us’ or ‘them’ is a warning sign.”
• Disengagement – Many people disengage from their work, but Dr. Poorman said physicians tend to disengage from other parts of their lives, such as exercise and family interaction.

Protecting yourself while supporting others

Like the illustration of putting the oxygen mask on yourself first so you can help others, it’s important to protect your own mental and physical health as you support your fellow physicians. Here’s what the experts suggest.

Focus on basic needs

“When you’re in the midst of a trauma, which we are, you don’t want to open all of that up and go to the depths of your thoughts about the grief of all of it because it can actually make the trauma worse,” said Dr. Harry. “There’s a lot of literature that debriefing is really helpful after the event, but if you do it during the event, it can be really dangerous.”

Instead, she said, the goal should be focusing on your basic needs and what you need to do to get through each day, like keeping you and your family in good health. “What is your purpose? Staying connected to why you do this and staying focused on the present is really important,” Dr. Harry noted.

Do your best to get a good night’s sleep, exercise as much as you can, talk to others, and see a mental health provider if your anxiety is too high, advises Dr. Barrett. “Even avoiding blue light from phones and screens within 2 hours of bedtime, parking further away from the hospital and walking, and taking the stairs are things that add up in a big way.”
 

Keep up your normal routine

“Right now, it’s really critical for clinicians to keep up components of their routine that feel ‘normal,’ ” Dr. Rudolph said. “Whether it’s exercise, playing board games with their kids, or spending time on a hobby, it’s critical to allow yourself these comfortable, predictable, and rewarding detours.”

Set limits

People under stress tend to find unhealthy ways to cope. Instead, try being intentional about what you are consuming by putting limits on things like your news, alcohol consumption, and the number of hours you work, said Dr. Harry.

Implement a culture of wellness

Dr. Barrett believes in creating the work culture we want to be in, one that ensures people have psychological safety, allows them to ask for help, encourages them to disconnect completely from work, and makes them feel valued and listened to. She likes the example of “the pause,” which is called by a team member right after a patient expires.

“It’s a 30-second moment of silence where we reflect on the patient, their loved ones, and every member of the health care team who helped support and treat them,” said Dr. Barrett. “At the conclusion, you say: ‘Thank you. Is there anything you need to be able to go back to the care of other patients?’ Because it’s unnatural to have this terrible thing that happened and then just act like nothing happened.”
 

Target resources

Be proactive and know where to find resources before you need them, advised Dr. Harry. “Most institutions have free mental health resources, either through their employee assistance programs or HR, plus there’s lots of national organizations that are offering free resources to health care providers.”

Focus on what you can control

Separating what is under your control from what is not is a struggle for everyone, Dr. Poorman said, but it’s helpful to think about the ways you can have an impact and what you’re able to control.

“There was a woman who was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s that I heard giving an interview at the beginning of this pandemic,” she said. “It was the most helpful advice I got, which was: ‘Think of the next good thing you can do.’ You can’t fix everything, so what’s the next good thing you can do?”
 

Maintain connectivity

Make sure you are utilizing your support circle and staying connected. “That sense of connection is incredibly protective on multiple fronts for depression, for burnout, for suicide ideation, etc.,” Dr. Harry said.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s your teammates at work, your family at home, your best friend from medical school – whomever you can debrief with, vent with, and just share your thoughts and feelings with, these outlets are critical for all of us to process our emotions and diffuse stress and anxiety,” said Dr. Rudolph.

Dr. Poorman is concerned that there could be a spike in physician suicides caused by increased stress, so she also encourages talking openly about what is going on and about getting help when it’s necessary. “Many of us are afraid to seek care because we can actually have our ability to practice medicine questioned, but now is not the time for heroes. Now is the time for people who are willing to recognize their own strengths and limitations to take care of one another.”
 

Be compassionate toward others

Keep in mind that everyone is stressed out and offer empathy and compassion. “I think everybody’s struggling to try to figure this out and the more that we can give each other the benefit of the doubt and a little grace, the more protective that is,” said Dr. Harry.

