Commentary

This month, I would like to touch on a few COVID-19 topics that have received much publicity, with some messages about them having been confusing.

Let’s start with a case:

A 37-year-old woman is seen in clinic for a 5-day history of cough, fever, chest tightness, and onset of dyspnea on the day of her office visit.

An exam reveals her blood pressure is 100/60 mm Hg, her pulse is 100 beats per minute, her temperature is 38.7° C, her oxygen saturation is 93%, and her respiratory rate is 20 breaths per minute.

Auscultation of the chest revealed bilateral wheezing and rhonchi. A nasopharyngeal swab is sent for COVID-19 and is negative; she also tests negative for influenza.

Her hemoglobin level is 13 g/dL, hematocrit was 39%, platelet count was 155,000 per mcL of blood, and D-dimer level was 8.4 mcg/mL (normal is less than 0.4 mcg/mL.) Her white blood cell count was 6,000 per mcL of blood (neutrophils, 4,900; lymphocytes, 800; basophils, 200). Her chest x-ray showed bilateral lower lobe infiltrates.
 

What do you recommend?

A. Begin azithromycin plus ceftriaxone

B. Begin azithromycin

C. Begin oseltamivir

D. Obtain chest CT

E. Repeat COVID-19 test

With the massive amount of information coming out every day on COVID-19, it is hard to keep up with all of it, and sort out accurate, reviewed studies. We are in a position where we need to take in what we can and assess the best data available.

In the case above, I think choices D or E would make sense. This patient very likely has COVID-19 based on clinical symptoms and lab parameters. The negative COVID-19 test gives us pause, but several studies show that false negative tests are not uncommon.

Long et al. reported on 36 patients who had received both chest CT and real-time reverse transcription polymerase chain reaction (rRT-PCR) for COVID-19.¹ All were eventually diagnosed with COVID-19 pneumonia. The CT scan had a very high sensitivity (35/36) of 97.2%, whereas the rRT-PCR had a lower sensitivity (30/36) of 83%. All six of the patients with a negative COVID-19 test initially were positive on repeat testing (three on the second test, three on the third test).

There are concerns about what the sensitivity of the rRT-PCR tests being run in the United States are. At this point, I think that, when the pretest probability of COVID-19 infection is very high based on local epidemiology and clinical symptoms, a negative COVID rRT-PCR does not eliminate the diagnosis. In many cases, COVID-19 may still be the most likely diagnosis.

Early in the pandemic, the symptoms that were emphasized were fever, cough, and dyspnea. Those were all crucial symptoms for a disease that causes pneumonia. GI symptoms were initially deemphasized. In an early study released from Wuhan, China, only about 5% of COVID-19 patients had nausea or diarrhea.² In a study of 305 patients focused on gastrointestinal symptoms, half of the patients had diarrhea, half had anorexia and 30% had nausea.³ In a small series of nine patients who presented with only GI symptoms, four of these patients never developed fever or pulmonary symptoms.³

On March 14, the French health minister, Olivier Véran, tweeted that “taking anti-inflammatory drugs (ibuprofen, cortisone ...) could be an aggravating factor for the infection. If you have a fever, take paracetamol.” This was picked up by many news services, and soon became standard recommendations, despite no data.

There is reason for concern for NSAIDs, as regular NSAID use has been tied to more complications in patients with respiratory tract infections.⁴ I have never been a proponent of regular NSAID use in patients who are infected, because the likelihood of toxicity is elevated in patients who are volume depleted or under physiologic stress. But at this time, there is no evidence on problems with episodic NSAID use in patients with COVID-19.

Another widely disseminated decree was that patients with COVID-19 should not use ACE inhibitors and angiotensin II receptor blockers (ARBs). COVID-19 binds to their target cells through ACE2, which is expressed by epithelial cells of the lung, intestine and kidney. Patients who are treated with ACE inhibitors and ARBs have been shown to have more ACE2 expression.

In a letter to the editor by Fang et al. published in Lancet Respiratory Medicine, the authors raised the question of whether patients might be better served to be switched from ACE inhibitors and ARBs to calcium-channel blockers for the treatment of hypertension.⁵ A small study by Meng et al. looked at outcomes of patients on these drugs who had COVID-19 infection.⁶ They looked at 417 patients admitted to a hospital in China with COVID-19 infection. A total of 42 patients were on medications for hypertension. Group 1 were patients on ACE inhibitors/ARBs (17 patients) and group 2 were patients on other antihypertensives (25 patients). During hospitalization 12 patients (48%) in group 2 were categorized as having severe disease and 1 patient died. In group 1 (the ACE inhibitor/ARB–treated patients) only four (23%) were categorized as having severe disease, and no patients in this group died.

Vaduganathan et al. published a special report in the New England Journal of Medicine strongly arguing the point that “[u]ntil further data are available, we think that [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] inhibitors should be continued in patients in otherwise stable condition who are at risk for, being evaluated for, or with COVID-19”.⁷ This position is supported by the American Heart Association, the American College of Cardiology, the American College of Physicians, and 11 other medical organizations.
 

Take-home messages

• Testing isn’t perfect – if you have strong suspicion for COVID-19 disease, retest.
• GI symptoms appear to be common, and rarely may be the only symptoms initially.
• NSAIDs are always risky in really sick patients, but data specific to COVID-19 is lacking.
• ACE inhibitors/ARBs should not be avoided in patients with COVID-19.

Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and he serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. He is a member of the editorial advisory board of Internal Medicine News. Dr. Paauw has no conflicts to disclose. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Long C et al. Diagnosis of the Coronavirus disease (COVID-19): rRT-PCR or CT? Eur J Radiol. 2020 Mar 25;126:108961.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Tian Y et al. Review article: Gastrointestinal features in COVID-19 and the possibility of faecal transmission. Aliment Pharmacol Ther. 2020;00:1–9.

4. Voiriot G et al. Risks related to the use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs in community-acquired pneumonia in adult and pediatric patients. J Clin Med. 2019;8:E786.

5. Fang L et al. Are patients with hypertension and diabetes mellitus at increased risk for COVID-19 infection? Lancet Respir Med. 2020 Mar 11. doi:10.1016/S2213-2600(20)30116-8.

6. Meng J et al. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Emerg Microbes Infect. 2020 Dec;9(1):757-60.

7. Vaduganathan M et al. Renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system inhibitors in patients with COVID-19. N Engl J Med. 2020 Mar 30. doi: 10.1056/NEJMsr2005760.

This month, I would like to touch on a few COVID-19 topics that have received much publicity, with some messages about them having been confusing.

Let’s start with a case:

A 37-year-old woman is seen in clinic for a 5-day history of cough, fever, chest tightness, and onset of dyspnea on the day of her office visit.

An exam reveals her blood pressure is 100/60 mm Hg, her pulse is 100 beats per minute, her temperature is 38.7° C, her oxygen saturation is 93%, and her respiratory rate is 20 breaths per minute.

Auscultation of the chest revealed bilateral wheezing and rhonchi. A nasopharyngeal swab is sent for COVID-19 and is negative; she also tests negative for influenza.

Her hemoglobin level is 13 g/dL, hematocrit was 39%, platelet count was 155,000 per mcL of blood, and D-dimer level was 8.4 mcg/mL (normal is less than 0.4 mcg/mL.) Her white blood cell count was 6,000 per mcL of blood (neutrophils, 4,900; lymphocytes, 800; basophils, 200). Her chest x-ray showed bilateral lower lobe infiltrates.
 

What do you recommend?

A. Begin azithromycin plus ceftriaxone

B. Begin azithromycin

C. Begin oseltamivir

D. Obtain chest CT

E. Repeat COVID-19 test

With the massive amount of information coming out every day on COVID-19, it is hard to keep up with all of it, and sort out accurate, reviewed studies. We are in a position where we need to take in what we can and assess the best data available.

In the case above, I think choices D or E would make sense. This patient very likely has COVID-19 based on clinical symptoms and lab parameters. The negative COVID-19 test gives us pause, but several studies show that false negative tests are not uncommon.

Long et al. reported on 36 patients who had received both chest CT and real-time reverse transcription polymerase chain reaction (rRT-PCR) for COVID-19.¹ All were eventually diagnosed with COVID-19 pneumonia. The CT scan had a very high sensitivity (35/36) of 97.2%, whereas the rRT-PCR had a lower sensitivity (30/36) of 83%. All six of the patients with a negative COVID-19 test initially were positive on repeat testing (three on the second test, three on the third test).

There are concerns about what the sensitivity of the rRT-PCR tests being run in the United States are. At this point, I think that, when the pretest probability of COVID-19 infection is very high based on local epidemiology and clinical symptoms, a negative COVID rRT-PCR does not eliminate the diagnosis. In many cases, COVID-19 may still be the most likely diagnosis.

Early in the pandemic, the symptoms that were emphasized were fever, cough, and dyspnea. Those were all crucial symptoms for a disease that causes pneumonia. GI symptoms were initially deemphasized. In an early study released from Wuhan, China, only about 5% of COVID-19 patients had nausea or diarrhea.² In a study of 305 patients focused on gastrointestinal symptoms, half of the patients had diarrhea, half had anorexia and 30% had nausea.³ In a small series of nine patients who presented with only GI symptoms, four of these patients never developed fever or pulmonary symptoms.³

On March 14, the French health minister, Olivier Véran, tweeted that “taking anti-inflammatory drugs (ibuprofen, cortisone ...) could be an aggravating factor for the infection. If you have a fever, take paracetamol.” This was picked up by many news services, and soon became standard recommendations, despite no data.

There is reason for concern for NSAIDs, as regular NSAID use has been tied to more complications in patients with respiratory tract infections.⁴ I have never been a proponent of regular NSAID use in patients who are infected, because the likelihood of toxicity is elevated in patients who are volume depleted or under physiologic stress. But at this time, there is no evidence on problems with episodic NSAID use in patients with COVID-19.

Another widely disseminated decree was that patients with COVID-19 should not use ACE inhibitors and angiotensin II receptor blockers (ARBs). COVID-19 binds to their target cells through ACE2, which is expressed by epithelial cells of the lung, intestine and kidney. Patients who are treated with ACE inhibitors and ARBs have been shown to have more ACE2 expression.

In a letter to the editor by Fang et al. published in Lancet Respiratory Medicine, the authors raised the question of whether patients might be better served to be switched from ACE inhibitors and ARBs to calcium-channel blockers for the treatment of hypertension.⁵ A small study by Meng et al. looked at outcomes of patients on these drugs who had COVID-19 infection.⁶ They looked at 417 patients admitted to a hospital in China with COVID-19 infection. A total of 42 patients were on medications for hypertension. Group 1 were patients on ACE inhibitors/ARBs (17 patients) and group 2 were patients on other antihypertensives (25 patients). During hospitalization 12 patients (48%) in group 2 were categorized as having severe disease and 1 patient died. In group 1 (the ACE inhibitor/ARB–treated patients) only four (23%) were categorized as having severe disease, and no patients in this group died.

Vaduganathan et al. published a special report in the New England Journal of Medicine strongly arguing the point that “[u]ntil further data are available, we think that [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] inhibitors should be continued in patients in otherwise stable condition who are at risk for, being evaluated for, or with COVID-19”.⁷ This position is supported by the American Heart Association, the American College of Cardiology, the American College of Physicians, and 11 other medical organizations.
 

Take-home messages

• Testing isn’t perfect – if you have strong suspicion for COVID-19 disease, retest.
• GI symptoms appear to be common, and rarely may be the only symptoms initially.
• NSAIDs are always risky in really sick patients, but data specific to COVID-19 is lacking.
• ACE inhibitors/ARBs should not be avoided in patients with COVID-19.

Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and he serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. He is a member of the editorial advisory board of Internal Medicine News. Dr. Paauw has no conflicts to disclose. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Long C et al. Diagnosis of the Coronavirus disease (COVID-19): rRT-PCR or CT? Eur J Radiol. 2020 Mar 25;126:108961.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Tian Y et al. Review article: Gastrointestinal features in COVID-19 and the possibility of faecal transmission. Aliment Pharmacol Ther. 2020;00:1–9.

4. Voiriot G et al. Risks related to the use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs in community-acquired pneumonia in adult and pediatric patients. J Clin Med. 2019;8:E786.

5. Fang L et al. Are patients with hypertension and diabetes mellitus at increased risk for COVID-19 infection? Lancet Respir Med. 2020 Mar 11. doi:10.1016/S2213-2600(20)30116-8.

6. Meng J et al. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Emerg Microbes Infect. 2020 Dec;9(1):757-60.

7. Vaduganathan M et al. Renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system inhibitors in patients with COVID-19. N Engl J Med. 2020 Mar 30. doi: 10.1056/NEJMsr2005760.

This month, I would like to touch on a few COVID-19 topics that have received much publicity, with some messages about them having been confusing.

Let’s start with a case:

A 37-year-old woman is seen in clinic for a 5-day history of cough, fever, chest tightness, and onset of dyspnea on the day of her office visit.

An exam reveals her blood pressure is 100/60 mm Hg, her pulse is 100 beats per minute, her temperature is 38.7° C, her oxygen saturation is 93%, and her respiratory rate is 20 breaths per minute.

Auscultation of the chest revealed bilateral wheezing and rhonchi. A nasopharyngeal swab is sent for COVID-19 and is negative; she also tests negative for influenza.

Her hemoglobin level is 13 g/dL, hematocrit was 39%, platelet count was 155,000 per mcL of blood, and D-dimer level was 8.4 mcg/mL (normal is less than 0.4 mcg/mL.) Her white blood cell count was 6,000 per mcL of blood (neutrophils, 4,900; lymphocytes, 800; basophils, 200). Her chest x-ray showed bilateral lower lobe infiltrates.
 

What do you recommend?

A. Begin azithromycin plus ceftriaxone

B. Begin azithromycin

C. Begin oseltamivir

D. Obtain chest CT

E. Repeat COVID-19 test

With the massive amount of information coming out every day on COVID-19, it is hard to keep up with all of it, and sort out accurate, reviewed studies. We are in a position where we need to take in what we can and assess the best data available.

In the case above, I think choices D or E would make sense. This patient very likely has COVID-19 based on clinical symptoms and lab parameters. The negative COVID-19 test gives us pause, but several studies show that false negative tests are not uncommon.

Long et al. reported on 36 patients who had received both chest CT and real-time reverse transcription polymerase chain reaction (rRT-PCR) for COVID-19.¹ All were eventually diagnosed with COVID-19 pneumonia. The CT scan had a very high sensitivity (35/36) of 97.2%, whereas the rRT-PCR had a lower sensitivity (30/36) of 83%. All six of the patients with a negative COVID-19 test initially were positive on repeat testing (three on the second test, three on the third test).

There are concerns about what the sensitivity of the rRT-PCR tests being run in the United States are. At this point, I think that, when the pretest probability of COVID-19 infection is very high based on local epidemiology and clinical symptoms, a negative COVID rRT-PCR does not eliminate the diagnosis. In many cases, COVID-19 may still be the most likely diagnosis.

Early in the pandemic, the symptoms that were emphasized were fever, cough, and dyspnea. Those were all crucial symptoms for a disease that causes pneumonia. GI symptoms were initially deemphasized. In an early study released from Wuhan, China, only about 5% of COVID-19 patients had nausea or diarrhea.² In a study of 305 patients focused on gastrointestinal symptoms, half of the patients had diarrhea, half had anorexia and 30% had nausea.³ In a small series of nine patients who presented with only GI symptoms, four of these patients never developed fever or pulmonary symptoms.³

On March 14, the French health minister, Olivier Véran, tweeted that “taking anti-inflammatory drugs (ibuprofen, cortisone ...) could be an aggravating factor for the infection. If you have a fever, take paracetamol.” This was picked up by many news services, and soon became standard recommendations, despite no data.

