Perspectives

In my mind’s calendar, two dates stand out. Both far enough away that I don’t have to think about them too much right now, but near enough that they can’t be forgotten about, either.

On September 30, 2028, my office lease ends, and in 2029 my neurology board certification has to be renewed. I’ll be in my early 60s then and I’ve been a practicing neurologist for 30 years.

I have no idea what I’m going to do. Of course, a lot can happen between now and then, and a lot of variables come into the calculus of when to retire.

After all these years, I still enjoy my job. It gives me the purpose that I wanted so long ago when I applied to medical school. The late William Pancoe, associate dean when I was at Creighton, always told us to remember how we felt when we got that acceptance letter — we’d need it to keep us going through medical school.

And, even now, I still remember the call from my dad that it had arrived. What a moment that was. I have no regrets. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

But in 4 years how much longer will I want to practice? Hopefully I’ll be faced with that decision. Will I want to renew the lease for 2 years? 5 years? I like my little office. It’s far from gleaming, there’s no TV or Keurig in the lobby, the carpet, paint, and furnishings are still from the early 90s when the place was built. But it’s my home away from home. I spend anywhere from 40-60 hours/week there. It’s quiet and (at least for me) cozy. Would I want to give that up and move to a smaller, shared place, for the remainder of my career? Or just close down?

Likewise, will I want to renew my board certification? Granted, that isn’t necessary to practice, but it certainly looks better to have it. To do that I’ll have to fork over a decent chunk of change to take the test, more money for a review course, and spend some time studying. Strange to think that at 63 I might be back at my desk (same desk, by the way) studying for a test like I did in college and medical school. But, if I want to keep playing doctor, that’s what I’ll have to do.

Four years to think about this. The same amount of time I spent each in high school, medical school, and residency. For that matter, the same amount of time since we all went into quarantine.

Doesn’t seem that long, does it?

I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

In my mind’s calendar, two dates stand out. Both far enough away that I don’t have to think about them too much right now, but near enough that they can’t be forgotten about, either.

On September 30, 2028, my office lease ends, and in 2029 my neurology board certification has to be renewed. I’ll be in my early 60s then and I’ve been a practicing neurologist for 30 years.

I have no idea what I’m going to do. Of course, a lot can happen between now and then, and a lot of variables come into the calculus of when to retire.

After all these years, I still enjoy my job. It gives me the purpose that I wanted so long ago when I applied to medical school. The late William Pancoe, associate dean when I was at Creighton, always told us to remember how we felt when we got that acceptance letter — we’d need it to keep us going through medical school.

And, even now, I still remember the call from my dad that it had arrived. What a moment that was. I have no regrets. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

But in 4 years how much longer will I want to practice? Hopefully I’ll be faced with that decision. Will I want to renew the lease for 2 years? 5 years? I like my little office. It’s far from gleaming, there’s no TV or Keurig in the lobby, the carpet, paint, and furnishings are still from the early 90s when the place was built. But it’s my home away from home. I spend anywhere from 40-60 hours/week there. It’s quiet and (at least for me) cozy. Would I want to give that up and move to a smaller, shared place, for the remainder of my career? Or just close down?

Likewise, will I want to renew my board certification? Granted, that isn’t necessary to practice, but it certainly looks better to have it. To do that I’ll have to fork over a decent chunk of change to take the test, more money for a review course, and spend some time studying. Strange to think that at 63 I might be back at my desk (same desk, by the way) studying for a test like I did in college and medical school. But, if I want to keep playing doctor, that’s what I’ll have to do.

Four years to think about this. The same amount of time I spent each in high school, medical school, and residency. For that matter, the same amount of time since we all went into quarantine.

Doesn’t seem that long, does it?

I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

In my mind’s calendar, two dates stand out. Both far enough away that I don’t have to think about them too much right now, but near enough that they can’t be forgotten about, either.

On September 30, 2028, my office lease ends, and in 2029 my neurology board certification has to be renewed. I’ll be in my early 60s then and I’ve been a practicing neurologist for 30 years.

I have no idea what I’m going to do. Of course, a lot can happen between now and then, and a lot of variables come into the calculus of when to retire.

After all these years, I still enjoy my job. It gives me the purpose that I wanted so long ago when I applied to medical school. The late William Pancoe, associate dean when I was at Creighton, always told us to remember how we felt when we got that acceptance letter — we’d need it to keep us going through medical school.

And, even now, I still remember the call from my dad that it had arrived. What a moment that was. I have no regrets. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

But in 4 years how much longer will I want to practice? Hopefully I’ll be faced with that decision. Will I want to renew the lease for 2 years? 5 years? I like my little office. It’s far from gleaming, there’s no TV or Keurig in the lobby, the carpet, paint, and furnishings are still from the early 90s when the place was built. But it’s my home away from home. I spend anywhere from 40-60 hours/week there. It’s quiet and (at least for me) cozy. Would I want to give that up and move to a smaller, shared place, for the remainder of my career? Or just close down?

Likewise, will I want to renew my board certification? Granted, that isn’t necessary to practice, but it certainly looks better to have it. To do that I’ll have to fork over a decent chunk of change to take the test, more money for a review course, and spend some time studying. Strange to think that at 63 I might be back at my desk (same desk, by the way) studying for a test like I did in college and medical school. But, if I want to keep playing doctor, that’s what I’ll have to do.

Four years to think about this. The same amount of time I spent each in high school, medical school, and residency. For that matter, the same amount of time since we all went into quarantine.

Doesn’t seem that long, does it?

I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Has COVID replaced syphilis as the great imitator? At the turn of the 20th century, Sir William Osler was quoted as saying, “He who knows syphilis knows medicine.”