Listening is meaningful too. “Recognizing opportunities to validate and acknowledge the feelings that are being shared with you by your colleagues is critical,” Dr. Rudolph said. “We all need to know that we’re not alone, that our thoughts and feelings are okay, and when we share a difficult story, the value of someone saying something as simple as, ‘wow, that sounds like it was really hard,’ is immense.”
 

Be compassionate toward yourself

Try to give yourself a break and be as compassionate with yourself as you would with others. It’s okay that you’re not getting in shape, publishing prolifically, or redesigning your house right now.

“There’s a lot of data linking lack of self-compassion to burnout,” said Dr. Harry. She says there are courses on self-compassion available that help you work on being kinder to yourself.
 

Get a “battle buddy”

The American Medical Association has a free “buddy system” program called PeerRx to help physicians cope during the pandemic. Dr. Rudolph said that now is a great time to use this military-developed intervention in which each team member checks in with a chosen partner at agreed-upon intervals.

For example, “You can tell that person: ‘If I don’t call my family for a week that’s a red flag for me.’ And then you hold each other accountable to those things,” Dr. Harry said.

The buddy system is another way to harness that sense of connection that is so vital to our health and well-being.

“The simple act of showing that you care … can make all the difference when you’re doing this kind of work that is both challenging and dangerous,” said Dr. Rudolph.

Can we help our pediatric patients with the complicated problems of racism, especially if we are privileged (and even white) professionals? We may not have experienced discrimination, but we can still advise and address it. Racist discrimination, fear, trauma, or distress may produce or exacerbate conditions we are treating. I have found it often revealing to ask: “Have you, your child, or your family had an experience with racism that may be contributing to today’s concern?”

Tverdokhlib/Shutterstock

Three levels of racism impact children’s health and health care: “structural or institutional” policies that influence social determinants of health; “personally mediated” differential treatment based on assumptions about one’s abilities, motives, or intents; and the resulting “internalization” of stereotypes into one’s identity, undermining confidence, self-esteem, and mental health. We can help advocate about structural racism and ensure equity within our offices, but how best to counsel the families and children themselves?

Racism includes actions of “assigning value based on the social interpretation of how a person looks” (Ethn Dis. 2008;18[4]:496-504). “Social interpretations” develop from an early age. Newborns detect differences in appearance and may startle or cry seeing a parent’s drastic haircut or new hat. Parents generally know to use soothing words and tone, bring the difference into view gradually, smile and comfort the child, and explain the change; these are good skills for later, too. Infants notice skin color, which, unlike clothes, is a stable feature by which to recognize parents. Social interpretation of these differences is cued from the parents’ feelings and reactions. Adults naturally transmit biases from their own past unless they work to dampen them. If the parent was taught to regard “other” as negative or is generally fearful, the child mirrors this. Working to reduce racism thus requires parents (and professionals) to examine their prejudices to be able to convey positive or neutral reactions to people who are different. Parents need to show curiosity, positive affect, and comfort about people who are different, and do well to seek contact and friendships with people from other groups and include their children in these relationships. We can encourage this outreach plus ensure diversity and respectful interactions in our offices.

Children from age 3 years value fairness and are upset seeing others treated unfairly – easily understanding “not fair” or “mean.” If the person being hurt is like them in race, ethnicity, religion, gender, or sexual preference, they also fear for themselves, family, and friends. Balance is needed in discussing racism to avoid increasing fear or overpromising as risks are real and solutions difficult. Children look to adults for understanding and evidence of action to feel safer, rather than helpless. We should state that leaders are working on “making the rules more fair,” ensuring that people “won’t be allowed do it again,” and “teaching that everyone deserves respect.” Even better, parents and children can generate ideas about child actions, giving them some power as an antidote to anxiety. Age-related possibilities might include drawing a picture of people getting along, talking at show-and-tell, writing a note to officials, making a protest sign, posting thoughts on Facebook, or protesting.