There is reason for concern for NSAIDs, as regular NSAID use has been tied to more complications in patients with respiratory tract infections.⁴ I have never been a proponent of regular NSAID use in patients who are infected, because the likelihood of toxicity is elevated in patients who are volume depleted or under physiologic stress. But at this time, there is no evidence on problems with episodic NSAID use in patients with COVID-19.

Another widely disseminated decree was that patients with COVID-19 should not use ACE inhibitors and angiotensin II receptor blockers (ARBs). COVID-19 binds to their target cells through ACE2, which is expressed by epithelial cells of the lung, intestine and kidney. Patients who are treated with ACE inhibitors and ARBs have been shown to have more ACE2 expression.

In a letter to the editor by Fang et al. published in Lancet Respiratory Medicine, the authors raised the question of whether patients might be better served to be switched from ACE inhibitors and ARBs to calcium-channel blockers for the treatment of hypertension.⁵ A small study by Meng et al. looked at outcomes of patients on these drugs who had COVID-19 infection.⁶ They looked at 417 patients admitted to a hospital in China with COVID-19 infection. A total of 42 patients were on medications for hypertension. Group 1 were patients on ACE inhibitors/ARBs (17 patients) and group 2 were patients on other antihypertensives (25 patients). During hospitalization 12 patients (48%) in group 2 were categorized as having severe disease and 1 patient died. In group 1 (the ACE inhibitor/ARB–treated patients) only four (23%) were categorized as having severe disease, and no patients in this group died.

Vaduganathan et al. published a special report in the New England Journal of Medicine strongly arguing the point that “[u]ntil further data are available, we think that [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] inhibitors should be continued in patients in otherwise stable condition who are at risk for, being evaluated for, or with COVID-19”.⁷ This position is supported by the American Heart Association, the American College of Cardiology, the American College of Physicians, and 11 other medical organizations.
 

Take-home messages

• Testing isn’t perfect – if you have strong suspicion for COVID-19 disease, retest.
• GI symptoms appear to be common, and rarely may be the only symptoms initially.
• NSAIDs are always risky in really sick patients, but data specific to COVID-19 is lacking.
• ACE inhibitors/ARBs should not be avoided in patients with COVID-19.

Dr. Paauw is professor of medicine in the division of general internal medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, and he serves as third-year medical student clerkship director at the University of Washington. He is a member of the editorial advisory board of Internal Medicine News. Dr. Paauw has no conflicts to disclose. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Long C et al. Diagnosis of the Coronavirus disease (COVID-19): rRT-PCR or CT? Eur J Radiol. 2020 Mar 25;126:108961.

2. Zhou F et al. Clinical course and risk factors for mortality of adult inpatients with COVID-19 in Wuhan, China: A retrospective cohort study. Lancet. 2020 Mar 28;395(10229):1054-62.

3. Tian Y et al. Review article: Gastrointestinal features in COVID-19 and the possibility of faecal transmission. Aliment Pharmacol Ther. 2020;00:1–9.

4. Voiriot G et al. Risks related to the use of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs in community-acquired pneumonia in adult and pediatric patients. J Clin Med. 2019;8:E786.

5. Fang L et al. Are patients with hypertension and diabetes mellitus at increased risk for COVID-19 infection? Lancet Respir Med. 2020 Mar 11. doi:10.1016/S2213-2600(20)30116-8.

6. Meng J et al. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Renin-angiotensin system inhibitors improve the clinical outcomes of COVID-19 patients with hypertension. Emerg Microbes Infect. 2020 Dec;9(1):757-60.

7. Vaduganathan M et al. Renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system inhibitors in patients with COVID-19. N Engl J Med. 2020 Mar 30. doi: 10.1056/NEJMsr2005760.

Coronavirus disease of 2019, more commonly referred to as COVID-19, is caused by a novel coronavirus. At press time in April, its diagnosis had been confirmed in more than 2 million individuals in 185 countries and territories since first isolated in January 2020. Daily updates are provided in terms of the number of new cases, the evolving strategies to mitigate additional spread, testing, potential drug trials, and vaccine development. Risk groups for development of severe disease also have been widely publicized. Limited information has been provided about COVID-19 in children.

Courtesy NIAID-RML

Terminology

Endemic. The condition is present at a stable predictable rate in a community. The number observed is what is expected.

Outbreak. The number of cases is greater than what is expected in the area.

Epidemic. An outbreak that spreads over a larger geographical area.

Pandemic. An outbreak that has spread to multiple countries and /or continents.



What we know about coronaviruses: They are host-specific RNA viruses widespread in bats, but found in many other species including humans. Previously, six species caused disease in humans. Four species: 229E, NL63, OC43, and HKU1 usually cause the common cold. Symptoms are generally self-limited and peak 3-4 days after onset. Infection rarely can be manifested as otitis media or a lower respiratory tract disease.

In February 2003, SARS-CoV, a novel coronavirus, was identified as the causative agent for an outbreak of a severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) which began in Guangdong, China. It became a pandemic that occurred between November 2002 and July 2003. More than 8,000 individuals from 26 countries were infected, and there were 774 deaths, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. No cases have been reported since April 2004. This virus most often infected adults, and the mortality rate was 10%. No pediatric deaths were reported. The virus was considered to have evolved from a bat CoV with civet cats as an intermediate host.

In September 2012, MERS-CoV (Middle East respiratory syndrome), another novel coronavirus also manifesting as a severe respiratory illness, was identified in Saudi Arabia. Current data suggests it evolved from a bat CoV using dromedary camels as an intermediate host. To date, more than 2,400 cases have been reported with a case fatality rate of approximately 35% (Emerg Infect Dis. 2020 Feb; 26[2]:191-8). Disease in children has been mild. Most cases have been identified in adult males with comorbidities and have been reported from Saudi Arabia (85%). To date, no sustained human-to-human transmission has been documented. However, limited nonsustained human-to-human transmission has occurred in health care settings.


 

Preliminary COVID-19 pediatric data

Multiple case reports and studies with limited numbers of patients have been quickly published, but limited data about children have been available. A large study by Wu et al. was released. Epidemiologic data were available for 72,314 cases (62% confirmed 22% suspected,15% diagnosed based on clinical symptoms). Only 965 (1.3%) cases occurred in persons under 19 years of age. There were no deaths reported in anyone younger than 9 years old. The authors indicated that 889 patients (1%) were asymptomatic, but the exact number of children in that group was not provided.¹

Dong Y et al. reported on the epidemiologic characteristics of 2,135 children under 18 years who resided in or near an epidemic center. Data were obtained retrospectively; 34% (728) of the cases were confirmed and 66% (1,407) were suspected. In summary, 94 (4%) of all patients were asymptomatic, 1,088 (51%) had mild symptoms, and 826 (39%) had moderate symptoms at the time of diagnosis. The remaining 6% of patients (125) had severe/critical disease manifested by dyspnea and hypoxemia. Interestingly, more severe/critical cases were in the suspected group. Could another pathogen be the true etiology? Severity of illness was greatest for infants (11%). As of Feb. 8, 2020, only one child had died; he was 14 years old. This study supports the claim that COVID-19 disease in children is less severe than in adults.²

Data in U.S. children are now available. Between Feb. 12, 2020, and April 2, 2020, there were 149,770 cases of laboratory-confirmed COVID-19 reported to the CDC. Age was documented in 149,082 cases and 2, 572 (1.7%) were in persons younger than 18 years. New York had the highest percentage of reported pediatric cases at 33% from New York City, and 23% from the remainder of New York state; an additional 15% were from New Jersey and the remaining 29% of cases were from other areas. The median age was 11 years. Cases by age were 32% in teens aged 15-17 years; 27% in children aged 10-14 years; 15% in children aged 5-9 years; 11% in children aged 1-4 years; and 15% in children aged less than 1 year.

Exposure history was documented in 184 cases, of which 91% were household /community. Information regarding signs and symptoms were limited but not absent. Based on available data, 73% of children had fever, cough, or shortness of breath. When looked at independently, each of these symptoms occurred less frequently than in adults: 56% of children reported fever, 54% reported cough, and 13% reported shortness of breath, compared with 71%, 80%, and 43% of adults, respectively. Also reported less frequently were myalgia, headache, sore throat, and diarrhea.

Hospitalization status was available for 745 children, with 20% being hospitalized and 2% being admitted to the ICU. Children under 1 year accounted for most of the hospitalizations. Limited information about underlying conditions was provided. Among 345 cases, 23% had at least one underlying medical condition; the most common conditions were chronic lung disease including asthma (50%), cardiovascular disease (31%), and immunosuppression (8%). Three deaths were reported in this cohort of 2,135 children; however, the final cause of death is still under review.³

There are limitations to the data. Many of the answers needed to perform adequate analysis regarding symptoms, their duration and severity, risk factors, etc., were not available. Routine testing is not currently recommended, and current practices may influence the outcomes.

What have we learned? The data suggest that most ill children may not have cough, fever, or shortness of breath; symptoms which parents will be looking for prior to even seeking medical attention. These are the individuals who may likely play a continued role with disease transmission. The need for hospitalization and the severity of illness appears to be lower than in adults but not absent. Strategies to mitigate additional spread such as social distancing, wearing facial masks, and hand washing still are important and should be encouraged.
 

Dr. Word is a pediatric infectious disease specialist and director of the Houston Travel Medicine Clinic. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Word at [email protected].

References

1. JAMA. 2020;323(13):1239-42.

2. Pediatrics. 2020:145(6): e20200702.

3. MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020 Apr 10;69:422-6.

Coronavirus disease of 2019, more commonly referred to as COVID-19, is caused by a novel coronavirus. At press time in April, its diagnosis had been confirmed in more than 2 million individuals in 185 countries and territories since first isolated in January 2020. Daily updates are provided in terms of the number of new cases, the evolving strategies to mitigate additional spread, testing, potential drug trials, and vaccine development. Risk groups for development of severe disease also have been widely publicized. Limited information has been provided about COVID-19 in children.

Courtesy NIAID-RML

Terminology

Endemic. The condition is present at a stable predictable rate in a community. The number observed is what is expected.

Outbreak. The number of cases is greater than what is expected in the area.

Epidemic. An outbreak that spreads over a larger geographical area.

Pandemic. An outbreak that has spread to multiple countries and /or continents.



What we know about coronaviruses: They are host-specific RNA viruses widespread in bats, but found in many other species including humans. Previously, six species caused disease in humans. Four species: 229E, NL63, OC43, and HKU1 usually cause the common cold. Symptoms are generally self-limited and peak 3-4 days after onset. Infection rarely can be manifested as otitis media or a lower respiratory tract disease.

In February 2003, SARS-CoV, a novel coronavirus, was identified as the causative agent for an outbreak of a severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) which began in Guangdong, China. It became a pandemic that occurred between November 2002 and July 2003. More than 8,000 individuals from 26 countries were infected, and there were 774 deaths, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. No cases have been reported since April 2004. This virus most often infected adults, and the mortality rate was 10%. No pediatric deaths were reported. The virus was considered to have evolved from a bat CoV with civet cats as an intermediate host.

In September 2012, MERS-CoV (Middle East respiratory syndrome), another novel coronavirus also manifesting as a severe respiratory illness, was identified in Saudi Arabia. Current data suggests it evolved from a bat CoV using dromedary camels as an intermediate host. To date, more than 2,400 cases have been reported with a case fatality rate of approximately 35% (Emerg Infect Dis. 2020 Feb; 26[2]:191-8). Disease in children has been mild. Most cases have been identified in adult males with comorbidities and have been reported from Saudi Arabia (85%). To date, no sustained human-to-human transmission has been documented. However, limited nonsustained human-to-human transmission has occurred in health care settings.


 

Preliminary COVID-19 pediatric data

Multiple case reports and studies with limited numbers of patients have been quickly published, but limited data about children have been available. A large study by Wu et al. was released. Epidemiologic data were available for 72,314 cases (62% confirmed 22% suspected,15% diagnosed based on clinical symptoms). Only 965 (1.3%) cases occurred in persons under 19 years of age. There were no deaths reported in anyone younger than 9 years old. The authors indicated that 889 patients (1%) were asymptomatic, but the exact number of children in that group was not provided.¹

Dong Y et al. reported on the epidemiologic characteristics of 2,135 children under 18 years who resided in or near an epidemic center. Data were obtained retrospectively; 34% (728) of the cases were confirmed and 66% (1,407) were suspected. In summary, 94 (4%) of all patients were asymptomatic, 1,088 (51%) had mild symptoms, and 826 (39%) had moderate symptoms at the time of diagnosis. The remaining 6% of patients (125) had severe/critical disease manifested by dyspnea and hypoxemia. Interestingly, more severe/critical cases were in the suspected group. Could another pathogen be the true etiology? Severity of illness was greatest for infants (11%). As of Feb. 8, 2020, only one child had died; he was 14 years old. This study supports the claim that COVID-19 disease in children is less severe than in adults.²

Data in U.S. children are now available. Between Feb. 12, 2020, and April 2, 2020, there were 149,770 cases of laboratory-confirmed COVID-19 reported to the CDC. Age was documented in 149,082 cases and 2, 572 (1.7%) were in persons younger than 18 years. New York had the highest percentage of reported pediatric cases at 33% from New York City, and 23% from the remainder of New York state; an additional 15% were from New Jersey and the remaining 29% of cases were from other areas. The median age was 11 years. Cases by age were 32% in teens aged 15-17 years; 27% in children aged 10-14 years; 15% in children aged 5-9 years; 11% in children aged 1-4 years; and 15% in children aged less than 1 year.

Exposure history was documented in 184 cases, of which 91% were household /community. Information regarding signs and symptoms were limited but not absent. Based on available data, 73% of children had fever, cough, or shortness of breath. When looked at independently, each of these symptoms occurred less frequently than in adults: 56% of children reported fever, 54% reported cough, and 13% reported shortness of breath, compared with 71%, 80%, and 43% of adults, respectively. Also reported less frequently were myalgia, headache, sore throat, and diarrhea.

Hospitalization status was available for 745 children, with 20% being hospitalized and 2% being admitted to the ICU. Children under 1 year accounted for most of the hospitalizations. Limited information about underlying conditions was provided. Among 345 cases, 23% had at least one underlying medical condition; the most common conditions were chronic lung disease including asthma (50%), cardiovascular disease (31%), and immunosuppression (8%). Three deaths were reported in this cohort of 2,135 children; however, the final cause of death is still under review.³

There are limitations to the data. Many of the answers needed to perform adequate analysis regarding symptoms, their duration and severity, risk factors, etc., were not available. Routine testing is not currently recommended, and current practices may influence the outcomes.

What have we learned? The data suggest that most ill children may not have cough, fever, or shortness of breath; symptoms which parents will be looking for prior to even seeking medical attention. These are the individuals who may likely play a continued role with disease transmission. The need for hospitalization and the severity of illness appears to be lower than in adults but not absent. Strategies to mitigate additional spread such as social distancing, wearing facial masks, and hand washing still are important and should be encouraged.
 

Dr. Word is a pediatric infectious disease specialist and director of the Houston Travel Medicine Clinic. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Word at [email protected].