If you have any doubts about the “imitator” analogy, simply use any broad search engine or AI portal and enter “what is the differential diagnosis of primary syphilis, or secondary syphilis, or tertiary syphilis?” A plethora of diseases across many body systems appears.
 

Another Great Pretender?

Did you or do you now have long COVID? How do you know? Do you even know what long COVID is? How would you diagnosis it?

When asked about long COVID, this is what large language model source bard.google.com had to say:

Long COVID, also known as post-COVID conditions or PASC, is a complex condition that can occur in people who have had COVID-19, even if their initial illness was mild or even asymptomatic. It’s characterized by a wide range of symptoms that can last for weeks, months, or even years after the initial infection.

Symptoms of long COVID can include: fatigue, shortness of breath, brain fog (trouble thinking or concentrating), loss of smell or taste, sleep problems, muscle pain, joint pain, headache, dizziness, depression or anxiety, heart palpitations, gastrointestinal problems.

Duh!!! It reads much like a continuation of the symptoms of acute COVID. Bard continued:

The exact cause of long COVID is still unknown, but there are several theories. One possibility is that the virus itself can damage organs and tissues, leading to ongoing symptoms. Another possibility is that the immune system’s response to the virus can continue to cause inflammation even after the virus is gone.

Human intelligence source Wikipedia says this:

Long COVID or long-haul COVID is a group of health problems persisting or developing after an initial COVID-19 infection. Symptoms can last weeks, months or years and are often debilitating. The World Health Organization defines long COVID as starting three months after infection, but other definitions put the start of long COVID at four weeks.

Highly varied, including post-exertional malaise (symptoms made worse with effort), fatigue, muscle pain, shortness of breath, chest pain, and cognitive dysfunction (brain fog).
 

Acute COVID to Long COVID

The World Health Organization estimates that 36 million people in the European region have developed long COVID in the first 3 years of the pandemic. That›s a lot.

We all know that the common signs and symptoms of acute COVID-19 include fever or chills, a dry cough and shortness of breath, feeling very tired, muscle or body aches, headache, loss of taste or smell, sore throat, congestion, runny nose, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. Except for the taste and smell findings, every one of these symptoms or signs could indicate a different virus infection or even some type of allergy. My point is the nonspecificity in this list.

Uncommon signs and symptoms of acute COVID include a flat skin rash covered with small bumps, discolored swollen areas on the fingers and toes (COVID toes), and hives. The skin of hands, wrists, or ankles also can be affected. Blisters, itchiness, rough skin, or pus can be seen.

Severe confusion (delirium) might be the main or only symptom of COVID-19 in older people. This COVID-19 symptom is linked with a high risk for poor outcomes, including death. Pink eye (conjunctivitis) can be a COVID-19 symptom. Other eye problems linked to COVID-19 are light sensitivity, sore eyes, and itchy eyes. Acute myocarditis, tinnitus, vertigo, and hearing loss have been reported. And 1-4 weeks after the onset of COVID-19 infection, a patient may experience de novo reactive synovitis and arthritis of any joints.

So, take your pick. Myriad symptoms, signs, diseases, diagnoses, and organ systems — still present, recurring, just appearing, apparently de novo, or after asymptomatic infection. We have so much still to learn.

What big-time symptoms, signs, and major diseases are not on any of these lists? Obviously, cancer, atherosclerotic cardiovascular diseases, obesity, bone diseases, and competitive infections. But be patient; the lingering effects of direct tissue invasion by the virus as well as a wide range of immunologic reactions may just be getting started. Mitochondrial damage, especially in muscles, is increasingly a pathophysiologic suspect.

Human diseases can be physical or mental; and in COVID, that twain not only meet but mix and mingle freely, and may even merge into psychosoma. Don’t ever forget that. Consider “fatigue.” Who among us, COVID or NOVID, does not experience that from time to time?

Or consider brain fog as a common reported symptom of COVID. What on earth is that actually? How can a person know they have brain fog, or whether they had it and are over it?

We need one or more lab or other diagnostic tests that can objectively confirm the diagnosis of long COVID.
 

Useful Progress?

A recent research paper in Science reported intriguing chemical findings that seemed to point a finger at some form of complement dysregulation as a potential disease marker for long COVID. Unfortunately, some critics have pointed out that this entire study may be invalid or irrelevant because the New York cohort was recruited in 2020, before vaccines were available. The Zurich cohort was recruited up until April 2021, so some may have been vaccinated.

Then this news organization came along in early January 2024 with an article about COVID causing not only more than a million American deaths but also more than 5000 deaths from long COVID. We physicians don’t really know what long COVID even is, but we have to sign death certificates blaming thousands of deaths on it anyway? And rolling back the clock to 2020: Are patients dying from COVID or with COVID, according to death certificates?Now, armed with the knowledge that “documented serious post–COVID-19 conditions include cardiovascular, pulmonary, neurological, renal, endocrine, hematological, and gastrointestinal complications, as well as death,” CDC has published clear and fairly concise instructions on how to address post-acute COVID sequelae on death certificates.

In late January, this news organization painted a hopeful picture by naming four phenotypes of long COVID, suggesting that such divisions might further our understanding, including prognosis, and even therapy for this condition. Among the clinical phenotypes of (1) chronic fatigue–like syndrome, headache, and memory loss; (2) respiratory syndrome (which includes cough and difficulty breathing); (3) chronic pain; and (4) neurosensorial syndrome (which causes an altered sense of taste and smell), overlap is clearly possible but isn›t addressed.

I see these recent developments as needed and useful progress, but we are still left with…not much. So, when you tell me that you do or do not have long COVID, I will say to you, “How do you know?”

I also say: She/he/they who know COVID know medicine.