With age, the culture increasingly influences a child’s attitudes. Children see lots of teasing and bullying based on differences from being overweight or wearing glasses, to skin color. It is helpful to interpret for children that bullies are insecure, or sometimes have been hurt, and they put other people down to feel better than someone else. Thinking about racist acts this way may reduce the desire for revenge and a cycle of aggression. Effective anti-bullying programs help children recognize bullying, see it as an emergency that requires their action, tell adults, and take action. This action could be surrounding the bully, standing tall, making eye contact, having a dismissive retort, or asking questions that require the bully to think, such as “What do you want to happen by doing this?” We can coach our patients and their parents on these principles as well as advising schools.

Children need to be told that those being put down or held down – especially those like them – have strengths; have made discoveries; have produced writings, art, and music; have shown military bravery, moral leadership, and resistance to discrimination, but it is not the time to show strength when confronted by a gun or police. We can use and arm parents with examples to discuss strengths and accomplishments to help buffer the child from internalization of racist stereotypes. Children need positive role models who look like them; parents can seek out diverse professionals in their children’s lives, such as dentists, doctors, teachers, clergy, mentors, or coaches. We, and parents, can ensure that dolls and books are available, and that the children’s shows, movies, and video games are watched together and include diverse people doing good or brave things. These exposures also are key to all children becoming anti-racist.

Parents can be advised to initiate discussion of racism because children, detecting adult discomfort, may avoid the topic. We can encourage families to give their point of view; otherwise children simply absorb those of peers or the press. Parents should tell their children, “I want you to be able to talk about it if someone is mean or treats you unfairly because of [the color of your skin, your religion, your sex, your disability, etc.]. You might feel helpless, or angry, which is natural. We need to talk about this so you can feel strong. Then we can plan on what we are going to do.” The “sandwich” method of “ask-give information-ask what they think” can encourage discussion and correct misperceptions.

Racist policies have succeeded partly by adult “bullies” dehumanizing the “other.” Most children can consider someone else’s point of view by 4½ years old, shaped with adult help. Parents can begin by telling babies, “That hurts, doesn’t it?” asking toddlers and older, “How would you feel if ... [someone called you a name just because of having red hair]?” or “How do you think she feels when ... [someone pushes her out of line because she wears certain clothes]?” in cases of grabbing, not sharing, hitting, bullying, etc. Older children and teens can analyze more abstract situations when asked, “What if you were the one who ... [got expelled for mumbling about the teacher]?” or “What if that were your sister?” or “How would the world be if everyone ... [got a chance to go to college]?” We can encourage parents to propose these mental exercises to build the child’s perspective-taking while conveying their opinions.

Experiences, including through media, may increase or decrease fear; the child needs to have a supportive person moderating the exposure, providing a positive interpretation, and protecting the child from overwhelm, if needed.

Experiences are insufficient for developing anti-racist attitudes; listening and talking are needed. The first step is to ask children about what they notice, think, and feel about situations reflecting racism, especially as they lack words for these complicated observations. There are television, Internet, and newspaper examples of both racism and anti-racism that can be fruitfully discussed. We can recommend watching or reading together, and asking questions such as, “Why do you think they are shouting [protesting]?” “How do you think the [victim, police] felt?” or “What do you think should be done about this?”

It is important to acknowledge the child’s confusion, fear, anxiety, sadness, or anger as normal and appropriate, not dismissing, too quickly reassuring, or changing the subject, even though it’s uncomfortable.

Physicians and nurse practitioners can make a difference by being aware of our privilege and biases, being open, modeling discussion, screening for impact, offering strategies, advocating with schools, and providing resources such as therapy or legal counsel, as for other social determinants of health.
 

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

Can we help our pediatric patients with the complicated problems of racism, especially if we are privileged (and even white) professionals? We may not have experienced discrimination, but we can still advise and address it. Racist discrimination, fear, trauma, or distress may produce or exacerbate conditions we are treating. I have found it often revealing to ask: “Have you, your child, or your family had an experience with racism that may be contributing to today’s concern?”