References

1. JAMA. 2020;323(13):1239-42.

2. Pediatrics. 2020:145(6): e20200702.

3. MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020 Apr 10;69:422-6.

Coronavirus disease of 2019, more commonly referred to as COVID-19, is caused by a novel coronavirus. At press time in April, its diagnosis had been confirmed in more than 2 million individuals in 185 countries and territories since first isolated in January 2020. Daily updates are provided in terms of the number of new cases, the evolving strategies to mitigate additional spread, testing, potential drug trials, and vaccine development. Risk groups for development of severe disease also have been widely publicized. Limited information has been provided about COVID-19 in children.

Courtesy NIAID-RML

Terminology

Endemic. The condition is present at a stable predictable rate in a community. The number observed is what is expected.

Outbreak. The number of cases is greater than what is expected in the area.

Epidemic. An outbreak that spreads over a larger geographical area.

Pandemic. An outbreak that has spread to multiple countries and /or continents.



What we know about coronaviruses: They are host-specific RNA viruses widespread in bats, but found in many other species including humans. Previously, six species caused disease in humans. Four species: 229E, NL63, OC43, and HKU1 usually cause the common cold. Symptoms are generally self-limited and peak 3-4 days after onset. Infection rarely can be manifested as otitis media or a lower respiratory tract disease.

In February 2003, SARS-CoV, a novel coronavirus, was identified as the causative agent for an outbreak of a severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) which began in Guangdong, China. It became a pandemic that occurred between November 2002 and July 2003. More than 8,000 individuals from 26 countries were infected, and there were 774 deaths, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. No cases have been reported since April 2004. This virus most often infected adults, and the mortality rate was 10%. No pediatric deaths were reported. The virus was considered to have evolved from a bat CoV with civet cats as an intermediate host.

In September 2012, MERS-CoV (Middle East respiratory syndrome), another novel coronavirus also manifesting as a severe respiratory illness, was identified in Saudi Arabia. Current data suggests it evolved from a bat CoV using dromedary camels as an intermediate host. To date, more than 2,400 cases have been reported with a case fatality rate of approximately 35% (Emerg Infect Dis. 2020 Feb; 26[2]:191-8). Disease in children has been mild. Most cases have been identified in adult males with comorbidities and have been reported from Saudi Arabia (85%). To date, no sustained human-to-human transmission has been documented. However, limited nonsustained human-to-human transmission has occurred in health care settings.


 

Preliminary COVID-19 pediatric data

Multiple case reports and studies with limited numbers of patients have been quickly published, but limited data about children have been available. A large study by Wu et al. was released. Epidemiologic data were available for 72,314 cases (62% confirmed 22% suspected,15% diagnosed based on clinical symptoms). Only 965 (1.3%) cases occurred in persons under 19 years of age. There were no deaths reported in anyone younger than 9 years old. The authors indicated that 889 patients (1%) were asymptomatic, but the exact number of children in that group was not provided.¹

Dong Y et al. reported on the epidemiologic characteristics of 2,135 children under 18 years who resided in or near an epidemic center. Data were obtained retrospectively; 34% (728) of the cases were confirmed and 66% (1,407) were suspected. In summary, 94 (4%) of all patients were asymptomatic, 1,088 (51%) had mild symptoms, and 826 (39%) had moderate symptoms at the time of diagnosis. The remaining 6% of patients (125) had severe/critical disease manifested by dyspnea and hypoxemia. Interestingly, more severe/critical cases were in the suspected group. Could another pathogen be the true etiology? Severity of illness was greatest for infants (11%). As of Feb. 8, 2020, only one child had died; he was 14 years old. This study supports the claim that COVID-19 disease in children is less severe than in adults.²

Data in U.S. children are now available. Between Feb. 12, 2020, and April 2, 2020, there were 149,770 cases of laboratory-confirmed COVID-19 reported to the CDC. Age was documented in 149,082 cases and 2, 572 (1.7%) were in persons younger than 18 years. New York had the highest percentage of reported pediatric cases at 33% from New York City, and 23% from the remainder of New York state; an additional 15% were from New Jersey and the remaining 29% of cases were from other areas. The median age was 11 years. Cases by age were 32% in teens aged 15-17 years; 27% in children aged 10-14 years; 15% in children aged 5-9 years; 11% in children aged 1-4 years; and 15% in children aged less than 1 year.

Exposure history was documented in 184 cases, of which 91% were household /community. Information regarding signs and symptoms were limited but not absent. Based on available data, 73% of children had fever, cough, or shortness of breath. When looked at independently, each of these symptoms occurred less frequently than in adults: 56% of children reported fever, 54% reported cough, and 13% reported shortness of breath, compared with 71%, 80%, and 43% of adults, respectively. Also reported less frequently were myalgia, headache, sore throat, and diarrhea.

Hospitalization status was available for 745 children, with 20% being hospitalized and 2% being admitted to the ICU. Children under 1 year accounted for most of the hospitalizations. Limited information about underlying conditions was provided. Among 345 cases, 23% had at least one underlying medical condition; the most common conditions were chronic lung disease including asthma (50%), cardiovascular disease (31%), and immunosuppression (8%). Three deaths were reported in this cohort of 2,135 children; however, the final cause of death is still under review.³

There are limitations to the data. Many of the answers needed to perform adequate analysis regarding symptoms, their duration and severity, risk factors, etc., were not available. Routine testing is not currently recommended, and current practices may influence the outcomes.

What have we learned? The data suggest that most ill children may not have cough, fever, or shortness of breath; symptoms which parents will be looking for prior to even seeking medical attention. These are the individuals who may likely play a continued role with disease transmission. The need for hospitalization and the severity of illness appears to be lower than in adults but not absent. Strategies to mitigate additional spread such as social distancing, wearing facial masks, and hand washing still are important and should be encouraged.
 

Dr. Word is a pediatric infectious disease specialist and director of the Houston Travel Medicine Clinic. She has no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Word at [email protected].

References

1. JAMA. 2020;323(13):1239-42.

2. Pediatrics. 2020:145(6): e20200702.

3. MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep. 2020 Apr 10;69:422-6.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

Jails provide ideal conditions for the spread of COVID-19, as made clear by the distressing stories coming out of New York City. Beyond the very substantial risks posed by the virus itself, practitioners tasked with attending to the large proportion of inmates with mental illness now face additional challenges.

Medscape Psychiatry editorial director Bret Stetka, MD, spoke with Elizabeth Ford, MD, former chief of psychiatry for NYC Health + Hospitals/Correctional Health Services and current chief medical officer for the Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), a community organization focused on the needs of people touched by the criminal justice system, to find out how COVID-19 may be reshaping the mental health care of incarcerated patients. As noted by Ford, who authored the 2017 memoir Sometimes Amazing Things Happen: Heartbreak and Hope on the Bellevue Hospital Psychiatric Prison Ward, the unique vulnerabilities of this population were evident well before the coronavirus pandemic’s arrival on our shores.
 

What are the unique health and mental health challenges that can arise in correctional facilities during crises like this, in particular, infectious crises? Or are we still learning this as COVID-19 spreads?

I think it’s important to say that they are still learning it, and I don’t want to speak for them. I left Correctional Health Services on Feb. 14, and we weren’t aware of [all the risks posed by COVID-19] at that point.

I worked in the jail proper for five and a half years. Prior to that I spent a decade at Bellevue Hospital, where I took care of the same patients, who were still incarcerated but also hospitalized. In those years, the closest I ever came to managing something like this was Superstorm Sandy, which obviously had much different health implications.

All of the things that the community is struggling with in terms of the virus also apply in jails and prisons: identifying people who are sick, keeping healthy people from getting sick, preventing sick people from getting worse, separating populations, treatment options, testing options, making sure people follow the appropriate hygiene recommendations. It’s just amplified immensely because these are closed systems that tend to be poorly sanitized, crowded, and frequently forgotten or minimized in public health and political conversations.

A really important distinction is that individuals who are incarcerated do not have control over their behavior in the way that they would in the outside world. They may want to wash their hands frequently and to stay six feet away from everybody, but they can’t because the environment doesn’t allow for that. I know that everyone – correctional officers, health staff, incarcerated individuals, the city – is trying to figure out how to do those things in the jail. The primary challenge is that you don’t have the ability to do the things that you know are right to prevent the spread of the infection.
 

I know you can’t speak to what’s going on at specific jails at the moment, but what sort of psychiatric measures would a jail system put forth in a time like this?

It’s a good question, because like everybody, they’re having to balance the safety of the staff and the patients. Mental health interventions are mostly in person and very time intensive, and social distancing guidelines don’t allow for that now.

I expect that the jails are trying to stratify patients based on severity, both physical and psychological, although increasingly it’s likely harder to separate those who are sick from those who aren’t. In areas where patients are sick, I think the mental health staff are likely doing as much intervention as they can safely, including remote work like telehealth. Telehealth actually got its start in prisons, because they couldn’t get enough providers to come in and do the work in person.
 

I’ve read a lot of the criticism around this, specifically at Rikers Island, where inmates are still closely seated at dining tables, with no possibility of social distancing. [Editor’s note: At the time of this writing, Rikers Island experienced its first inmate death due to COVID-19.] But I see the other side of it. What are jails supposed to do when limited to such a confined space?

That’s correct. I think it is hard for someone who has not lived or worked intensely in these settings to understand how difficult it can be to implement even the most basic hygiene precautions. There are all sorts of efforts happening to create more space, to reduce admissions coming into the jail, to try to expedite discharges out, to offer a lot more sanitation options. I think they may have opened up a jail that was empty to allow for more space.
 

In a recent Medscape commentary, Jeffrey Lieberman, MD, from Columbia University detailed how a crisis like this may affect those in different tiers of mental illness. Interestingly, there are data showing that those with serious mental illness – schizophrenia, severe mania – often aren’t panicked by disasters. I assume that a sizable percentage of the jail population has severe mental illness, so I was curious about what your experience is, about how they may handle it psychologically.

The rate of serious mental illness in jail is roughly 16% or so, which is three or four times higher than the general population.

Although I don’t know if these kinds of crises differentially affect people with serious mental illness, I do believe very strongly that situations like this, for those who are and who are not incarcerated, can exacerbate or cause symptoms like anxiety, depression, and elevated levels of fear – fear about the unknown, fear of illness or death, fear of isolation.

For people who are incarcerated and who understandably may struggle with trusting the system that is supposed to be keeping them safe, I am concerned that this kind of situation will make that lack of trust worse. I worry that when they get out of jail they will be less inclined to seek help. I imagine that the staff in the jails are doing as much as they can to support the patients, but the staff are also likely experiencing some version of the abandonment and frustration that the patients may feel.

I’ve also seen – not in a crisis of this magnitude but in other crisis situations – that a community really develops among everybody in incarcerated settings. A shared crisis forces everybody to work together in ways that they may not have before. That includes more tolerance for behaviors, more understanding of differences, including mental illness and developmental delay. More compassion.
 

Do you mean between prisoners and staff? Among everybody?

Everybody. In all of the different relationships you can imagine.
 

That speaks to the vulnerability and good nature in all of us. It’s encouraging.

It is, although it’s devastating to me that it happens because they collectively feel so neglected and forgotten. Shared trauma can bind people together very closely.
 

What psychiatric conditions did you typically see in New York City jails?

For the many people with serious mental illness, it’s generally schizophrenia-spectrum illnesses and bipolar disorder – really severe illnesses that do not do well in confinement settings. There’s a lot of anxiety and depression, some that rises to the level of serious illness. There is near universal substance use among the population.

There is also almost universal trauma exposure, whether early-childhood experiences or the ongoing trauma of incarceration. Not everyone has PTSD, but almost everyone behaves in a traumatized way. As you know, in the United States, incarceration is very racially and socioeconomically biased; the trauma of poverty can be incredibly harsh.

What I didn’t see were lots of people with antisocial personality disorder or diagnoses of malingering. That may surprise people. There’s an idea that everybody in jail is a liar and lacks empathy. I didn’t experience that. People in jail are doing whatever they can to survive.
 

What treatments are offered to these patients?

In New York City, all of the typical treatments that you would imagine for people with serious mental illness are offered in the jails: individual and group psychotherapy, medication management, substance use treatment, social work services, even creative art therapy. Many other jails are not able to do even a fraction of that.

In many jails there also has to be a lot of supportive therapy. This involves trying to help people get through a very anxiety-provoking and difficult time, when they frequently don’t know when they are going to be able to leave. I felt the same way as many of the correction officers – that the best thing for these patients is to be out of the jail, to be out of that toxic environment.
 

We have heard for years that the jail system and prison system is the new psych ward. Can you speak to how this occurred and the influence of deinstitutionalization?

When deinstitutionalization happened, there were not enough community agencies available that were equipped to take care of patients who were previously in hospitals. But I think a larger contributor to the overpopulation of people with mental illness in jails and prisons was the war on drugs. It disproportionately affected people who were poor, of color, and who had mental illness. Mental illness and substance use frequently occur together.

At the same time as deinstitutionalization and the war on drugs, there was also a tightening up of the laws relating to admission to psychiatric hospitals. The civil rights movement helped define the requirements that someone had to be dangerous and mentally ill in order to get admitted against their will. While this was an important protection against more indiscriminate admissions of the past, it made it harder to get into hospitals; the state hospitals were closed but the hospitals that were open were now harder to get into.
 

You mentioned that prisoners are undergoing trauma every day. Is this inherent to punitive confinement, or is it something that can be improved upon in the United States?

It’s important that you said “in the United States” as part of that question. Our approach to incarceration in the U.S. is heavily punishment based.
 

Compared to somewhere like Scandinavia, where inmates and prisoners are given a lot more support?

Or England or Canada. The challenge with comparing the United States to Scandinavia is that we are socioeconomically, demographically, and politically so different. But yes, my understanding about the Scandinavian systems are that they have a much more rehabilitative approach to incarceration. Until the U.S. can reframe the goals of incarceration to focus on helping individuals behave in a socially acceptable way, rather than destroy their sense of self-worth, we will continue to see the impact of trauma on generations of lives.

Now, that doesn’t mean that every jail and prison in this country is abusive. But taking away autonomy and freedom, applying inconsistent rules, using solitary confinement, and getting limited to no access to people you love all really destroy a person’s ability to behave in a way that society has deemed acceptable.
 

Assuming that mental health professionals such as yourself have a more compassionate understanding of what’s going on psychologically with the inmates, are you often at odds with law enforcement in the philosophy behind incarceration?

That’s an interesting question. When I moved from the hospital to the jail, I thought that I would run into a lot of resistance from the correction officer staff. I just thought, we’re coming at this from a totally different perspective: I’m trying to help these people and see if there’s a way to safely get them out, and you guys want to punish them.

It turns out that I was very misguided in that view, because it seemed to me that everybody wanted to do what was right for the patient. My perspective about what’s right involved respectful care, building self-esteem, treating illness. The correction officer’s perspective seemed to be keeping them safe, making sure that they can get through the system as quickly as possible, not having them get into fights. Our perspectives may have been different, but the goals were the same. I want all that stuff that the officers want as well.

It’s important to remember that the people who work inside jails and prisons are usually not the ones who are making the policies about who goes in. I haven’t had a lot of exposure working directly with many policymakers. I imagine that my opinions might differ from theirs in some regards.
 

For those working in the U.S. psychiatric healthcare system, what do you want them to know about mental health care in the correctional setting?

Patients in correctional settings are mostly the same patients seen in the public mental health system setting. The vast majority of people who spend time in jail or prison return to the community. But there’s a difference in how patients are perceived by many mental health professionals, including psychiatrists, depending on whether they have criminal justice experience or not.