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

Has COVID replaced syphilis as the great imitator? At the turn of the 20th century, Sir William Osler was quoted as saying, “He who knows syphilis knows medicine.”

If you have any doubts about the “imitator” analogy, simply use any broad search engine or AI portal and enter “what is the differential diagnosis of primary syphilis, or secondary syphilis, or tertiary syphilis?” A plethora of diseases across many body systems appears.
 

Another Great Pretender?

Did you or do you now have long COVID? How do you know? Do you even know what long COVID is? How would you diagnosis it?

When asked about long COVID, this is what large language model source bard.google.com had to say:

Long COVID, also known as post-COVID conditions or PASC, is a complex condition that can occur in people who have had COVID-19, even if their initial illness was mild or even asymptomatic. It’s characterized by a wide range of symptoms that can last for weeks, months, or even years after the initial infection.

Symptoms of long COVID can include: fatigue, shortness of breath, brain fog (trouble thinking or concentrating), loss of smell or taste, sleep problems, muscle pain, joint pain, headache, dizziness, depression or anxiety, heart palpitations, gastrointestinal problems.

Duh!!! It reads much like a continuation of the symptoms of acute COVID. Bard continued:

The exact cause of long COVID is still unknown, but there are several theories. One possibility is that the virus itself can damage organs and tissues, leading to ongoing symptoms. Another possibility is that the immune system’s response to the virus can continue to cause inflammation even after the virus is gone.

Human intelligence source Wikipedia says this:

Long COVID or long-haul COVID is a group of health problems persisting or developing after an initial COVID-19 infection. Symptoms can last weeks, months or years and are often debilitating. The World Health Organization defines long COVID as starting three months after infection, but other definitions put the start of long COVID at four weeks.

Highly varied, including post-exertional malaise (symptoms made worse with effort), fatigue, muscle pain, shortness of breath, chest pain, and cognitive dysfunction (brain fog).
 

Acute COVID to Long COVID

The World Health Organization estimates that 36 million people in the European region have developed long COVID in the first 3 years of the pandemic. That›s a lot.

We all know that the common signs and symptoms of acute COVID-19 include fever or chills, a dry cough and shortness of breath, feeling very tired, muscle or body aches, headache, loss of taste or smell, sore throat, congestion, runny nose, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. Except for the taste and smell findings, every one of these symptoms or signs could indicate a different virus infection or even some type of allergy. My point is the nonspecificity in this list.

Uncommon signs and symptoms of acute COVID include a flat skin rash covered with small bumps, discolored swollen areas on the fingers and toes (COVID toes), and hives. The skin of hands, wrists, or ankles also can be affected. Blisters, itchiness, rough skin, or pus can be seen.

Severe confusion (delirium) might be the main or only symptom of COVID-19 in older people. This COVID-19 symptom is linked with a high risk for poor outcomes, including death. Pink eye (conjunctivitis) can be a COVID-19 symptom. Other eye problems linked to COVID-19 are light sensitivity, sore eyes, and itchy eyes. Acute myocarditis, tinnitus, vertigo, and hearing loss have been reported. And 1-4 weeks after the onset of COVID-19 infection, a patient may experience de novo reactive synovitis and arthritis of any joints.

So, take your pick. Myriad symptoms, signs, diseases, diagnoses, and organ systems — still present, recurring, just appearing, apparently de novo, or after asymptomatic infection. We have so much still to learn.

What big-time symptoms, signs, and major diseases are not on any of these lists? Obviously, cancer, atherosclerotic cardiovascular diseases, obesity, bone diseases, and competitive infections. But be patient; the lingering effects of direct tissue invasion by the virus as well as a wide range of immunologic reactions may just be getting started. Mitochondrial damage, especially in muscles, is increasingly a pathophysiologic suspect.

Human diseases can be physical or mental; and in COVID, that twain not only meet but mix and mingle freely, and may even merge into psychosoma. Don’t ever forget that. Consider “fatigue.” Who among us, COVID or NOVID, does not experience that from time to time?

Or consider brain fog as a common reported symptom of COVID. What on earth is that actually? How can a person know they have brain fog, or whether they had it and are over it?

We need one or more lab or other diagnostic tests that can objectively confirm the diagnosis of long COVID.
 

Useful Progress?

A recent research paper in Science reported intriguing chemical findings that seemed to point a finger at some form of complement dysregulation as a potential disease marker for long COVID. Unfortunately, some critics have pointed out that this entire study may be invalid or irrelevant because the New York cohort was recruited in 2020, before vaccines were available. The Zurich cohort was recruited up until April 2021, so some may have been vaccinated.

Then this news organization came along in early January 2024 with an article about COVID causing not only more than a million American deaths but also more than 5000 deaths from long COVID. We physicians don’t really know what long COVID even is, but we have to sign death certificates blaming thousands of deaths on it anyway? And rolling back the clock to 2020: Are patients dying from COVID or with COVID, according to death certificates?Now, armed with the knowledge that “documented serious post–COVID-19 conditions include cardiovascular, pulmonary, neurological, renal, endocrine, hematological, and gastrointestinal complications, as well as death,” CDC has published clear and fairly concise instructions on how to address post-acute COVID sequelae on death certificates.

In late January, this news organization painted a hopeful picture by naming four phenotypes of long COVID, suggesting that such divisions might further our understanding, including prognosis, and even therapy for this condition. Among the clinical phenotypes of (1) chronic fatigue–like syndrome, headache, and memory loss; (2) respiratory syndrome (which includes cough and difficulty breathing); (3) chronic pain; and (4) neurosensorial syndrome (which causes an altered sense of taste and smell), overlap is clearly possible but isn›t addressed.

I see these recent developments as needed and useful progress, but we are still left with…not much. So, when you tell me that you do or do not have long COVID, I will say to you, “How do you know?”