Tverdokhlib/Shutterstock

Three levels of racism impact children’s health and health care: “structural or institutional” policies that influence social determinants of health; “personally mediated” differential treatment based on assumptions about one’s abilities, motives, or intents; and the resulting “internalization” of stereotypes into one’s identity, undermining confidence, self-esteem, and mental health. We can help advocate about structural racism and ensure equity within our offices, but how best to counsel the families and children themselves?

Racism includes actions of “assigning value based on the social interpretation of how a person looks” (Ethn Dis. 2008;18[4]:496-504). “Social interpretations” develop from an early age. Newborns detect differences in appearance and may startle or cry seeing a parent’s drastic haircut or new hat. Parents generally know to use soothing words and tone, bring the difference into view gradually, smile and comfort the child, and explain the change; these are good skills for later, too. Infants notice skin color, which, unlike clothes, is a stable feature by which to recognize parents. Social interpretation of these differences is cued from the parents’ feelings and reactions. Adults naturally transmit biases from their own past unless they work to dampen them. If the parent was taught to regard “other” as negative or is generally fearful, the child mirrors this. Working to reduce racism thus requires parents (and professionals) to examine their prejudices to be able to convey positive or neutral reactions to people who are different. Parents need to show curiosity, positive affect, and comfort about people who are different, and do well to seek contact and friendships with people from other groups and include their children in these relationships. We can encourage this outreach plus ensure diversity and respectful interactions in our offices.

Children from age 3 years value fairness and are upset seeing others treated unfairly – easily understanding “not fair” or “mean.” If the person being hurt is like them in race, ethnicity, religion, gender, or sexual preference, they also fear for themselves, family, and friends. Balance is needed in discussing racism to avoid increasing fear or overpromising as risks are real and solutions difficult. Children look to adults for understanding and evidence of action to feel safer, rather than helpless. We should state that leaders are working on “making the rules more fair,” ensuring that people “won’t be allowed do it again,” and “teaching that everyone deserves respect.” Even better, parents and children can generate ideas about child actions, giving them some power as an antidote to anxiety. Age-related possibilities might include drawing a picture of people getting along, talking at show-and-tell, writing a note to officials, making a protest sign, posting thoughts on Facebook, or protesting.

With age, the culture increasingly influences a child’s attitudes. Children see lots of teasing and bullying based on differences from being overweight or wearing glasses, to skin color. It is helpful to interpret for children that bullies are insecure, or sometimes have been hurt, and they put other people down to feel better than someone else. Thinking about racist acts this way may reduce the desire for revenge and a cycle of aggression. Effective anti-bullying programs help children recognize bullying, see it as an emergency that requires their action, tell adults, and take action. This action could be surrounding the bully, standing tall, making eye contact, having a dismissive retort, or asking questions that require the bully to think, such as “What do you want to happen by doing this?” We can coach our patients and their parents on these principles as well as advising schools.

Children need to be told that those being put down or held down – especially those like them – have strengths; have made discoveries; have produced writings, art, and music; have shown military bravery, moral leadership, and resistance to discrimination, but it is not the time to show strength when confronted by a gun or police. We can use and arm parents with examples to discuss strengths and accomplishments to help buffer the child from internalization of racist stereotypes. Children need positive role models who look like them; parents can seek out diverse professionals in their children’s lives, such as dentists, doctors, teachers, clergy, mentors, or coaches. We, and parents, can ensure that dolls and books are available, and that the children’s shows, movies, and video games are watched together and include diverse people doing good or brave things. These exposures also are key to all children becoming anti-racist.

Parents can be advised to initiate discussion of racism because children, detecting adult discomfort, may avoid the topic. We can encourage families to give their point of view; otherwise children simply absorb those of peers or the press. Parents should tell their children, “I want you to be able to talk about it if someone is mean or treats you unfairly because of [the color of your skin, your religion, your sex, your disability, etc.]. You might feel helpless, or angry, which is natural. We need to talk about this so you can feel strong. Then we can plan on what we are going to do.” The “sandwich” method of “ask-give information-ask what they think” can encourage discussion and correct misperceptions.