I would encourage everybody to try to keep an open mind and remember that these patients are cycling through a very difficult system, for many reasons that are at least rooted in community trauma and poverty, and that it doesn’t change the nature of who they are. It doesn’t change that they’re still human beings and they still deserve care and support and treatment.

In this country, patients with mental illness and incarceration histories are so vulnerable and are often black, brown, and poor. It’s an incredible and disturbing representation of American society. But I feel like you can help a lot by getting involved in the frequently dysfunctional criminal justice system. Psychiatrists and other providers have an opportunity to fix things from the inside out.
 

What’s your new role at CASES?

I’m the chief medical officer at CASES [Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services]. It’s a large community organization that provides mental health treatment, case management, employment and education services, alternatives to incarceration, and general support for people who have experienced criminal justice involvement. CASES began operating in the 1960s, and around 2000 it began developing programs specifically addressing the connection between serious mental illness and criminal justice system involvement. For example, we take care of the patients who are coming out of the jails or prisons, or managing patients that the courts have said should go to treatment instead of incarceration.

I took the job because as conditions for individuals with serious mental illness started to improve in the jails, I started to hear more frequently from patients that they were getting better treatment in the jail than out in the community. That did not sit well with me and seemed to be almost the opposite of how it should be.

I also have never been an outpatient public psychiatrist. Most of the patients I treat live most of their lives outside of a jail or a hospital. It felt really important for me to understand the lives of these patients and to see if all of the resistance that I’ve heard from community psychiatrists about taking care of people who have been in jail is really true or not.

It was a logical transition for me. I’m following the patients and basically deinstitutionalizing [them] myself.

This article was first published on Medscape.com.

While working in health care has never been easy, the COVID-19 pandemic has brought on an entirely new dimension to the challenges that clinicians face. Many of the daily concerns we once had now pale in comparison with the weight of this historic pandemic. Anxiety about the survival of our patients is compounded by our own physical and emotional exhaustion, concern for our loved ones, and fear for our own safety while on the front lines. Through this seemingly insurmountable array of challenges, survival mode kicks in. We come into the hospital every day, put on our mask and gowns, and focus on providing the care we’ve been trained for. That’s what we do best – keeping on.

However, the sheer volume of patients grows by the day, including those who are critically ill and ventilated. With hundreds of deaths every day in New York City, and ICUs filled beyond three times capacity, our frontline clinicians are overstretched, exhausted, and in need of additional help. Emergency codes are called overhead at staggering frequencies. Our colleagues on the front lines are unfortunately becoming sick themselves, and those who are healthy are working extra shifts, at a pace they can only keep up for so long.

The heartbreaking reality of this pandemic is that our connection with our patients and families is fading amid the chaos. Many infection prevention policies prohibit families from physically visiting the hospitals. The scariest parts of a hospitalization – gasping for air, before intubation, and the final moments before death – are tragically occurring alone. The support we are able to give occurs behind masks and fogged goggles. There’s not a clinician I know who doesn’t want better for patients and families – and we can mobilize to do so.

At NYC Health + Hospitals, the largest public health system in the United States, and a hot zone of the COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve taken major steps to mitigate this tragedy. Our palliative care clinicians have stepped up to help reconnect the patients with their families. We secured hundreds of tablets to enable video calls, and improved inpatient work flows to facilitate updates to families. We bolstered support from our palliative care clinicians to our ICU teams and are expanding capacity to initiate goals of care conversations earlier, through automatic triggers and proactive discussions with our hospitalist teams. Last but certainly not least, we are calling out across the country for our willing colleagues who can volunteer their time remotely via telehealth to support our patients, families, and staff here in NYC Health + Hospitals.

We have been encouraged by the resolve and commitment of our friends and colleagues from all corners of the country. NYC Health + Hospitals is receiving many brave volunteers who are rising to the call and assisting in whatever way they can. If you are proficient in goals-of-care conversations and/or trained in palliative care and willing, please sign up here to volunteer remotely via telemedicine. We are still in the beginning of this war; this struggle will continue for months even after public eye has turned away. Our patients and frontline staff need your help.

Thank you and stay safe.
 

Dr. Cho is chief value officer at NYC Health + Hospitals, and clinical associate professor of medicine at New York University. He is a member of the Hospitalist’s editorial advisory board. Ms. Israilov is the inaugural Quality and Safety Student Scholar at NYC Health + Hospitals. She is an MD candidate at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York.

While working in health care has never been easy, the COVID-19 pandemic has brought on an entirely new dimension to the challenges that clinicians face. Many of the daily concerns we once had now pale in comparison with the weight of this historic pandemic. Anxiety about the survival of our patients is compounded by our own physical and emotional exhaustion, concern for our loved ones, and fear for our own safety while on the front lines. Through this seemingly insurmountable array of challenges, survival mode kicks in. We come into the hospital every day, put on our mask and gowns, and focus on providing the care we’ve been trained for. That’s what we do best – keeping on.

However, the sheer volume of patients grows by the day, including those who are critically ill and ventilated. With hundreds of deaths every day in New York City, and ICUs filled beyond three times capacity, our frontline clinicians are overstretched, exhausted, and in need of additional help. Emergency codes are called overhead at staggering frequencies. Our colleagues on the front lines are unfortunately becoming sick themselves, and those who are healthy are working extra shifts, at a pace they can only keep up for so long.

The heartbreaking reality of this pandemic is that our connection with our patients and families is fading amid the chaos. Many infection prevention policies prohibit families from physically visiting the hospitals. The scariest parts of a hospitalization – gasping for air, before intubation, and the final moments before death – are tragically occurring alone. The support we are able to give occurs behind masks and fogged goggles. There’s not a clinician I know who doesn’t want better for patients and families – and we can mobilize to do so.

At NYC Health + Hospitals, the largest public health system in the United States, and a hot zone of the COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve taken major steps to mitigate this tragedy. Our palliative care clinicians have stepped up to help reconnect the patients with their families. We secured hundreds of tablets to enable video calls, and improved inpatient work flows to facilitate updates to families. We bolstered support from our palliative care clinicians to our ICU teams and are expanding capacity to initiate goals of care conversations earlier, through automatic triggers and proactive discussions with our hospitalist teams. Last but certainly not least, we are calling out across the country for our willing colleagues who can volunteer their time remotely via telehealth to support our patients, families, and staff here in NYC Health + Hospitals.

We have been encouraged by the resolve and commitment of our friends and colleagues from all corners of the country. NYC Health + Hospitals is receiving many brave volunteers who are rising to the call and assisting in whatever way they can. If you are proficient in goals-of-care conversations and/or trained in palliative care and willing, please sign up here to volunteer remotely via telemedicine. We are still in the beginning of this war; this struggle will continue for months even after public eye has turned away. Our patients and frontline staff need your help.

Thank you and stay safe.
 

Dr. Cho is chief value officer at NYC Health + Hospitals, and clinical associate professor of medicine at New York University. He is a member of the Hospitalist’s editorial advisory board. Ms. Israilov is the inaugural Quality and Safety Student Scholar at NYC Health + Hospitals. She is an MD candidate at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York.

While working in health care has never been easy, the COVID-19 pandemic has brought on an entirely new dimension to the challenges that clinicians face. Many of the daily concerns we once had now pale in comparison with the weight of this historic pandemic. Anxiety about the survival of our patients is compounded by our own physical and emotional exhaustion, concern for our loved ones, and fear for our own safety while on the front lines. Through this seemingly insurmountable array of challenges, survival mode kicks in. We come into the hospital every day, put on our mask and gowns, and focus on providing the care we’ve been trained for. That’s what we do best – keeping on.

However, the sheer volume of patients grows by the day, including those who are critically ill and ventilated. With hundreds of deaths every day in New York City, and ICUs filled beyond three times capacity, our frontline clinicians are overstretched, exhausted, and in need of additional help. Emergency codes are called overhead at staggering frequencies. Our colleagues on the front lines are unfortunately becoming sick themselves, and those who are healthy are working extra shifts, at a pace they can only keep up for so long.

The heartbreaking reality of this pandemic is that our connection with our patients and families is fading amid the chaos. Many infection prevention policies prohibit families from physically visiting the hospitals. The scariest parts of a hospitalization – gasping for air, before intubation, and the final moments before death – are tragically occurring alone. The support we are able to give occurs behind masks and fogged goggles. There’s not a clinician I know who doesn’t want better for patients and families – and we can mobilize to do so.

At NYC Health + Hospitals, the largest public health system in the United States, and a hot zone of the COVID-19 pandemic, we’ve taken major steps to mitigate this tragedy. Our palliative care clinicians have stepped up to help reconnect the patients with their families. We secured hundreds of tablets to enable video calls, and improved inpatient work flows to facilitate updates to families. We bolstered support from our palliative care clinicians to our ICU teams and are expanding capacity to initiate goals of care conversations earlier, through automatic triggers and proactive discussions with our hospitalist teams. Last but certainly not least, we are calling out across the country for our willing colleagues who can volunteer their time remotely via telehealth to support our patients, families, and staff here in NYC Health + Hospitals.

We have been encouraged by the resolve and commitment of our friends and colleagues from all corners of the country. NYC Health + Hospitals is receiving many brave volunteers who are rising to the call and assisting in whatever way they can. If you are proficient in goals-of-care conversations and/or trained in palliative care and willing, please sign up here to volunteer remotely via telemedicine. We are still in the beginning of this war; this struggle will continue for months even after public eye has turned away. Our patients and frontline staff need your help.

Thank you and stay safe.
 

Dr. Cho is chief value officer at NYC Health + Hospitals, and clinical associate professor of medicine at New York University. He is a member of the Hospitalist’s editorial advisory board. Ms. Israilov is the inaugural Quality and Safety Student Scholar at NYC Health + Hospitals. She is an MD candidate at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York.

My patients and their families have never been more anxious. In the pediatric ED where I practice, everyone is on edge. The COVID-19 pandemic has amplified the feelings of anxious anticipation and uncertainty that families have when they bring their child to the ED. People are scared that their children have the virus or that they will contract it in this high-risk environment. Both are reasonable fears. As a doctor, it has never been more difficult for me to lessen that anxiety.

Every doctor has a version of an interpersonal toolkit they use to project confidence, maintain calm, and convey empathy. Parts of it are taught in medical school, but most components are learned by trial and error. For me, it starts with speaking clearly and directly. If I can do this successfully, it allows parents to understand my recommendations and feel comfortable with my expertise. But words alone are rarely enough to gain trust. For most people, trusting a doctor requires believing that the physician is empathetic and invested in their care or the care of their loved one.

My experience is that, in the short, high-intensity interactions of the ED, this often has to be achieved with body language and facial expressions. We use so many little movements in interactions with patients: a knowing smile, kind eyes, a timely frown, open arms. These gestures would typically show parents I understand how they feel, and I am invested in the health of their child. Hidden behind my mask, face shield, gown, and gloves, I remain a black box. I dispense advice but struggle to convey that it comes from someone who cares.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I would skirt the rules of personal protective equipment (PPE) usage to try and get a moment of human connection. I might appear in the doorway of a patient’s room, smile, and introduce myself before putting on my mask and goggles. If a parent seemed to expect a firm handshake, I would give one, careful to wash my hands before and after. As the guidelines around PPE usage have become more consistent and the danger of the virus increasingly evident, I have cut out these little indulgences. I wear a mask and eye protection from the moment I enter the ED until I leave. I touch as few patients as possible and generally stand 6 feet or more from everyone I talk to.

I believe most providers would agree; these precautions are the only ethical way to see patients during the pandemic. Patients and families are entitled to health care workers who are doing everything they can to protect themselves and those around them. As long as the pandemic lasts, patients and providers will need to recalibrate their expectations of interpersonal interactions. For the time being, good doctors might be defined as much by their PPE adherence as by their ability to connect with patients.

Dr. Shapiro is a clinical instructor of pediatrics at the George Washington University and a clinical associate in the division of emergency medicine at Children’s National Hospital, both in Washington. He said he had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Shapiro at [email protected].

My patients and their families have never been more anxious. In the pediatric ED where I practice, everyone is on edge. The COVID-19 pandemic has amplified the feelings of anxious anticipation and uncertainty that families have when they bring their child to the ED. People are scared that their children have the virus or that they will contract it in this high-risk environment. Both are reasonable fears. As a doctor, it has never been more difficult for me to lessen that anxiety.

Every doctor has a version of an interpersonal toolkit they use to project confidence, maintain calm, and convey empathy. Parts of it are taught in medical school, but most components are learned by trial and error. For me, it starts with speaking clearly and directly. If I can do this successfully, it allows parents to understand my recommendations and feel comfortable with my expertise. But words alone are rarely enough to gain trust. For most people, trusting a doctor requires believing that the physician is empathetic and invested in their care or the care of their loved one.

My experience is that, in the short, high-intensity interactions of the ED, this often has to be achieved with body language and facial expressions. We use so many little movements in interactions with patients: a knowing smile, kind eyes, a timely frown, open arms. These gestures would typically show parents I understand how they feel, and I am invested in the health of their child. Hidden behind my mask, face shield, gown, and gloves, I remain a black box. I dispense advice but struggle to convey that it comes from someone who cares.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I would skirt the rules of personal protective equipment (PPE) usage to try and get a moment of human connection. I might appear in the doorway of a patient’s room, smile, and introduce myself before putting on my mask and goggles. If a parent seemed to expect a firm handshake, I would give one, careful to wash my hands before and after. As the guidelines around PPE usage have become more consistent and the danger of the virus increasingly evident, I have cut out these little indulgences. I wear a mask and eye protection from the moment I enter the ED until I leave. I touch as few patients as possible and generally stand 6 feet or more from everyone I talk to.

I believe most providers would agree; these precautions are the only ethical way to see patients during the pandemic. Patients and families are entitled to health care workers who are doing everything they can to protect themselves and those around them. As long as the pandemic lasts, patients and providers will need to recalibrate their expectations of interpersonal interactions. For the time being, good doctors might be defined as much by their PPE adherence as by their ability to connect with patients.

Dr. Shapiro is a clinical instructor of pediatrics at the George Washington University and a clinical associate in the division of emergency medicine at Children’s National Hospital, both in Washington. He said he had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Shapiro at [email protected].

My patients and their families have never been more anxious. In the pediatric ED where I practice, everyone is on edge. The COVID-19 pandemic has amplified the feelings of anxious anticipation and uncertainty that families have when they bring their child to the ED. People are scared that their children have the virus or that they will contract it in this high-risk environment. Both are reasonable fears. As a doctor, it has never been more difficult for me to lessen that anxiety.

Every doctor has a version of an interpersonal toolkit they use to project confidence, maintain calm, and convey empathy. Parts of it are taught in medical school, but most components are learned by trial and error. For me, it starts with speaking clearly and directly. If I can do this successfully, it allows parents to understand my recommendations and feel comfortable with my expertise. But words alone are rarely enough to gain trust. For most people, trusting a doctor requires believing that the physician is empathetic and invested in their care or the care of their loved one.

My experience is that, in the short, high-intensity interactions of the ED, this often has to be achieved with body language and facial expressions. We use so many little movements in interactions with patients: a knowing smile, kind eyes, a timely frown, open arms. These gestures would typically show parents I understand how they feel, and I am invested in the health of their child. Hidden behind my mask, face shield, gown, and gloves, I remain a black box. I dispense advice but struggle to convey that it comes from someone who cares.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I would skirt the rules of personal protective equipment (PPE) usage to try and get a moment of human connection. I might appear in the doorway of a patient’s room, smile, and introduce myself before putting on my mask and goggles. If a parent seemed to expect a firm handshake, I would give one, careful to wash my hands before and after. As the guidelines around PPE usage have become more consistent and the danger of the virus increasingly evident, I have cut out these little indulgences. I wear a mask and eye protection from the moment I enter the ED until I leave. I touch as few patients as possible and generally stand 6 feet or more from everyone I talk to.