I also say: She/he/they who know COVID know medicine.

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

Has COVID replaced syphilis as the great imitator? At the turn of the 20th century, Sir William Osler was quoted as saying, “He who knows syphilis knows medicine.”

If you have any doubts about the “imitator” analogy, simply use any broad search engine or AI portal and enter “what is the differential diagnosis of primary syphilis, or secondary syphilis, or tertiary syphilis?” A plethora of diseases across many body systems appears.
 

Another Great Pretender?

Did you or do you now have long COVID? How do you know? Do you even know what long COVID is? How would you diagnosis it?

When asked about long COVID, this is what large language model source bard.google.com had to say:

Long COVID, also known as post-COVID conditions or PASC, is a complex condition that can occur in people who have had COVID-19, even if their initial illness was mild or even asymptomatic. It’s characterized by a wide range of symptoms that can last for weeks, months, or even years after the initial infection.

Symptoms of long COVID can include: fatigue, shortness of breath, brain fog (trouble thinking or concentrating), loss of smell or taste, sleep problems, muscle pain, joint pain, headache, dizziness, depression or anxiety, heart palpitations, gastrointestinal problems.

Duh!!! It reads much like a continuation of the symptoms of acute COVID. Bard continued:

The exact cause of long COVID is still unknown, but there are several theories. One possibility is that the virus itself can damage organs and tissues, leading to ongoing symptoms. Another possibility is that the immune system’s response to the virus can continue to cause inflammation even after the virus is gone.

Human intelligence source Wikipedia says this:

Long COVID or long-haul COVID is a group of health problems persisting or developing after an initial COVID-19 infection. Symptoms can last weeks, months or years and are often debilitating. The World Health Organization defines long COVID as starting three months after infection, but other definitions put the start of long COVID at four weeks.

Highly varied, including post-exertional malaise (symptoms made worse with effort), fatigue, muscle pain, shortness of breath, chest pain, and cognitive dysfunction (brain fog).
 

Acute COVID to Long COVID

The World Health Organization estimates that 36 million people in the European region have developed long COVID in the first 3 years of the pandemic. That›s a lot.

We all know that the common signs and symptoms of acute COVID-19 include fever or chills, a dry cough and shortness of breath, feeling very tired, muscle or body aches, headache, loss of taste or smell, sore throat, congestion, runny nose, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. Except for the taste and smell findings, every one of these symptoms or signs could indicate a different virus infection or even some type of allergy. My point is the nonspecificity in this list.

Uncommon signs and symptoms of acute COVID include a flat skin rash covered with small bumps, discolored swollen areas on the fingers and toes (COVID toes), and hives. The skin of hands, wrists, or ankles also can be affected. Blisters, itchiness, rough skin, or pus can be seen.

Severe confusion (delirium) might be the main or only symptom of COVID-19 in older people. This COVID-19 symptom is linked with a high risk for poor outcomes, including death. Pink eye (conjunctivitis) can be a COVID-19 symptom. Other eye problems linked to COVID-19 are light sensitivity, sore eyes, and itchy eyes. Acute myocarditis, tinnitus, vertigo, and hearing loss have been reported. And 1-4 weeks after the onset of COVID-19 infection, a patient may experience de novo reactive synovitis and arthritis of any joints.

So, take your pick. Myriad symptoms, signs, diseases, diagnoses, and organ systems — still present, recurring, just appearing, apparently de novo, or after asymptomatic infection. We have so much still to learn.

What big-time symptoms, signs, and major diseases are not on any of these lists? Obviously, cancer, atherosclerotic cardiovascular diseases, obesity, bone diseases, and competitive infections. But be patient; the lingering effects of direct tissue invasion by the virus as well as a wide range of immunologic reactions may just be getting started. Mitochondrial damage, especially in muscles, is increasingly a pathophysiologic suspect.

Human diseases can be physical or mental; and in COVID, that twain not only meet but mix and mingle freely, and may even merge into psychosoma. Don’t ever forget that. Consider “fatigue.” Who among us, COVID or NOVID, does not experience that from time to time?

Or consider brain fog as a common reported symptom of COVID. What on earth is that actually? How can a person know they have brain fog, or whether they had it and are over it?

We need one or more lab or other diagnostic tests that can objectively confirm the diagnosis of long COVID.
 

Useful Progress?

A recent research paper in Science reported intriguing chemical findings that seemed to point a finger at some form of complement dysregulation as a potential disease marker for long COVID. Unfortunately, some critics have pointed out that this entire study may be invalid or irrelevant because the New York cohort was recruited in 2020, before vaccines were available. The Zurich cohort was recruited up until April 2021, so some may have been vaccinated.

Then this news organization came along in early January 2024 with an article about COVID causing not only more than a million American deaths but also more than 5000 deaths from long COVID. We physicians don’t really know what long COVID even is, but we have to sign death certificates blaming thousands of deaths on it anyway? And rolling back the clock to 2020: Are patients dying from COVID or with COVID, according to death certificates?Now, armed with the knowledge that “documented serious post–COVID-19 conditions include cardiovascular, pulmonary, neurological, renal, endocrine, hematological, and gastrointestinal complications, as well as death,” CDC has published clear and fairly concise instructions on how to address post-acute COVID sequelae on death certificates.

In late January, this news organization painted a hopeful picture by naming four phenotypes of long COVID, suggesting that such divisions might further our understanding, including prognosis, and even therapy for this condition. Among the clinical phenotypes of (1) chronic fatigue–like syndrome, headache, and memory loss; (2) respiratory syndrome (which includes cough and difficulty breathing); (3) chronic pain; and (4) neurosensorial syndrome (which causes an altered sense of taste and smell), overlap is clearly possible but isn›t addressed.