Racist policies have succeeded partly by adult “bullies” dehumanizing the “other.” Most children can consider someone else’s point of view by 4½ years old, shaped with adult help. Parents can begin by telling babies, “That hurts, doesn’t it?” asking toddlers and older, “How would you feel if ... [someone called you a name just because of having red hair]?” or “How do you think she feels when ... [someone pushes her out of line because she wears certain clothes]?” in cases of grabbing, not sharing, hitting, bullying, etc. Older children and teens can analyze more abstract situations when asked, “What if you were the one who ... [got expelled for mumbling about the teacher]?” or “What if that were your sister?” or “How would the world be if everyone ... [got a chance to go to college]?” We can encourage parents to propose these mental exercises to build the child’s perspective-taking while conveying their opinions.

Experiences, including through media, may increase or decrease fear; the child needs to have a supportive person moderating the exposure, providing a positive interpretation, and protecting the child from overwhelm, if needed.

Experiences are insufficient for developing anti-racist attitudes; listening and talking are needed. The first step is to ask children about what they notice, think, and feel about situations reflecting racism, especially as they lack words for these complicated observations. There are television, Internet, and newspaper examples of both racism and anti-racism that can be fruitfully discussed. We can recommend watching or reading together, and asking questions such as, “Why do you think they are shouting [protesting]?” “How do you think the [victim, police] felt?” or “What do you think should be done about this?”

It is important to acknowledge the child’s confusion, fear, anxiety, sadness, or anger as normal and appropriate, not dismissing, too quickly reassuring, or changing the subject, even though it’s uncomfortable.

Physicians and nurse practitioners can make a difference by being aware of our privilege and biases, being open, modeling discussion, screening for impact, offering strategies, advocating with schools, and providing resources such as therapy or legal counsel, as for other social determinants of health.
 

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

Can we help our pediatric patients with the complicated problems of racism, especially if we are privileged (and even white) professionals? We may not have experienced discrimination, but we can still advise and address it. Racist discrimination, fear, trauma, or distress may produce or exacerbate conditions we are treating. I have found it often revealing to ask: “Have you, your child, or your family had an experience with racism that may be contributing to today’s concern?”

Tverdokhlib/Shutterstock

Three levels of racism impact children’s health and health care: “structural or institutional” policies that influence social determinants of health; “personally mediated” differential treatment based on assumptions about one’s abilities, motives, or intents; and the resulting “internalization” of stereotypes into one’s identity, undermining confidence, self-esteem, and mental health. We can help advocate about structural racism and ensure equity within our offices, but how best to counsel the families and children themselves?

Racism includes actions of “assigning value based on the social interpretation of how a person looks” (Ethn Dis. 2008;18[4]:496-504). “Social interpretations” develop from an early age. Newborns detect differences in appearance and may startle or cry seeing a parent’s drastic haircut or new hat. Parents generally know to use soothing words and tone, bring the difference into view gradually, smile and comfort the child, and explain the change; these are good skills for later, too. Infants notice skin color, which, unlike clothes, is a stable feature by which to recognize parents. Social interpretation of these differences is cued from the parents’ feelings and reactions. Adults naturally transmit biases from their own past unless they work to dampen them. If the parent was taught to regard “other” as negative or is generally fearful, the child mirrors this. Working to reduce racism thus requires parents (and professionals) to examine their prejudices to be able to convey positive or neutral reactions to people who are different. Parents need to show curiosity, positive affect, and comfort about people who are different, and do well to seek contact and friendships with people from other groups and include their children in these relationships. We can encourage this outreach plus ensure diversity and respectful interactions in our offices.

Children from age 3 years value fairness and are upset seeing others treated unfairly – easily understanding “not fair” or “mean.” If the person being hurt is like them in race, ethnicity, religion, gender, or sexual preference, they also fear for themselves, family, and friends. Balance is needed in discussing racism to avoid increasing fear or overpromising as risks are real and solutions difficult. Children look to adults for understanding and evidence of action to feel safer, rather than helpless. We should state that leaders are working on “making the rules more fair,” ensuring that people “won’t be allowed do it again,” and “teaching that everyone deserves respect.” Even better, parents and children can generate ideas about child actions, giving them some power as an antidote to anxiety. Age-related possibilities might include drawing a picture of people getting along, talking at show-and-tell, writing a note to officials, making a protest sign, posting thoughts on Facebook, or protesting.