I believe most providers would agree; these precautions are the only ethical way to see patients during the pandemic. Patients and families are entitled to health care workers who are doing everything they can to protect themselves and those around them. As long as the pandemic lasts, patients and providers will need to recalibrate their expectations of interpersonal interactions. For the time being, good doctors might be defined as much by their PPE adherence as by their ability to connect with patients.

Dr. Shapiro is a clinical instructor of pediatrics at the George Washington University and a clinical associate in the division of emergency medicine at Children’s National Hospital, both in Washington. He said he had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Shapiro at [email protected].

A punch biopsy of one of the lesions showed a superficial and deep mixed inflammatory cell infiltrate, including neutrophils and eosinophils. There was also vasculitis, karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells. The findings are those of leukocytoclastic vasculitis, suggestive of acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy. Direct immunofluorescence was positive for IgM, C3, and fibrinogen, but negative for IgA.

Acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy (AHEI), also known as Finkelstein disease, is form of leukocytoclastic vasculitis that occurs in infants and toddlers aged between4 months and 3 years.

The lesions start as petechiae or edematous, erythematous to violaceous nodules that later coalesce and form “cockade”-like plaques with a central clearing on the face and extremities. Fever and edema accompany the vasculitic lesions, but children do not appear severely ill. Gastrointestinal, renal, and joint involvement are rare.¹ AHEI follows a benign course with resolution of the lesions and symptoms within days to weeks. The etiology of this condition is not known but infection triggers have been reported including coronavirus infections, coxsackie virus infections, Escherichia coli urinary tract infections, herpes simplex virus stomatitis, and pneumococcal bacteremia.^2,3 Our patient had a prior history of pneumococcal pneumonia and metapneumovirus infection. MMR vaccine also has been reported as a possible trigger, as well as some medications.

Laboratory results are usually normal, but some patients may have elevated inflammatory markers (C-reactive protein and erythrocyte sedimentation rate), as noted in our patient, and leukocytosis, thrombocytosis, and eosinophilia. Microscopic analysis demonstrates leukocytoclastic vasculitis of small vessels with associated karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells.

The differential diagnosis includes other vasculitic conditions, primarily Henoch-Schönlein purpura (HSP). Patients with HSP tend to be older in age and the lesions described as palpable purpura commonly affect the lower extremities and buttocks. These patients can present with abdominal pain and arthritis; renal compromise also can occur. Direct immunofluorescence can commonly be positive for IgA, which was negative in our patient.

AHEI and HSP are considered different entities, but both present with leukocytoclastic vasculitis.¹ Another condition to consider in patients with fever, rash, and edema is Kawasaki disease, also a form of vasculitis, that affects small- and medium-size muscular vessels with predilection for the coronary arteries. Patients with Kawasaki disease present with fever (usually longer than 5 days), facial and extremity edema (similar to AHEI), skin lesions (which may have multiple presentations, the most common being macular, papular and erythematous, and urticarial eruptions), but also lymphadenopathy and conjunctivitis. These patients appear sicker than children with AHEI. Their laboratory results show leukocytosis, thrombocytosis or thrombocytopenia, elevated inflammatory markers, and sterile pyuria.⁴

Patients with erythema nodosum present with tender erythematous nodules, which can look like early AHEI lesions. The most common location is the lower extremities, but in children erythema nodosum can occur on the face, trunk, and arms. The lesions can occur secondary to infections such as streptococcus, mycoplasma, tuberculosis, coccidioidomycosis, and sarcoidosis, as well as to malignancy or medications. These patients do not appear sick, are not febrile, and are rarely seen under 2 years of age.⁵

Acute febrile neutrophilic dermatosis – Sweets’ syndrome – also should be considered in a patient with tender nodules, fever, and leukocytosis. The skin lesions in Sweets’ syndrome, compared with those in AHEI, are painful and can present as papules, nodules, and bullae on the face and extremities. A prior history of an upper respiratory infection is commonly described in children with Sweets’ syndrome. These patients present with fever, which may start days to weeks prior to the lesions starting. Children with Sweets’ syndrome also can have conjunctivitis, myalgias, polyarthritis, and in severe cases septic shock and multiorgan dysfunction. Sweets’ syndrome can be seen in patients with inflammatory bowel disease, systemic lupus erythematosus, chronic multifocal osteomyelitis, and malignancy; it also may be induced by certain medications.⁶

As mentioned above, the course of AHEI is benign, and the condition resolves within days to weeks. Treatment is supportive.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego. She had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Matiz at [email protected].

References

1. F1000Res. 2019;8:1771.

2. Pediatr Dermatol. 2006 Jul-Aug;23(4):361-4.

3. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Nov-Dec;32(6):e309-11.

4. Clin Dermatol. 2017 Nov-Dec;35(6):530-40.

5. Yonsei Med J. 2019 Mar;60(3):312-4.

6. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Jul-Aug;32(4):437-46.

A punch biopsy of one of the lesions showed a superficial and deep mixed inflammatory cell infiltrate, including neutrophils and eosinophils. There was also vasculitis, karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells. The findings are those of leukocytoclastic vasculitis, suggestive of acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy. Direct immunofluorescence was positive for IgM, C3, and fibrinogen, but negative for IgA.

Acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy (AHEI), also known as Finkelstein disease, is form of leukocytoclastic vasculitis that occurs in infants and toddlers aged between4 months and 3 years.

The lesions start as petechiae or edematous, erythematous to violaceous nodules that later coalesce and form “cockade”-like plaques with a central clearing on the face and extremities. Fever and edema accompany the vasculitic lesions, but children do not appear severely ill. Gastrointestinal, renal, and joint involvement are rare.¹ AHEI follows a benign course with resolution of the lesions and symptoms within days to weeks. The etiology of this condition is not known but infection triggers have been reported including coronavirus infections, coxsackie virus infections, Escherichia coli urinary tract infections, herpes simplex virus stomatitis, and pneumococcal bacteremia.^2,3 Our patient had a prior history of pneumococcal pneumonia and metapneumovirus infection. MMR vaccine also has been reported as a possible trigger, as well as some medications.

Laboratory results are usually normal, but some patients may have elevated inflammatory markers (C-reactive protein and erythrocyte sedimentation rate), as noted in our patient, and leukocytosis, thrombocytosis, and eosinophilia. Microscopic analysis demonstrates leukocytoclastic vasculitis of small vessels with associated karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells.

The differential diagnosis includes other vasculitic conditions, primarily Henoch-Schönlein purpura (HSP). Patients with HSP tend to be older in age and the lesions described as palpable purpura commonly affect the lower extremities and buttocks. These patients can present with abdominal pain and arthritis; renal compromise also can occur. Direct immunofluorescence can commonly be positive for IgA, which was negative in our patient.

AHEI and HSP are considered different entities, but both present with leukocytoclastic vasculitis.¹ Another condition to consider in patients with fever, rash, and edema is Kawasaki disease, also a form of vasculitis, that affects small- and medium-size muscular vessels with predilection for the coronary arteries. Patients with Kawasaki disease present with fever (usually longer than 5 days), facial and extremity edema (similar to AHEI), skin lesions (which may have multiple presentations, the most common being macular, papular and erythematous, and urticarial eruptions), but also lymphadenopathy and conjunctivitis. These patients appear sicker than children with AHEI. Their laboratory results show leukocytosis, thrombocytosis or thrombocytopenia, elevated inflammatory markers, and sterile pyuria.⁴

Patients with erythema nodosum present with tender erythematous nodules, which can look like early AHEI lesions. The most common location is the lower extremities, but in children erythema nodosum can occur on the face, trunk, and arms. The lesions can occur secondary to infections such as streptococcus, mycoplasma, tuberculosis, coccidioidomycosis, and sarcoidosis, as well as to malignancy or medications. These patients do not appear sick, are not febrile, and are rarely seen under 2 years of age.⁵

Acute febrile neutrophilic dermatosis – Sweets’ syndrome – also should be considered in a patient with tender nodules, fever, and leukocytosis. The skin lesions in Sweets’ syndrome, compared with those in AHEI, are painful and can present as papules, nodules, and bullae on the face and extremities. A prior history of an upper respiratory infection is commonly described in children with Sweets’ syndrome. These patients present with fever, which may start days to weeks prior to the lesions starting. Children with Sweets’ syndrome also can have conjunctivitis, myalgias, polyarthritis, and in severe cases septic shock and multiorgan dysfunction. Sweets’ syndrome can be seen in patients with inflammatory bowel disease, systemic lupus erythematosus, chronic multifocal osteomyelitis, and malignancy; it also may be induced by certain medications.⁶

As mentioned above, the course of AHEI is benign, and the condition resolves within days to weeks. Treatment is supportive.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego. She had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Matiz at [email protected].

References

1. F1000Res. 2019;8:1771.

2. Pediatr Dermatol. 2006 Jul-Aug;23(4):361-4.

3. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Nov-Dec;32(6):e309-11.

4. Clin Dermatol. 2017 Nov-Dec;35(6):530-40.

5. Yonsei Med J. 2019 Mar;60(3):312-4.

6. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Jul-Aug;32(4):437-46.

A punch biopsy of one of the lesions showed a superficial and deep mixed inflammatory cell infiltrate, including neutrophils and eosinophils. There was also vasculitis, karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells. The findings are those of leukocytoclastic vasculitis, suggestive of acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy. Direct immunofluorescence was positive for IgM, C3, and fibrinogen, but negative for IgA.

Acute hemorrhagic edema of infancy (AHEI), also known as Finkelstein disease, is form of leukocytoclastic vasculitis that occurs in infants and toddlers aged between4 months and 3 years.

The lesions start as petechiae or edematous, erythematous to violaceous nodules that later coalesce and form “cockade”-like plaques with a central clearing on the face and extremities. Fever and edema accompany the vasculitic lesions, but children do not appear severely ill. Gastrointestinal, renal, and joint involvement are rare.¹ AHEI follows a benign course with resolution of the lesions and symptoms within days to weeks. The etiology of this condition is not known but infection triggers have been reported including coronavirus infections, coxsackie virus infections, Escherichia coli urinary tract infections, herpes simplex virus stomatitis, and pneumococcal bacteremia.^2,3 Our patient had a prior history of pneumococcal pneumonia and metapneumovirus infection. MMR vaccine also has been reported as a possible trigger, as well as some medications.

Laboratory results are usually normal, but some patients may have elevated inflammatory markers (C-reactive protein and erythrocyte sedimentation rate), as noted in our patient, and leukocytosis, thrombocytosis, and eosinophilia. Microscopic analysis demonstrates leukocytoclastic vasculitis of small vessels with associated karyorrhexis and extravasated red blood cells.

The differential diagnosis includes other vasculitic conditions, primarily Henoch-Schönlein purpura (HSP). Patients with HSP tend to be older in age and the lesions described as palpable purpura commonly affect the lower extremities and buttocks. These patients can present with abdominal pain and arthritis; renal compromise also can occur. Direct immunofluorescence can commonly be positive for IgA, which was negative in our patient.

AHEI and HSP are considered different entities, but both present with leukocytoclastic vasculitis.¹ Another condition to consider in patients with fever, rash, and edema is Kawasaki disease, also a form of vasculitis, that affects small- and medium-size muscular vessels with predilection for the coronary arteries. Patients with Kawasaki disease present with fever (usually longer than 5 days), facial and extremity edema (similar to AHEI), skin lesions (which may have multiple presentations, the most common being macular, papular and erythematous, and urticarial eruptions), but also lymphadenopathy and conjunctivitis. These patients appear sicker than children with AHEI. Their laboratory results show leukocytosis, thrombocytosis or thrombocytopenia, elevated inflammatory markers, and sterile pyuria.⁴

Patients with erythema nodosum present with tender erythematous nodules, which can look like early AHEI lesions. The most common location is the lower extremities, but in children erythema nodosum can occur on the face, trunk, and arms. The lesions can occur secondary to infections such as streptococcus, mycoplasma, tuberculosis, coccidioidomycosis, and sarcoidosis, as well as to malignancy or medications. These patients do not appear sick, are not febrile, and are rarely seen under 2 years of age.⁵

Acute febrile neutrophilic dermatosis – Sweets’ syndrome – also should be considered in a patient with tender nodules, fever, and leukocytosis. The skin lesions in Sweets’ syndrome, compared with those in AHEI, are painful and can present as papules, nodules, and bullae on the face and extremities. A prior history of an upper respiratory infection is commonly described in children with Sweets’ syndrome. These patients present with fever, which may start days to weeks prior to the lesions starting. Children with Sweets’ syndrome also can have conjunctivitis, myalgias, polyarthritis, and in severe cases septic shock and multiorgan dysfunction. Sweets’ syndrome can be seen in patients with inflammatory bowel disease, systemic lupus erythematosus, chronic multifocal osteomyelitis, and malignancy; it also may be induced by certain medications.⁶

As mentioned above, the course of AHEI is benign, and the condition resolves within days to weeks. Treatment is supportive.

Dr. Matiz is a pediatric dermatologist at Southern California Permanente Medical Group, San Diego. She had no relevant financial disclosures. Email Dr. Matiz at [email protected].

References

1. F1000Res. 2019;8:1771.

2. Pediatr Dermatol. 2006 Jul-Aug;23(4):361-4.

3. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Nov-Dec;32(6):e309-11.

4. Clin Dermatol. 2017 Nov-Dec;35(6):530-40.

5. Yonsei Med J. 2019 Mar;60(3):312-4.

6. Pediatr Dermatol. 2015 Jul-Aug;32(4):437-46.

Medicine, as often said, is a business.

That’s often forgotten in a crisis, such as COVID-19, and with good reason. Our training in medicine is needed to care for the sick and find ways to prevent disease. Things like money are in the background when it comes to the emergencies of saving lives and helping the sick.

But that doesn’t mean finances don’t matter. They’re always in the background for medical practices of all sizes – just like any business.

Some practices have closed for patient and staff safety. I haven’t gone that far, as some people still need me. I am, after all, a doctor.

So I’m alone in my office, my staff working from home. That helps cut some lines of transmission there.

Like everyone else, I’m also doing telemedicine, and even a few phone appointments. These keep all involved safe, but also have a lot of limitations. They’re fine for checking up on stable, established patients, or following up on test results. But certainly not for new patients or established ones with new problems.

After all, you can’t evaluate a foot drop, extrapyramidal rigidity, or do an EMG/NCV over the video-phone connection.

In-person appointments are spaced out to minimize the number of people in my waiting room. Patients are told not to come in if they’re sick, and I insist we both be wearing masks (of pretty much any kind at this point). Common-use pens, such as those out in the waiting room, are wiped down with alcohol between uses.

People need to be seen, in both good and bad times. That’s the nature of medicine. But the business of medicine is always there, too. So, as the coronavirus emergency plays out, I have to watch my bank accounts closely.

With only two staff members, there really isn’t anyone extraneous to cut. I’ve stopped taking a paycheck so I can keep paying them, my rent, and the other miscellaneous costs of running an office.