I see these recent developments as needed and useful progress, but we are still left with…not much. So, when you tell me that you do or do not have long COVID, I will say to you, “How do you know?”

I also say: She/he/they who know COVID know medicine.

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

Blue Hill is a small idyllic town a little less than two and a half hours Down East the coast from where I am sitting here in Harpswell. Thanks to gentrification it tends to lean left politically, but like the rest of Maine most folks in the surrounding communities often don’t know or care much about their neighbor’s party affiliation. Its library, founded in 1796, is well funded and a source of civic pride.

One day a couple of years ago, the library director received a donated book from a patron. Although he personally didn’t agree with the book’s message, he felt it deserved a space in their collection dealing with the subject. What happened in the wake of this donation is an ugly tale. Some community members objected to the book and asked that it be removed from the shelves, or at least kept under the desk and loaned out only on request.

The objectors, many of whom knew the director, were confrontational. The collections committee unanimously supported his decision. Some committee members also received similar responses from community members. Remember, this is a small town.

A request for support sent to the American Library Association was basically ignored. Over the next 2 years things have quieted, but fractured friendships and relationships in this quiet coastal Maine town have not been repaired. However, as the librarian has observed, “intellectual freedom or the freedom of speech isn’t there just to protect the ideas that we like.”

While the title of the book may feel inflammatory to some, every publisher hopes to grab the market’s attention with a hot title. The cause of this sad situation in Blue Hill was not a white supremacist’s polemic offering specific ways to create genocide. This was a book suggesting that gender dysphoria presenting in adolescence may have multiple causes and raises concerns about the wisdom of the pace of some gender-affirming care.

Clearly the topic of gender dysphoria in adolescence has become a third rail that must be approached with caution or completely avoided. A recent opinion piece in the New York Times provides even more concerning examples of this peril. Again, the eye-catching title of the article — As Kids, They Thought They Were Trans. They No Longer Do — draws in the audience eager to read about some unfortunate individuals who have regretted their decision to transition and are now detransitioning.

If you are interested in hearing anecdotal evidence and opinions supporting the notion that there is such a thing as rapid-onset gender dysphoria, I suggest you read the entire piece. However, the article’s most troubling message for me comes when I read about the professionals who were former gender-related care providers who left the field because of “pushback, the accusations of being transphobic, from being pro-assessment and wanting a more thorough process.”

One therapist trained in gender-affirming care who began to have doubts about the model and spoke out in favor of a more measured approach was investigated by her licensing board after transgender advocates threatened to report her. Ultimately, her case was dismissed, but she continues to fear for her safety.

Gender-related healthcare is another sad example of how in this country it is the noise coming from the advocates on the extremes of the issue that is drowning out the “vast ideological middle” that is seeking civil and rational discussions.

In this situation there are those who want to make it illegal for the healthcare providers to help patients who might benefit from transitioning. On the other end of the spectrum are those advocates who are unwilling to acknowledge that there may be some adolescents with what has been called by some “rapid-onset gender dysphoria.”

The landscape on which this tragedy is being played out is changing so quickly that there will be no correct answers in the short term. There just isn’t enough data. However, there is enough anecdotal evidence from professionals who were and still are practicing gender-related care to raise a concern that something is happening in the adolescent population that suggests some individuals with gender dysphoria should be managed in a different way than the currently accepted gender-affirming model. The size of this subgroup is up for debate and we may never learn it because of reporting bias and privacy concerns.

The American Academy of Pediatrics has recently authorized a systematic review of gender-affirming care. I hope that, like the librarian in Blue Hill, it will have the courage to include all the evidence available even though, as we have seen here in Maine, some of it may spark a firestorm of vehement responses.

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

Blue Hill is a small idyllic town a little less than two and a half hours Down East the coast from where I am sitting here in Harpswell. Thanks to gentrification it tends to lean left politically, but like the rest of Maine most folks in the surrounding communities often don’t know or care much about their neighbor’s party affiliation. Its library, founded in 1796, is well funded and a source of civic pride.

One day a couple of years ago, the library director received a donated book from a patron. Although he personally didn’t agree with the book’s message, he felt it deserved a space in their collection dealing with the subject. What happened in the wake of this donation is an ugly tale. Some community members objected to the book and asked that it be removed from the shelves, or at least kept under the desk and loaned out only on request.

The objectors, many of whom knew the director, were confrontational. The collections committee unanimously supported his decision. Some committee members also received similar responses from community members. Remember, this is a small town.

A request for support sent to the American Library Association was basically ignored. Over the next 2 years things have quieted, but fractured friendships and relationships in this quiet coastal Maine town have not been repaired. However, as the librarian has observed, “intellectual freedom or the freedom of speech isn’t there just to protect the ideas that we like.”

While the title of the book may feel inflammatory to some, every publisher hopes to grab the market’s attention with a hot title. The cause of this sad situation in Blue Hill was not a white supremacist’s polemic offering specific ways to create genocide. This was a book suggesting that gender dysphoria presenting in adolescence may have multiple causes and raises concerns about the wisdom of the pace of some gender-affirming care.

Clearly the topic of gender dysphoria in adolescence has become a third rail that must be approached with caution or completely avoided. A recent opinion piece in the New York Times provides even more concerning examples of this peril. Again, the eye-catching title of the article — As Kids, They Thought They Were Trans. They No Longer Do — draws in the audience eager to read about some unfortunate individuals who have regretted their decision to transition and are now detransitioning.

If you are interested in hearing anecdotal evidence and opinions supporting the notion that there is such a thing as rapid-onset gender dysphoria, I suggest you read the entire piece. However, the article’s most troubling message for me comes when I read about the professionals who were former gender-related care providers who left the field because of “pushback, the accusations of being transphobic, from being pro-assessment and wanting a more thorough process.”