With age, the culture increasingly influences a child’s attitudes. Children see lots of teasing and bullying based on differences from being overweight or wearing glasses, to skin color. It is helpful to interpret for children that bullies are insecure, or sometimes have been hurt, and they put other people down to feel better than someone else. Thinking about racist acts this way may reduce the desire for revenge and a cycle of aggression. Effective anti-bullying programs help children recognize bullying, see it as an emergency that requires their action, tell adults, and take action. This action could be surrounding the bully, standing tall, making eye contact, having a dismissive retort, or asking questions that require the bully to think, such as “What do you want to happen by doing this?” We can coach our patients and their parents on these principles as well as advising schools.

Children need to be told that those being put down or held down – especially those like them – have strengths; have made discoveries; have produced writings, art, and music; have shown military bravery, moral leadership, and resistance to discrimination, but it is not the time to show strength when confronted by a gun or police. We can use and arm parents with examples to discuss strengths and accomplishments to help buffer the child from internalization of racist stereotypes. Children need positive role models who look like them; parents can seek out diverse professionals in their children’s lives, such as dentists, doctors, teachers, clergy, mentors, or coaches. We, and parents, can ensure that dolls and books are available, and that the children’s shows, movies, and video games are watched together and include diverse people doing good or brave things. These exposures also are key to all children becoming anti-racist.

Parents can be advised to initiate discussion of racism because children, detecting adult discomfort, may avoid the topic. We can encourage families to give their point of view; otherwise children simply absorb those of peers or the press. Parents should tell their children, “I want you to be able to talk about it if someone is mean or treats you unfairly because of [the color of your skin, your religion, your sex, your disability, etc.]. You might feel helpless, or angry, which is natural. We need to talk about this so you can feel strong. Then we can plan on what we are going to do.” The “sandwich” method of “ask-give information-ask what they think” can encourage discussion and correct misperceptions.

Racist policies have succeeded partly by adult “bullies” dehumanizing the “other.” Most children can consider someone else’s point of view by 4½ years old, shaped with adult help. Parents can begin by telling babies, “That hurts, doesn’t it?” asking toddlers and older, “How would you feel if ... [someone called you a name just because of having red hair]?” or “How do you think she feels when ... [someone pushes her out of line because she wears certain clothes]?” in cases of grabbing, not sharing, hitting, bullying, etc. Older children and teens can analyze more abstract situations when asked, “What if you were the one who ... [got expelled for mumbling about the teacher]?” or “What if that were your sister?” or “How would the world be if everyone ... [got a chance to go to college]?” We can encourage parents to propose these mental exercises to build the child’s perspective-taking while conveying their opinions.

Experiences, including through media, may increase or decrease fear; the child needs to have a supportive person moderating the exposure, providing a positive interpretation, and protecting the child from overwhelm, if needed.

Experiences are insufficient for developing anti-racist attitudes; listening and talking are needed. The first step is to ask children about what they notice, think, and feel about situations reflecting racism, especially as they lack words for these complicated observations. There are television, Internet, and newspaper examples of both racism and anti-racism that can be fruitfully discussed. We can recommend watching or reading together, and asking questions such as, “Why do you think they are shouting [protesting]?” “How do you think the [victim, police] felt?” or “What do you think should be done about this?”

It is important to acknowledge the child’s confusion, fear, anxiety, sadness, or anger as normal and appropriate, not dismissing, too quickly reassuring, or changing the subject, even though it’s uncomfortable.

Physicians and nurse practitioners can make a difference by being aware of our privilege and biases, being open, modeling discussion, screening for impact, offering strategies, advocating with schools, and providing resources such as therapy or legal counsel, as for other social determinants of health.
 

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