I’ve always taken a bonus only at the end of the year, after all the other accounts have been paid, and take only a modest regular salary. In this case, that’s worked to my advantage, as I had more cash on hand when the emergency started. While not a huge amount, it’s enough to buy me some time, maybe several weeks, to see how this plays out. After that I’d have to tap into a line of credit, which obviously no one wants to do.

Telemedicine and the few office patients I’m seeing are a trickle of revenue. It’s better than nothing, but certainly isn’t enough to keep the door open and lights on.

That said, I’m not ungrateful. I’m well aware how fortunate my practice and family are compared to many others during this time. I haven’t had to ask for a pass on a mortgage or rent payment – yet. My staff and I have been together since 2004. I’m not going to break up a great team now.

I have no idea when things will turn around and people will start to come in. Your guess is as good as mine. I suspect the trickle will slowly increase at some point, then suddenly there will be a surge of calls for appointments from people who’ve been putting off coming in. Even then, though, I’ll likely space appointments apart and keep using a mask until it appears things are stable. There are going to be further waves of infections, and we don’t know how bad they’ll be.

Like everyone else, I can only hope for the best.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz. He has no relevant disclosures.

Medicine, as often said, is a business.

That’s often forgotten in a crisis, such as COVID-19, and with good reason. Our training in medicine is needed to care for the sick and find ways to prevent disease. Things like money are in the background when it comes to the emergencies of saving lives and helping the sick.

But that doesn’t mean finances don’t matter. They’re always in the background for medical practices of all sizes – just like any business.

Some practices have closed for patient and staff safety. I haven’t gone that far, as some people still need me. I am, after all, a doctor.

So I’m alone in my office, my staff working from home. That helps cut some lines of transmission there.

Like everyone else, I’m also doing telemedicine, and even a few phone appointments. These keep all involved safe, but also have a lot of limitations. They’re fine for checking up on stable, established patients, or following up on test results. But certainly not for new patients or established ones with new problems.

After all, you can’t evaluate a foot drop, extrapyramidal rigidity, or do an EMG/NCV over the video-phone connection.

In-person appointments are spaced out to minimize the number of people in my waiting room. Patients are told not to come in if they’re sick, and I insist we both be wearing masks (of pretty much any kind at this point). Common-use pens, such as those out in the waiting room, are wiped down with alcohol between uses.

People need to be seen, in both good and bad times. That’s the nature of medicine. But the business of medicine is always there, too. So, as the coronavirus emergency plays out, I have to watch my bank accounts closely.

With only two staff members, there really isn’t anyone extraneous to cut. I’ve stopped taking a paycheck so I can keep paying them, my rent, and the other miscellaneous costs of running an office.

I’ve always taken a bonus only at the end of the year, after all the other accounts have been paid, and take only a modest regular salary. In this case, that’s worked to my advantage, as I had more cash on hand when the emergency started. While not a huge amount, it’s enough to buy me some time, maybe several weeks, to see how this plays out. After that I’d have to tap into a line of credit, which obviously no one wants to do.

Telemedicine and the few office patients I’m seeing are a trickle of revenue. It’s better than nothing, but certainly isn’t enough to keep the door open and lights on.

That said, I’m not ungrateful. I’m well aware how fortunate my practice and family are compared to many others during this time. I haven’t had to ask for a pass on a mortgage or rent payment – yet. My staff and I have been together since 2004. I’m not going to break up a great team now.

I have no idea when things will turn around and people will start to come in. Your guess is as good as mine. I suspect the trickle will slowly increase at some point, then suddenly there will be a surge of calls for appointments from people who’ve been putting off coming in. Even then, though, I’ll likely space appointments apart and keep using a mask until it appears things are stable. There are going to be further waves of infections, and we don’t know how bad they’ll be.

Like everyone else, I can only hope for the best.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz. He has no relevant disclosures.

Medicine, as often said, is a business.

That’s often forgotten in a crisis, such as COVID-19, and with good reason. Our training in medicine is needed to care for the sick and find ways to prevent disease. Things like money are in the background when it comes to the emergencies of saving lives and helping the sick.

But that doesn’t mean finances don’t matter. They’re always in the background for medical practices of all sizes – just like any business.

Some practices have closed for patient and staff safety. I haven’t gone that far, as some people still need me. I am, after all, a doctor.

So I’m alone in my office, my staff working from home. That helps cut some lines of transmission there.

Like everyone else, I’m also doing telemedicine, and even a few phone appointments. These keep all involved safe, but also have a lot of limitations. They’re fine for checking up on stable, established patients, or following up on test results. But certainly not for new patients or established ones with new problems.

After all, you can’t evaluate a foot drop, extrapyramidal rigidity, or do an EMG/NCV over the video-phone connection.

In-person appointments are spaced out to minimize the number of people in my waiting room. Patients are told not to come in if they’re sick, and I insist we both be wearing masks (of pretty much any kind at this point). Common-use pens, such as those out in the waiting room, are wiped down with alcohol between uses.

People need to be seen, in both good and bad times. That’s the nature of medicine. But the business of medicine is always there, too. So, as the coronavirus emergency plays out, I have to watch my bank accounts closely.

With only two staff members, there really isn’t anyone extraneous to cut. I’ve stopped taking a paycheck so I can keep paying them, my rent, and the other miscellaneous costs of running an office.

I’ve always taken a bonus only at the end of the year, after all the other accounts have been paid, and take only a modest regular salary. In this case, that’s worked to my advantage, as I had more cash on hand when the emergency started. While not a huge amount, it’s enough to buy me some time, maybe several weeks, to see how this plays out. After that I’d have to tap into a line of credit, which obviously no one wants to do.

Telemedicine and the few office patients I’m seeing are a trickle of revenue. It’s better than nothing, but certainly isn’t enough to keep the door open and lights on.

That said, I’m not ungrateful. I’m well aware how fortunate my practice and family are compared to many others during this time. I haven’t had to ask for a pass on a mortgage or rent payment – yet. My staff and I have been together since 2004. I’m not going to break up a great team now.

I have no idea when things will turn around and people will start to come in. Your guess is as good as mine. I suspect the trickle will slowly increase at some point, then suddenly there will be a surge of calls for appointments from people who’ve been putting off coming in. Even then, though, I’ll likely space appointments apart and keep using a mask until it appears things are stable. There are going to be further waves of infections, and we don’t know how bad they’ll be.

Like everyone else, I can only hope for the best.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz. He has no relevant disclosures.

These are tough times for families, children, and practices. In this case, the entire world is going through it at the same time, leaving no escape. There are so many new things each of us needs to do, and for some of the challenges, we are completely thwarted by safety restrictions from doing anything. Adults and children alike are trying to work or learn at home in new ways. This also means that old daily routines have been broken. The sense of disorientation is pervasive. Although it is only one part of what is needed, reestablishing routines can go a long way toward restoring a sense of control and meaning that you can institute for yourself and recommend to your patients.

Wavebreakmedia/Thinkstock

Routines are important for both physical and mental health at every age and time, but especially when a major change is occurring. Examples of such change include natural disasters such as COVID-19, deaths, or separations from loved ones, but also moving, job loss, or new financial instability. Many families and many doctors and staff are experiencing several of these at once these days.

Evidence from studies of times of major disruption such as divorce, a death, war, and natural disasters show that parenting tends to shift to being less organized, with less overall discipline or more arbitrary punishment, and, in some cases, less parent-child connection. Children, on their part, also tend to act differently under these conditions. They are more irritable, upset, anxious, clingy, and aggressive, and also tend to regress in recent developmental achievements such as maintaining toileting and sleep patterns. Parents often do not see the connection to the stress and react to these behaviors in ways that may make things worse by scolding or punishing.

I was really surprised to hear Daniel Kahneman, PhD, Nobel laureate in economics, talk about how even he has trouble judging risk based on mathematical probability. Instead, he recognizes that adults decide about risk based on the behavior of the people around them – when others act worried or agitated, the person does too. Children, even more than adults, must decide if they are safe based on the behavior of the adults around them. When parents maintain routines as closely as possible after a major disruption, children feel reassured that they can expect continuity of their relationship – their most important lifeboat. If their parents keep doing the things they are used to, children basically feel safe.

Simple aspects of sameness important to children are very familiar to pediatricians: always wanting the same spoon, the sandwich cut the same way, only chicken nuggets from a certain store. This tends to be true in typically developing toddlers, preschool, and some school-aged children. The desire to have the same story read to them multiple times – until parents are ready to scream! – is another sign of the importance of predictable routines to children. All of these are best accommodated during times of stress rather than trying to “avoid making a bad habit.” All disruptions of routine are even more disorienting for children with intellectual disabilities or those on the autism spectrum who are generally less able to understand or control their world. Children and adults with preexisting anxiety disorders also are more likely to have more severe reactions to major disruptions and need extra understanding.

Routines for eating at least something at regular times – even if the food is not as interesting as prior fare – provide a sense of security, as well as stabilizing blood sugar and bowel patterns. Keeping patterns of washing hands, sitting together as a family, and interacting in conversation, rather than watching TV news, allow an oasis of respite from ongoing stresses. Family meals are also known to promote learning, vocabulary growth, and better behavior.

Setting a schedule for schooling, play, hygiene, and exercise may seem silly when parents and children are home all day, but it instills a sense of meaning to the day. Making a visual schedule for younger children or a written or online one for older children can be a shared activity in itself. I remember hearing about how important changing clothes and cleaning teeth were to prisoners of war during World War II in maintaining a sense of normalcy in that time of chaos.

Exercise is particularly important to set as a routine as it directly reduces stress – even if it may need to take new forms. While there are lots of online exercise programs for adults, it is better for everyone to go outside if they can manage adequate personal spacing. There they can experience the orderly changing of the seasons and the weather, as well as soak up some sunshine. Interactive parent-child play serves multiple purposes of stress relief, seeing each other more relaxed, interacting, and having fun!

Routines for sleep are especially important. To fall asleep under normal circumstances requires a sense of safety, perhaps for evolutionary reasons because of the vulnerability of the paralysis that is part of REM sleep stages. Fear at bedtime is common in young children, as is disorientation in the elderly. Both respond to reassuring bedtime routines done the same way every night, such as brushing teeth, changing clothes, washing up, reading or being read to, and praying – if these were the previous habit. When there has been a major disruption, these routines take on added importance, even if some modifications need to be made in sleep location, privacy, etc. Keeping schedules for naps, bedtime, and wake time as stable as possible makes sleep onset easier and sleep maintenance more likely. It also increases the chances of adequate sleep duration. Getting enough sleep stabilizes mood, reduces irritability, and improves daytime concentration and problem-solving skills. These all are especially needed by adults as well as children when there are major disruptions.

Maintaining chores at times of disruption can be extra difficult, plus this may seem to parents like an added stress for their already-stressed child. But in fact, children are reassured by adults’ continuing these requirements. Not only is an expectation that chores be done a signal that life can be expected to proceed normally, but having children do things to help – such as cleaning up, restocking soap and towels, or emptying trash – gives them an active role and hence some sense of control.

Discipline is, in essence, also a routine. Maintaining standards for kindness to others and following rules can be especially difficult when life has been disrupted because emotional lability is more likely in both adults and children when severely stressed. It is important for parents to consider the source of the misbehavior as possibly stress related and to interrupt it in a gentle and understanding way. A parent might say: “I know you are upset by all the changes. It is even more important now than ever to be kind to your brother.” Under stressful conditions, it is especially important to ask how the child was feeling when acting up, but also to “speak for them” about possible stress-related reasons for their behavior. While parents may correctly say that their child will “take advantage of this excuse,” it is still a teaching opportunity. Children have little insight into these connections to their feelings and actions, but they can learn.

Times when old patterns are disrupted also are times for making new habits. The main new habit I recommend for stress relief and overall mental health are the practices of mindfulness or meditation. Mindfulness may be easier to teach children as it involves paying close attention to one’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but doing this without judgment. Children often are naturally better at this than adults, who have layered on more experiences to their thoughts. We pediatricians, as well as the parents we serve, can benefit – especially in stressful times – from sharing in the simple ways children experience the world.

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

These are tough times for families, children, and practices. In this case, the entire world is going through it at the same time, leaving no escape. There are so many new things each of us needs to do, and for some of the challenges, we are completely thwarted by safety restrictions from doing anything. Adults and children alike are trying to work or learn at home in new ways. This also means that old daily routines have been broken. The sense of disorientation is pervasive. Although it is only one part of what is needed, reestablishing routines can go a long way toward restoring a sense of control and meaning that you can institute for yourself and recommend to your patients.

Wavebreakmedia/Thinkstock

Routines are important for both physical and mental health at every age and time, but especially when a major change is occurring. Examples of such change include natural disasters such as COVID-19, deaths, or separations from loved ones, but also moving, job loss, or new financial instability. Many families and many doctors and staff are experiencing several of these at once these days.

Evidence from studies of times of major disruption such as divorce, a death, war, and natural disasters show that parenting tends to shift to being less organized, with less overall discipline or more arbitrary punishment, and, in some cases, less parent-child connection. Children, on their part, also tend to act differently under these conditions. They are more irritable, upset, anxious, clingy, and aggressive, and also tend to regress in recent developmental achievements such as maintaining toileting and sleep patterns. Parents often do not see the connection to the stress and react to these behaviors in ways that may make things worse by scolding or punishing.

I was really surprised to hear Daniel Kahneman, PhD, Nobel laureate in economics, talk about how even he has trouble judging risk based on mathematical probability. Instead, he recognizes that adults decide about risk based on the behavior of the people around them – when others act worried or agitated, the person does too. Children, even more than adults, must decide if they are safe based on the behavior of the adults around them. When parents maintain routines as closely as possible after a major disruption, children feel reassured that they can expect continuity of their relationship – their most important lifeboat. If their parents keep doing the things they are used to, children basically feel safe.

Simple aspects of sameness important to children are very familiar to pediatricians: always wanting the same spoon, the sandwich cut the same way, only chicken nuggets from a certain store. This tends to be true in typically developing toddlers, preschool, and some school-aged children. The desire to have the same story read to them multiple times – until parents are ready to scream! – is another sign of the importance of predictable routines to children. All of these are best accommodated during times of stress rather than trying to “avoid making a bad habit.” All disruptions of routine are even more disorienting for children with intellectual disabilities or those on the autism spectrum who are generally less able to understand or control their world. Children and adults with preexisting anxiety disorders also are more likely to have more severe reactions to major disruptions and need extra understanding.

Routines for eating at least something at regular times – even if the food is not as interesting as prior fare – provide a sense of security, as well as stabilizing blood sugar and bowel patterns. Keeping patterns of washing hands, sitting together as a family, and interacting in conversation, rather than watching TV news, allow an oasis of respite from ongoing stresses. Family meals are also known to promote learning, vocabulary growth, and better behavior.

Setting a schedule for schooling, play, hygiene, and exercise may seem silly when parents and children are home all day, but it instills a sense of meaning to the day. Making a visual schedule for younger children or a written or online one for older children can be a shared activity in itself. I remember hearing about how important changing clothes and cleaning teeth were to prisoners of war during World War II in maintaining a sense of normalcy in that time of chaos.

Exercise is particularly important to set as a routine as it directly reduces stress – even if it may need to take new forms. While there are lots of online exercise programs for adults, it is better for everyone to go outside if they can manage adequate personal spacing. There they can experience the orderly changing of the seasons and the weather, as well as soak up some sunshine. Interactive parent-child play serves multiple purposes of stress relief, seeing each other more relaxed, interacting, and having fun!