One therapist trained in gender-affirming care who began to have doubts about the model and spoke out in favor of a more measured approach was investigated by her licensing board after transgender advocates threatened to report her. Ultimately, her case was dismissed, but she continues to fear for her safety.

Gender-related healthcare is another sad example of how in this country it is the noise coming from the advocates on the extremes of the issue that is drowning out the “vast ideological middle” that is seeking civil and rational discussions.

In this situation there are those who want to make it illegal for the healthcare providers to help patients who might benefit from transitioning. On the other end of the spectrum are those advocates who are unwilling to acknowledge that there may be some adolescents with what has been called by some “rapid-onset gender dysphoria.”

The landscape on which this tragedy is being played out is changing so quickly that there will be no correct answers in the short term. There just isn’t enough data. However, there is enough anecdotal evidence from professionals who were and still are practicing gender-related care to raise a concern that something is happening in the adolescent population that suggests some individuals with gender dysphoria should be managed in a different way than the currently accepted gender-affirming model. The size of this subgroup is up for debate and we may never learn it because of reporting bias and privacy concerns.

The American Academy of Pediatrics has recently authorized a systematic review of gender-affirming care. I hope that, like the librarian in Blue Hill, it will have the courage to include all the evidence available even though, as we have seen here in Maine, some of it may spark a firestorm of vehement responses.

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

Blue Hill is a small idyllic town a little less than two and a half hours Down East the coast from where I am sitting here in Harpswell. Thanks to gentrification it tends to lean left politically, but like the rest of Maine most folks in the surrounding communities often don’t know or care much about their neighbor’s party affiliation. Its library, founded in 1796, is well funded and a source of civic pride.

One day a couple of years ago, the library director received a donated book from a patron. Although he personally didn’t agree with the book’s message, he felt it deserved a space in their collection dealing with the subject. What happened in the wake of this donation is an ugly tale. Some community members objected to the book and asked that it be removed from the shelves, or at least kept under the desk and loaned out only on request.

The objectors, many of whom knew the director, were confrontational. The collections committee unanimously supported his decision. Some committee members also received similar responses from community members. Remember, this is a small town.

A request for support sent to the American Library Association was basically ignored. Over the next 2 years things have quieted, but fractured friendships and relationships in this quiet coastal Maine town have not been repaired. However, as the librarian has observed, “intellectual freedom or the freedom of speech isn’t there just to protect the ideas that we like.”

While the title of the book may feel inflammatory to some, every publisher hopes to grab the market’s attention with a hot title. The cause of this sad situation in Blue Hill was not a white supremacist’s polemic offering specific ways to create genocide. This was a book suggesting that gender dysphoria presenting in adolescence may have multiple causes and raises concerns about the wisdom of the pace of some gender-affirming care.

Clearly the topic of gender dysphoria in adolescence has become a third rail that must be approached with caution or completely avoided. A recent opinion piece in the New York Times provides even more concerning examples of this peril. Again, the eye-catching title of the article — As Kids, They Thought They Were Trans. They No Longer Do — draws in the audience eager to read about some unfortunate individuals who have regretted their decision to transition and are now detransitioning.

If you are interested in hearing anecdotal evidence and opinions supporting the notion that there is such a thing as rapid-onset gender dysphoria, I suggest you read the entire piece. However, the article’s most troubling message for me comes when I read about the professionals who were former gender-related care providers who left the field because of “pushback, the accusations of being transphobic, from being pro-assessment and wanting a more thorough process.”

One therapist trained in gender-affirming care who began to have doubts about the model and spoke out in favor of a more measured approach was investigated by her licensing board after transgender advocates threatened to report her. Ultimately, her case was dismissed, but she continues to fear for her safety.

Gender-related healthcare is another sad example of how in this country it is the noise coming from the advocates on the extremes of the issue that is drowning out the “vast ideological middle” that is seeking civil and rational discussions.

In this situation there are those who want to make it illegal for the healthcare providers to help patients who might benefit from transitioning. On the other end of the spectrum are those advocates who are unwilling to acknowledge that there may be some adolescents with what has been called by some “rapid-onset gender dysphoria.”

The landscape on which this tragedy is being played out is changing so quickly that there will be no correct answers in the short term. There just isn’t enough data. However, there is enough anecdotal evidence from professionals who were and still are practicing gender-related care to raise a concern that something is happening in the adolescent population that suggests some individuals with gender dysphoria should be managed in a different way than the currently accepted gender-affirming model. The size of this subgroup is up for debate and we may never learn it because of reporting bias and privacy concerns.

The American Academy of Pediatrics has recently authorized a systematic review of gender-affirming care. I hope that, like the librarian in Blue Hill, it will have the courage to include all the evidence available even though, as we have seen here in Maine, some of it may spark a firestorm of vehement responses.

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

It’s not always great to be tops among your peers.

For physicians with student debt, half carry more than $200,000 and 26% carry more than $300,000, according to Medscape Medical News’ 2023 Residents Salary and Debt Report.

I’m smack in that upper percentile. I amassed nearly a half million dollars in student debt and currently stand at roughly $400,000. Yay me.

As a naive twentysomething making a major life decision, I never thought my loans would amount to this inconceivable figure, the proverbial “mortgage without a roof” you hear student debt experts talk about.

This isn’t a story about how the student loan industry needs to be reformed or how education has become increasingly expensive or regrets about going to medical school.

It’s also not a story about how you should be handling basics like consolidating and refinancing and paying extra toward your principal.

It’s about my experience as a physician 13 years after signing that first promissory note. In short: I completely miscalculated the impact loans would have on my life.