Routines for sleep are especially important. To fall asleep under normal circumstances requires a sense of safety, perhaps for evolutionary reasons because of the vulnerability of the paralysis that is part of REM sleep stages. Fear at bedtime is common in young children, as is disorientation in the elderly. Both respond to reassuring bedtime routines done the same way every night, such as brushing teeth, changing clothes, washing up, reading or being read to, and praying – if these were the previous habit. When there has been a major disruption, these routines take on added importance, even if some modifications need to be made in sleep location, privacy, etc. Keeping schedules for naps, bedtime, and wake time as stable as possible makes sleep onset easier and sleep maintenance more likely. It also increases the chances of adequate sleep duration. Getting enough sleep stabilizes mood, reduces irritability, and improves daytime concentration and problem-solving skills. These all are especially needed by adults as well as children when there are major disruptions.

Maintaining chores at times of disruption can be extra difficult, plus this may seem to parents like an added stress for their already-stressed child. But in fact, children are reassured by adults’ continuing these requirements. Not only is an expectation that chores be done a signal that life can be expected to proceed normally, but having children do things to help – such as cleaning up, restocking soap and towels, or emptying trash – gives them an active role and hence some sense of control.

Discipline is, in essence, also a routine. Maintaining standards for kindness to others and following rules can be especially difficult when life has been disrupted because emotional lability is more likely in both adults and children when severely stressed. It is important for parents to consider the source of the misbehavior as possibly stress related and to interrupt it in a gentle and understanding way. A parent might say: “I know you are upset by all the changes. It is even more important now than ever to be kind to your brother.” Under stressful conditions, it is especially important to ask how the child was feeling when acting up, but also to “speak for them” about possible stress-related reasons for their behavior. While parents may correctly say that their child will “take advantage of this excuse,” it is still a teaching opportunity. Children have little insight into these connections to their feelings and actions, but they can learn.

Times when old patterns are disrupted also are times for making new habits. The main new habit I recommend for stress relief and overall mental health are the practices of mindfulness or meditation. Mindfulness may be easier to teach children as it involves paying close attention to one’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but doing this without judgment. Children often are naturally better at this than adults, who have layered on more experiences to their thoughts. We pediatricians, as well as the parents we serve, can benefit – especially in stressful times – from sharing in the simple ways children experience the world.

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

These are tough times for families, children, and practices. In this case, the entire world is going through it at the same time, leaving no escape. There are so many new things each of us needs to do, and for some of the challenges, we are completely thwarted by safety restrictions from doing anything. Adults and children alike are trying to work or learn at home in new ways. This also means that old daily routines have been broken. The sense of disorientation is pervasive. Although it is only one part of what is needed, reestablishing routines can go a long way toward restoring a sense of control and meaning that you can institute for yourself and recommend to your patients.

Wavebreakmedia/Thinkstock

Routines are important for both physical and mental health at every age and time, but especially when a major change is occurring. Examples of such change include natural disasters such as COVID-19, deaths, or separations from loved ones, but also moving, job loss, or new financial instability. Many families and many doctors and staff are experiencing several of these at once these days.

Evidence from studies of times of major disruption such as divorce, a death, war, and natural disasters show that parenting tends to shift to being less organized, with less overall discipline or more arbitrary punishment, and, in some cases, less parent-child connection. Children, on their part, also tend to act differently under these conditions. They are more irritable, upset, anxious, clingy, and aggressive, and also tend to regress in recent developmental achievements such as maintaining toileting and sleep patterns. Parents often do not see the connection to the stress and react to these behaviors in ways that may make things worse by scolding or punishing.

I was really surprised to hear Daniel Kahneman, PhD, Nobel laureate in economics, talk about how even he has trouble judging risk based on mathematical probability. Instead, he recognizes that adults decide about risk based on the behavior of the people around them – when others act worried or agitated, the person does too. Children, even more than adults, must decide if they are safe based on the behavior of the adults around them. When parents maintain routines as closely as possible after a major disruption, children feel reassured that they can expect continuity of their relationship – their most important lifeboat. If their parents keep doing the things they are used to, children basically feel safe.

Simple aspects of sameness important to children are very familiar to pediatricians: always wanting the same spoon, the sandwich cut the same way, only chicken nuggets from a certain store. This tends to be true in typically developing toddlers, preschool, and some school-aged children. The desire to have the same story read to them multiple times – until parents are ready to scream! – is another sign of the importance of predictable routines to children. All of these are best accommodated during times of stress rather than trying to “avoid making a bad habit.” All disruptions of routine are even more disorienting for children with intellectual disabilities or those on the autism spectrum who are generally less able to understand or control their world. Children and adults with preexisting anxiety disorders also are more likely to have more severe reactions to major disruptions and need extra understanding.

Routines for eating at least something at regular times – even if the food is not as interesting as prior fare – provide a sense of security, as well as stabilizing blood sugar and bowel patterns. Keeping patterns of washing hands, sitting together as a family, and interacting in conversation, rather than watching TV news, allow an oasis of respite from ongoing stresses. Family meals are also known to promote learning, vocabulary growth, and better behavior.

Setting a schedule for schooling, play, hygiene, and exercise may seem silly when parents and children are home all day, but it instills a sense of meaning to the day. Making a visual schedule for younger children or a written or online one for older children can be a shared activity in itself. I remember hearing about how important changing clothes and cleaning teeth were to prisoners of war during World War II in maintaining a sense of normalcy in that time of chaos.

Exercise is particularly important to set as a routine as it directly reduces stress – even if it may need to take new forms. While there are lots of online exercise programs for adults, it is better for everyone to go outside if they can manage adequate personal spacing. There they can experience the orderly changing of the seasons and the weather, as well as soak up some sunshine. Interactive parent-child play serves multiple purposes of stress relief, seeing each other more relaxed, interacting, and having fun!

Routines for sleep are especially important. To fall asleep under normal circumstances requires a sense of safety, perhaps for evolutionary reasons because of the vulnerability of the paralysis that is part of REM sleep stages. Fear at bedtime is common in young children, as is disorientation in the elderly. Both respond to reassuring bedtime routines done the same way every night, such as brushing teeth, changing clothes, washing up, reading or being read to, and praying – if these were the previous habit. When there has been a major disruption, these routines take on added importance, even if some modifications need to be made in sleep location, privacy, etc. Keeping schedules for naps, bedtime, and wake time as stable as possible makes sleep onset easier and sleep maintenance more likely. It also increases the chances of adequate sleep duration. Getting enough sleep stabilizes mood, reduces irritability, and improves daytime concentration and problem-solving skills. These all are especially needed by adults as well as children when there are major disruptions.

Maintaining chores at times of disruption can be extra difficult, plus this may seem to parents like an added stress for their already-stressed child. But in fact, children are reassured by adults’ continuing these requirements. Not only is an expectation that chores be done a signal that life can be expected to proceed normally, but having children do things to help – such as cleaning up, restocking soap and towels, or emptying trash – gives them an active role and hence some sense of control.

Discipline is, in essence, also a routine. Maintaining standards for kindness to others and following rules can be especially difficult when life has been disrupted because emotional lability is more likely in both adults and children when severely stressed. It is important for parents to consider the source of the misbehavior as possibly stress related and to interrupt it in a gentle and understanding way. A parent might say: “I know you are upset by all the changes. It is even more important now than ever to be kind to your brother.” Under stressful conditions, it is especially important to ask how the child was feeling when acting up, but also to “speak for them” about possible stress-related reasons for their behavior. While parents may correctly say that their child will “take advantage of this excuse,” it is still a teaching opportunity. Children have little insight into these connections to their feelings and actions, but they can learn.

Times when old patterns are disrupted also are times for making new habits. The main new habit I recommend for stress relief and overall mental health are the practices of mindfulness or meditation. Mindfulness may be easier to teach children as it involves paying close attention to one’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations, but doing this without judgment. Children often are naturally better at this than adults, who have layered on more experiences to their thoughts. We pediatricians, as well as the parents we serve, can benefit – especially in stressful times – from sharing in the simple ways children experience the world.

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

“Uncertainty creates weakness. Uncertainty makes one tentative, if not fearful, and tentative steps, even when in the right direction, may not overcome significant obstacles.”¹

Recently, I spent my vacation time quarantined reading “The Great Influenza,” which recounts the history of the 1918 pandemic. Despite over a century of scientific and medical progress, the parallels to our current situation are indisputable. Just as in 1918, we are limiting social gatherings, quarantining, wearing face masks, and living with the fear and anxiety of keeping ourselves and our families safe. In 1918, use of aspirin, quinine, and digitalis therapies in a desperate search for relief despite limited evidence mirror the current use of hydroxychloroquine, azithromycin, and lopinavir/ritonavir. While there are many similarities between the two situations, in this pandemic our channels for dissemination of scientific literature are better developed, and online networks are enabling physicians across the globe to communicate their experience and findings in near real time.

During this time of uncertainty, our understanding of COVID-19 evolves daily. Without the advantage of robust randomized, controlled trials and large-scale studies to guide us, we are forced to rely on pattern recognition for surveillance and anecdotal or limited case-based accounts to guide clinical care. Fortunately, free open-access medical education (FOAM) and social networks offer a significant advantage in our ability to collect and disseminate information.
 

Free open access medical education

The concept of FOAM started in 2012 with the intent of creating a collaborative and constantly evolving community to provide open-access medical education. It encompasses multiple platforms – blogs, podcasts, videos, and social media – and features content experts from across the globe. Since its inception, FOAM has grown in popularity and use, especially within emergency medicine and critical care communities, as an adjunct for asynchronous learning.^2,3

In a time where knowledge of COVID-19 is dynamically changing, traditional sources like textbooks, journals, and organizational guidelines often lag behind real-time clinical experience and needs. Additionally, many clinicians are now being tasked with taking care of patient populations and a new critical illness profile with which they are not comfortable. It is challenging to find a well-curated and updated repository of information to answer questions surrounding pathophysiology, critical care, ventilator management, caring for adult patients, and personal protective equipment (PPE). During this rapidly evolving reality, FOAM is becoming the ideal modality for timely and efficient sharing of reviews of current literature, expert discussions, and clinical practice guidelines.

A few self-directed hours on EMCrit’s Internet Book of Critical Care’s COVID-19 chapter reveals a bastion of content regarding diagnosis, pathophysiology, transmission, therapies, and ventilator strategies.⁴ It includes references to major journals and recommendations from international societies. Websites like EMCrit and REBEL EM are updated daily with podcasts, videos, and blog posts surrounding the latest highly debated topics in COVID-19 management.⁵ Podcasts like EM:RAP and Peds RAP have made COVID segments discussing important topics like pharmacotherapy, telemedicine, and pregnancy available for free.^6,7 Many networks, institutions, and individual physicians have created and posted videos online on critical care topics and refreshers.
 

Social networks

Online social networks composed of international physicians within Facebook and LinkedIn serve as miniature publishing houses. First-hand accounts of patient presentations and patient care act as case reports. As similar accounts accumulate, they become case series. Patterns emerge and new hypotheses are generated, debated, and critiqued through this informal peer review. Personal accounts of frustration with lack of PPE, fear of exposing loved ones, distress at being separated from family, and grief of witnessing multiple patients die alone are opinion and perspective articles.

These networks offer the space for sharing. Those who have had the experience of caring for the surge of COVID-19 patients offer advice and words of caution to those who have yet to experience it. Protocols from a multitude of institutions on triage, surge, disposition, and end-of-life care are disseminated, serving as templates for those that have not yet developed their own. There is an impressive variety of innovative, do-it-yourself projects surrounding PPE, intubation boxes, and three-dimensionally printed ventilator parts.

Finally, these networks provide emotional support. There are offers to ship additional PPE, videos of cities cheering as clinicians go to work, stories of triumph and recovery, pictures depicting ongoing wellness activities, and the occasional much-needed humorous anecdote or illustration. These networks reinforce the message that our lives continue despite this upheaval, and we are not alone in this struggle.

The end of the passage in The Great Influenza concludes with: “Ultimately a scientist has nothing to believe in but the process of inquiry. To move forcefully and aggressively even while uncertain requires a confidence and strength deeper than physical courage.”

FOAM and social networks are crucial channels for collecting and conveying up-to-date information during disasters. They represent a highly adaptable, evolving, and collaborative global community’s determination to persevere through time of uncertainty together.

Dr. Ren is a pediatric emergency medicine fellow at Children’s National Hospital, Washington. Dr. Simpson is a pediatric emergency medicine attending and medical director of emergency preparedness at the hospital. They reported that they do not have any disclosures or conflicts of interest. Email Dr. Ren and Dr. Simpson at [email protected].

References

1. “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History.” (New York: Penguin Books, 2005, pp. 261-62).

2. Emerg Med J. 2014 Oct;31(e1):e76-7.

3. Acad Med. 2014 Apr;89(4):598-601.

4. “The Internet Book of Critical Care: COVID-19.” EMCrit Project.

5. “Covid-19.” REBEL EM-Emergency Medicine Blog.

6. “EM:RAP COVID-19 Resources.” EM RAP: Emergency Medicine Reviews and Perspectives.

7. “Episodes.” Peds RAP, Hippo Education.

“Uncertainty creates weakness. Uncertainty makes one tentative, if not fearful, and tentative steps, even when in the right direction, may not overcome significant obstacles.”¹

Recently, I spent my vacation time quarantined reading “The Great Influenza,” which recounts the history of the 1918 pandemic. Despite over a century of scientific and medical progress, the parallels to our current situation are indisputable. Just as in 1918, we are limiting social gatherings, quarantining, wearing face masks, and living with the fear and anxiety of keeping ourselves and our families safe. In 1918, use of aspirin, quinine, and digitalis therapies in a desperate search for relief despite limited evidence mirror the current use of hydroxychloroquine, azithromycin, and lopinavir/ritonavir. While there are many similarities between the two situations, in this pandemic our channels for dissemination of scientific literature are better developed, and online networks are enabling physicians across the globe to communicate their experience and findings in near real time.

During this time of uncertainty, our understanding of COVID-19 evolves daily. Without the advantage of robust randomized, controlled trials and large-scale studies to guide us, we are forced to rely on pattern recognition for surveillance and anecdotal or limited case-based accounts to guide clinical care. Fortunately, free open-access medical education (FOAM) and social networks offer a significant advantage in our ability to collect and disseminate information.
 

Free open access medical education

The concept of FOAM started in 2012 with the intent of creating a collaborative and constantly evolving community to provide open-access medical education. It encompasses multiple platforms – blogs, podcasts, videos, and social media – and features content experts from across the globe. Since its inception, FOAM has grown in popularity and use, especially within emergency medicine and critical care communities, as an adjunct for asynchronous learning.^2,3

In a time where knowledge of COVID-19 is dynamically changing, traditional sources like textbooks, journals, and organizational guidelines often lag behind real-time clinical experience and needs. Additionally, many clinicians are now being tasked with taking care of patient populations and a new critical illness profile with which they are not comfortable. It is challenging to find a well-curated and updated repository of information to answer questions surrounding pathophysiology, critical care, ventilator management, caring for adult patients, and personal protective equipment (PPE). During this rapidly evolving reality, FOAM is becoming the ideal modality for timely and efficient sharing of reviews of current literature, expert discussions, and clinical practice guidelines.

A few self-directed hours on EMCrit’s Internet Book of Critical Care’s COVID-19 chapter reveals a bastion of content regarding diagnosis, pathophysiology, transmission, therapies, and ventilator strategies.⁴ It includes references to major journals and recommendations from international societies. Websites like EMCrit and REBEL EM are updated daily with podcasts, videos, and blog posts surrounding the latest highly debated topics in COVID-19 management.⁵ Podcasts like EM:RAP and Peds RAP have made COVID segments discussing important topics like pharmacotherapy, telemedicine, and pregnancy available for free.^6,7 Many networks, institutions, and individual physicians have created and posted videos online on critical care topics and refreshers.
 

Social networks

Online social networks composed of international physicians within Facebook and LinkedIn serve as miniature publishing houses. First-hand accounts of patient presentations and patient care act as case reports. As similar accounts accumulate, they become case series. Patterns emerge and new hypotheses are generated, debated, and critiqued through this informal peer review. Personal accounts of frustration with lack of PPE, fear of exposing loved ones, distress at being separated from family, and grief of witnessing multiple patients die alone are opinion and perspective articles.

These networks offer the space for sharing. Those who have had the experience of caring for the surge of COVID-19 patients offer advice and words of caution to those who have yet to experience it. Protocols from a multitude of institutions on triage, surge, disposition, and end-of-life care are disseminated, serving as templates for those that have not yet developed their own. There is an impressive variety of innovative, do-it-yourself projects surrounding PPE, intubation boxes, and three-dimensionally printed ventilator parts.

Finally, these networks provide emotional support. There are offers to ship additional PPE, videos of cities cheering as clinicians go to work, stories of triumph and recovery, pictures depicting ongoing wellness activities, and the occasional much-needed humorous anecdote or illustration. These networks reinforce the message that our lives continue despite this upheaval, and we are not alone in this struggle.

The end of the passage in The Great Influenza concludes with: “Ultimately a scientist has nothing to believe in but the process of inquiry. To move forcefully and aggressively even while uncertain requires a confidence and strength deeper than physical courage.”

FOAM and social networks are crucial channels for collecting and conveying up-to-date information during disasters. They represent a highly adaptable, evolving, and collaborative global community’s determination to persevere through time of uncertainty together.

Dr. Ren is a pediatric emergency medicine fellow at Children’s National Hospital, Washington. Dr. Simpson is a pediatric emergency medicine attending and medical director of emergency preparedness at the hospital. They reported that they do not have any disclosures or conflicts of interest. Email Dr. Ren and Dr. Simpson at [email protected].

References

1. “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History.” (New York: Penguin Books, 2005, pp. 261-62).

2. Emerg Med J. 2014 Oct;31(e1):e76-7.

3. Acad Med. 2014 Apr;89(4):598-601.

4. “The Internet Book of Critical Care: COVID-19.” EMCrit Project.

5. “Covid-19.” REBEL EM-Emergency Medicine Blog.

6. “EM:RAP COVID-19 Resources.” EM RAP: Emergency Medicine Reviews and Perspectives.

7. “Episodes.” Peds RAP, Hippo Education.

“Uncertainty creates weakness. Uncertainty makes one tentative, if not fearful, and tentative steps, even when in the right direction, may not overcome significant obstacles.”¹

Recently, I spent my vacation time quarantined reading “The Great Influenza,” which recounts the history of the 1918 pandemic. Despite over a century of scientific and medical progress, the parallels to our current situation are indisputable. Just as in 1918, we are limiting social gatherings, quarantining, wearing face masks, and living with the fear and anxiety of keeping ourselves and our families safe. In 1918, use of aspirin, quinine, and digitalis therapies in a desperate search for relief despite limited evidence mirror the current use of hydroxychloroquine, azithromycin, and lopinavir/ritonavir. While there are many similarities between the two situations, in this pandemic our channels for dissemination of scientific literature are better developed, and online networks are enabling physicians across the globe to communicate their experience and findings in near real time.

During this time of uncertainty, our understanding of COVID-19 evolves daily. Without the advantage of robust randomized, controlled trials and large-scale studies to guide us, we are forced to rely on pattern recognition for surveillance and anecdotal or limited case-based accounts to guide clinical care. Fortunately, free open-access medical education (FOAM) and social networks offer a significant advantage in our ability to collect and disseminate information.
 

Free open access medical education

The concept of FOAM started in 2012 with the intent of creating a collaborative and constantly evolving community to provide open-access medical education. It encompasses multiple platforms – blogs, podcasts, videos, and social media – and features content experts from across the globe. Since its inception, FOAM has grown in popularity and use, especially within emergency medicine and critical care communities, as an adjunct for asynchronous learning.^2,3

In a time where knowledge of COVID-19 is dynamically changing, traditional sources like textbooks, journals, and organizational guidelines often lag behind real-time clinical experience and needs. Additionally, many clinicians are now being tasked with taking care of patient populations and a new critical illness profile with which they are not comfortable. It is challenging to find a well-curated and updated repository of information to answer questions surrounding pathophysiology, critical care, ventilator management, caring for adult patients, and personal protective equipment (PPE). During this rapidly evolving reality, FOAM is becoming the ideal modality for timely and efficient sharing of reviews of current literature, expert discussions, and clinical practice guidelines.

A few self-directed hours on EMCrit’s Internet Book of Critical Care’s COVID-19 chapter reveals a bastion of content regarding diagnosis, pathophysiology, transmission, therapies, and ventilator strategies.⁴ It includes references to major journals and recommendations from international societies. Websites like EMCrit and REBEL EM are updated daily with podcasts, videos, and blog posts surrounding the latest highly debated topics in COVID-19 management.⁵ Podcasts like EM:RAP and Peds RAP have made COVID segments discussing important topics like pharmacotherapy, telemedicine, and pregnancy available for free.^6,7 Many networks, institutions, and individual physicians have created and posted videos online on critical care topics and refreshers.
 

Social networks

Online social networks composed of international physicians within Facebook and LinkedIn serve as miniature publishing houses. First-hand accounts of patient presentations and patient care act as case reports. As similar accounts accumulate, they become case series. Patterns emerge and new hypotheses are generated, debated, and critiqued through this informal peer review. Personal accounts of frustration with lack of PPE, fear of exposing loved ones, distress at being separated from family, and grief of witnessing multiple patients die alone are opinion and perspective articles.

These networks offer the space for sharing. Those who have had the experience of caring for the surge of COVID-19 patients offer advice and words of caution to those who have yet to experience it. Protocols from a multitude of institutions on triage, surge, disposition, and end-of-life care are disseminated, serving as templates for those that have not yet developed their own. There is an impressive variety of innovative, do-it-yourself projects surrounding PPE, intubation boxes, and three-dimensionally printed ventilator parts.

Finally, these networks provide emotional support. There are offers to ship additional PPE, videos of cities cheering as clinicians go to work, stories of triumph and recovery, pictures depicting ongoing wellness activities, and the occasional much-needed humorous anecdote or illustration. These networks reinforce the message that our lives continue despite this upheaval, and we are not alone in this struggle.

The end of the passage in The Great Influenza concludes with: “Ultimately a scientist has nothing to believe in but the process of inquiry. To move forcefully and aggressively even while uncertain requires a confidence and strength deeper than physical courage.”

FOAM and social networks are crucial channels for collecting and conveying up-to-date information during disasters. They represent a highly adaptable, evolving, and collaborative global community’s determination to persevere through time of uncertainty together.

Dr. Ren is a pediatric emergency medicine fellow at Children’s National Hospital, Washington. Dr. Simpson is a pediatric emergency medicine attending and medical director of emergency preparedness at the hospital. They reported that they do not have any disclosures or conflicts of interest. Email Dr. Ren and Dr. Simpson at [email protected].

References

1. “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History.” (New York: Penguin Books, 2005, pp. 261-62).

2. Emerg Med J. 2014 Oct;31(e1):e76-7.

3. Acad Med. 2014 Apr;89(4):598-601.

4. “The Internet Book of Critical Care: COVID-19.” EMCrit Project.

5. “Covid-19.” REBEL EM-Emergency Medicine Blog.

6. “EM:RAP COVID-19 Resources.” EM RAP: Emergency Medicine Reviews and Perspectives.

7. “Episodes.” Peds RAP, Hippo Education.

Empty shelves that once cradled toilet paper rolls; lines of shoppers, some with masks; waiting 6 feet or at least a shopping cart length apart to get into grocery stores; hazmat-suited workers loading body bags into makeshift mortuaries ... These are the images we have come to associate with the COVID-19 pandemic. But then there also are the graphs and charts, none of them bearing good news. Some are difficult to interpret because they may be missing a key ingredient, such as a scale. Day to day fluctuations in the timeliness of the data points can make valid comparisons impossible. In most cases, it is too early to look at the graphs and hope for the big picture. Whether you are concerned about the stock market or the number of new cases of the virus in your county, you are hoping to see some graphic depiction of a favorable trend.

Richard McMillin/iStock Editorial/Getty Images

We have suddenly learned about the urgency of a process called “flattening the curve.” Are we doing as good a job of flattening as we could be? Are we doing better than France or Spain? Or are we heading toward an Italianesque apocalypse? Who is going to tell us when the flattening is for real and not just a 2- or 3-day statistical aberration?

The curves we are obsessed with today are those showing us new cases and new deaths. But there is another curve that we will need to concentrate on long after the much yearned for flattening of the death curve has been achieved. And we won’t be seeing this curve in four-color graphics on the front page of our newspapers. It is the learning curve, and we want it to be as steep as we can make it without any hint of flattening in the foreseeable future.

We need to learn more about corona-like viruses. Why are some of us more vulnerable? We need to learn more about contagion. Does the 6-foot guideline make any sense? How long are viral particles floating in the air capable of initiating disease? What about air flow and dilution? Can we build a cruise ship or airplane that will be less of a health hazard?

More importantly, we need to learn to be better prepared. Even before the pandemic there have been shortages in intravenous solutions and drugs of critical importance to common diseases. Can we learn how to create reliable and affordable supply chains that allow researchers and developers to make a reasonable profit? Can we relearn to value science? Can we learn to invest more heavily in epidemiology and make it a specialty that attracts our best thinkers and communicators? Then can we elect officials who will share our trust in their recommendations?

Can we do a better job of resolving the tension between those who believe in a strong federal government and those who believe in local autonomy because we are seeing every day that this is an issue of survival, not just coexistence? Can we learn that the globalization that has allowed this viral spread can also be leveraged to beat it into submission?

Over the last half century there has been an unfortunate flattening of the learning curve. Ironically we have seen exponential growth among hi-tech industries that have forced us to keep abreast of new developments. But along with this has been a growing skepticism about value of scientific investigation. It is time we climbed back on that steep learning curve. The view gets better the higher we climb.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at [email protected].

Empty shelves that once cradled toilet paper rolls; lines of shoppers, some with masks; waiting 6 feet or at least a shopping cart length apart to get into grocery stores; hazmat-suited workers loading body bags into makeshift mortuaries ... These are the images we have come to associate with the COVID-19 pandemic. But then there also are the graphs and charts, none of them bearing good news. Some are difficult to interpret because they may be missing a key ingredient, such as a scale. Day to day fluctuations in the timeliness of the data points can make valid comparisons impossible. In most cases, it is too early to look at the graphs and hope for the big picture. Whether you are concerned about the stock market or the number of new cases of the virus in your county, you are hoping to see some graphic depiction of a favorable trend.

Richard McMillin/iStock Editorial/Getty Images

We have suddenly learned about the urgency of a process called “flattening the curve.” Are we doing as good a job of flattening as we could be? Are we doing better than France or Spain? Or are we heading toward an Italianesque apocalypse? Who is going to tell us when the flattening is for real and not just a 2- or 3-day statistical aberration?

The curves we are obsessed with today are those showing us new cases and new deaths. But there is another curve that we will need to concentrate on long after the much yearned for flattening of the death curve has been achieved. And we won’t be seeing this curve in four-color graphics on the front page of our newspapers. It is the learning curve, and we want it to be as steep as we can make it without any hint of flattening in the foreseeable future.

We need to learn more about corona-like viruses. Why are some of us more vulnerable? We need to learn more about contagion. Does the 6-foot guideline make any sense? How long are viral particles floating in the air capable of initiating disease? What about air flow and dilution? Can we build a cruise ship or airplane that will be less of a health hazard?

More importantly, we need to learn to be better prepared. Even before the pandemic there have been shortages in intravenous solutions and drugs of critical importance to common diseases. Can we learn how to create reliable and affordable supply chains that allow researchers and developers to make a reasonable profit? Can we relearn to value science? Can we learn to invest more heavily in epidemiology and make it a specialty that attracts our best thinkers and communicators? Then can we elect officials who will share our trust in their recommendations?

Can we do a better job of resolving the tension between those who believe in a strong federal government and those who believe in local autonomy because we are seeing every day that this is an issue of survival, not just coexistence? Can we learn that the globalization that has allowed this viral spread can also be leveraged to beat it into submission?

Over the last half century there has been an unfortunate flattening of the learning curve. Ironically we have seen exponential growth among hi-tech industries that have forced us to keep abreast of new developments. But along with this has been a growing skepticism about value of scientific investigation. It is time we climbed back on that steep learning curve. The view gets better the higher we climb.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at [email protected].

Empty shelves that once cradled toilet paper rolls; lines of shoppers, some with masks; waiting 6 feet or at least a shopping cart length apart to get into grocery stores; hazmat-suited workers loading body bags into makeshift mortuaries ... These are the images we have come to associate with the COVID-19 pandemic. But then there also are the graphs and charts, none of them bearing good news. Some are difficult to interpret because they may be missing a key ingredient, such as a scale. Day to day fluctuations in the timeliness of the data points can make valid comparisons impossible. In most cases, it is too early to look at the graphs and hope for the big picture. Whether you are concerned about the stock market or the number of new cases of the virus in your county, you are hoping to see some graphic depiction of a favorable trend.

Richard McMillin/iStock Editorial/Getty Images

We have suddenly learned about the urgency of a process called “flattening the curve.” Are we doing as good a job of flattening as we could be? Are we doing better than France or Spain? Or are we heading toward an Italianesque apocalypse? Who is going to tell us when the flattening is for real and not just a 2- or 3-day statistical aberration?

The curves we are obsessed with today are those showing us new cases and new deaths. But there is another curve that we will need to concentrate on long after the much yearned for flattening of the death curve has been achieved. And we won’t be seeing this curve in four-color graphics on the front page of our newspapers. It is the learning curve, and we want it to be as steep as we can make it without any hint of flattening in the foreseeable future.

We need to learn more about corona-like viruses. Why are some of us more vulnerable? We need to learn more about contagion. Does the 6-foot guideline make any sense? How long are viral particles floating in the air capable of initiating disease? What about air flow and dilution? Can we build a cruise ship or airplane that will be less of a health hazard?

More importantly, we need to learn to be better prepared. Even before the pandemic there have been shortages in intravenous solutions and drugs of critical importance to common diseases. Can we learn how to create reliable and affordable supply chains that allow researchers and developers to make a reasonable profit? Can we relearn to value science? Can we learn to invest more heavily in epidemiology and make it a specialty that attracts our best thinkers and communicators? Then can we elect officials who will share our trust in their recommendations?

Can we do a better job of resolving the tension between those who believe in a strong federal government and those who believe in local autonomy because we are seeing every day that this is an issue of survival, not just coexistence? Can we learn that the globalization that has allowed this viral spread can also be leveraged to beat it into submission?

Over the last half century there has been an unfortunate flattening of the learning curve. Ironically we have seen exponential growth among hi-tech industries that have forced us to keep abreast of new developments. But along with this has been a growing skepticism about value of scientific investigation. It is time we climbed back on that steep learning curve. The view gets better the higher we climb.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at [email protected].