I bought money to go to school. I can’t undo that. But over the past decade, I have learned a lot, particularly how those with their own mountain of debt — or who will inevitably wind up with one — can manage things better than I have.

Mistake #1: Loan Forgiveness Is More Complicated Than it Seems

My parents and I were aware of the Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program which began in 2007 shortly before I started exploring medical school options. I wanted to help people, so working in the nonprofit sector sounded like a no-brainer. Making 120 payments while practicing at a qualifying institution didn’t sound hard.

Newsflash: Not all healthcare organizations are 501(c)3 programs that qualify as nonprofit for the PSLF program. You can’t just snap your fingers and land at one. I graduated from fellowship just as the COVID-19 pandemic began, which meant I was launching my medical career in the midst of hiring freezes and an overnight disappearance of job opportunities.

I had to take a 2-year hiatus from the nonprofit sector and found a part-time position with a local private practice group. It still stings. Had I been working for a qualified employer, I could have benefited from the student loan payment pause and been closer to applying for loan forgiveness.

Avoid it: Be brutally honest with yourself about what kind of medicine you want to practice — especially within the opportunities you have on hand. Private practice is very different from working for the nonprofit sector. I didn›t know that. When weighing career choices, immediately ask, “How will this impact how I pay my loans?” You may not like the answer, but you›ll always know where you stand financially.

Mistake #2: I Forgot to Factor in Life Goals

To be fair, some things were out of my control: Not getting into a state school with cheaper tuition rates, graduating at the start of a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic. I wasn’t prepared for a changing job landscape. But there were also “expected” life events like getting married, developing a geographical preference, and having a child. I didn’t consider those either.

How about the “expected” goal of buying a home? For years I didn’t feel financially comfortable enough to take on a mortgage. For so long, my attitude has been don’t take on any more debt. (A special shout-out to my 6.8% interest rate which has contributed over a third of my total loan amount.)

This even affected how my husband and I would talk about what a future home might look like. There’s always a giant unwelcome guest casting a shadow over my thoughts.

Avoid it: Don’t compartmentalize your personal and professional lives. Your student loans will hang over both, and you need to be honest with yourself about what “upward mobility” really means to you while in debt. There’s a reason people say “live like a resident” until your loans are paid off. My husband and I finally worked our numbers to where we bought our first home this past year — a moment years in the making. I still drive around in my beloved Honda CR-V like it’s a Mercedes G-Wagon.

Mistake #3: I Didn’t Ask Questions

I regret not talking to a practicing physician about their experience with student loans. I didn’t know any. There weren’t any physicians in my extended family or my community network. I was a first-generation Pakistani American kid trying to figure it out.

It’s difficult because even today, many physicians aren’t comfortable discussing their financial circumstances. The lack of financial transparency and even financial literacy is astounding among young medical professionals. We live in a medical culture where no one talks about the money. I was too diffident and nervous to even try.

Avoid it: Don’t be afraid to have uncomfortable conversations about money. Don’t allow yourself to make even one passive decision. It’s your life.

If you can’t find someone in medicine to talk to about their financial journey, there are plenty of credible resources. Medscape Medical News has a Physician Business Academy with hot topics like personal finance. The White Coat Investor is literally bookmarked on all my electronic devices. KevinMD.com has a ton of resources and articles answering common financial questions about retirement, savings, and house buying. And Travis Hornsby with www.studentloanplanner.com has wonderful advice on all kinds of different loans.

There are no stupid questions. Just ask. You might be surprised by what people are willing to share.

Mistake #4: Playing it Casual With My Lenders

If $400,000 in debt doesn’t sound bad enough, imagine lots more. It turns out my loan carrier had me at a much higher loan balance because they’d inadvertently duplicated one of my loans in the total. I didn’t know that until I transferred my loans to another handler and it came to light.

Imagine my relief at having a lower total. Imagine my anger at myself for not checking sooner.

Avoid it: Do a thorough self-audit on all your loans more than once a year. Pretend they’re a patient with odd symptoms you can’t pin down and you have the luxury of doing every diagnostic test available. It’s not fun studying your own debt, but it’s the only way to really know how much you have.

Mistake #5: Not Leaving Room to Change My Mind

I underestimated how I would evolve and how my goals would change after having the letters “MD” after my name. I never dreamed that a nonprofit salary might not be enough.

A lot of us assume that the bedside is where we will find professional satisfaction. But you might be surprised. In a climate where we’re constantly being pushed to do more in a broken healthcare system, a landscape where misinformation and technology are forcing medicine to change, there might be little joy in working clinically full time. Then what do you do?

Because I elected to go the PSLF route, I’m tied to this decision. And while it still makes the most economic sense for me personally, it now limits my professional exploration and freedom.

Avoid it: Consider how much time you really want to spend in clinical medicine. Be mindful that you have to work at least 0.8 full time equivalent to qualify for the PSLF program. It’s very hard to predict the future, let alone your future, but just know you›ll have moments where you ask, “Do I really want to stay on this career track?” Will you be able to pivot? Can you live with it if the answer is no?

Looking Ahead

Let me be clear about one thing. Despite all the negativity I feel toward my student loans — guilt about the burden I brought to my marriage and my adult life, disappointment about the cost of becoming a successful physician, and frustration that this has turned out to be the most influential factor shaping my professional and personal choices — the one thing I don’t feel is shame.

I worked hard to get to this point in my life. I am proud of being a physician.

My student loan burden will follow me to the grave. But progress is also possible. I have friends that have paid their loans down by hustling, working hard, and dropping every penny toward them.

I also have friends that have had their loans forgiven. There are options. Everyone’s experience looks a little different. But don’t be naive: Student loans will color every financial decision you make.

I’m finding solace now in recently moving and finding work at a nonprofit institution. I’m back at it; 77 payments made, and 43 to go.

Well, technically I’ve made 93 payments. I’m still waiting for my loan servicer to get around to updating my account.

You really have to stay on top of those folks.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s not always great to be tops among your peers.

For physicians with student debt, half carry more than $200,000 and 26% carry more than $300,000, according to Medscape Medical News’ 2023 Residents Salary and Debt Report.

I’m smack in that upper percentile. I amassed nearly a half million dollars in student debt and currently stand at roughly $400,000. Yay me.

As a naive twentysomething making a major life decision, I never thought my loans would amount to this inconceivable figure, the proverbial “mortgage without a roof” you hear student debt experts talk about.

This isn’t a story about how the student loan industry needs to be reformed or how education has become increasingly expensive or regrets about going to medical school.

It’s also not a story about how you should be handling basics like consolidating and refinancing and paying extra toward your principal.

It’s about my experience as a physician 13 years after signing that first promissory note. In short: I completely miscalculated the impact loans would have on my life.

I bought money to go to school. I can’t undo that. But over the past decade, I have learned a lot, particularly how those with their own mountain of debt — or who will inevitably wind up with one — can manage things better than I have.

Mistake #1: Loan Forgiveness Is More Complicated Than it Seems

My parents and I were aware of the Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program which began in 2007 shortly before I started exploring medical school options. I wanted to help people, so working in the nonprofit sector sounded like a no-brainer. Making 120 payments while practicing at a qualifying institution didn’t sound hard.

Newsflash: Not all healthcare organizations are 501(c)3 programs that qualify as nonprofit for the PSLF program. You can’t just snap your fingers and land at one. I graduated from fellowship just as the COVID-19 pandemic began, which meant I was launching my medical career in the midst of hiring freezes and an overnight disappearance of job opportunities.

I had to take a 2-year hiatus from the nonprofit sector and found a part-time position with a local private practice group. It still stings. Had I been working for a qualified employer, I could have benefited from the student loan payment pause and been closer to applying for loan forgiveness.

Avoid it: Be brutally honest with yourself about what kind of medicine you want to practice — especially within the opportunities you have on hand. Private practice is very different from working for the nonprofit sector. I didn›t know that. When weighing career choices, immediately ask, “How will this impact how I pay my loans?” You may not like the answer, but you›ll always know where you stand financially.

Mistake #2: I Forgot to Factor in Life Goals

To be fair, some things were out of my control: Not getting into a state school with cheaper tuition rates, graduating at the start of a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic. I wasn’t prepared for a changing job landscape. But there were also “expected” life events like getting married, developing a geographical preference, and having a child. I didn’t consider those either.

How about the “expected” goal of buying a home? For years I didn’t feel financially comfortable enough to take on a mortgage. For so long, my attitude has been don’t take on any more debt. (A special shout-out to my 6.8% interest rate which has contributed over a third of my total loan amount.)

This even affected how my husband and I would talk about what a future home might look like. There’s always a giant unwelcome guest casting a shadow over my thoughts.

Avoid it: Don’t compartmentalize your personal and professional lives. Your student loans will hang over both, and you need to be honest with yourself about what “upward mobility” really means to you while in debt. There’s a reason people say “live like a resident” until your loans are paid off. My husband and I finally worked our numbers to where we bought our first home this past year — a moment years in the making. I still drive around in my beloved Honda CR-V like it’s a Mercedes G-Wagon.

Mistake #3: I Didn’t Ask Questions

I regret not talking to a practicing physician about their experience with student loans. I didn’t know any. There weren’t any physicians in my extended family or my community network. I was a first-generation Pakistani American kid trying to figure it out.

It’s difficult because even today, many physicians aren’t comfortable discussing their financial circumstances. The lack of financial transparency and even financial literacy is astounding among young medical professionals. We live in a medical culture where no one talks about the money. I was too diffident and nervous to even try.

Avoid it: Don’t be afraid to have uncomfortable conversations about money. Don’t allow yourself to make even one passive decision. It’s your life.

If you can’t find someone in medicine to talk to about their financial journey, there are plenty of credible resources. Medscape Medical News has a Physician Business Academy with hot topics like personal finance. The White Coat Investor is literally bookmarked on all my electronic devices. KevinMD.com has a ton of resources and articles answering common financial questions about retirement, savings, and house buying. And Travis Hornsby with www.studentloanplanner.com has wonderful advice on all kinds of different loans.

There are no stupid questions. Just ask. You might be surprised by what people are willing to share.

Mistake #4: Playing it Casual With My Lenders

If $400,000 in debt doesn’t sound bad enough, imagine lots more. It turns out my loan carrier had me at a much higher loan balance because they’d inadvertently duplicated one of my loans in the total. I didn’t know that until I transferred my loans to another handler and it came to light.

Imagine my relief at having a lower total. Imagine my anger at myself for not checking sooner.

Avoid it: Do a thorough self-audit on all your loans more than once a year. Pretend they’re a patient with odd symptoms you can’t pin down and you have the luxury of doing every diagnostic test available. It’s not fun studying your own debt, but it’s the only way to really know how much you have.

Mistake #5: Not Leaving Room to Change My Mind

I underestimated how I would evolve and how my goals would change after having the letters “MD” after my name. I never dreamed that a nonprofit salary might not be enough.

A lot of us assume that the bedside is where we will find professional satisfaction. But you might be surprised. In a climate where we’re constantly being pushed to do more in a broken healthcare system, a landscape where misinformation and technology are forcing medicine to change, there might be little joy in working clinically full time. Then what do you do?

Because I elected to go the PSLF route, I’m tied to this decision. And while it still makes the most economic sense for me personally, it now limits my professional exploration and freedom.

Avoid it: Consider how much time you really want to spend in clinical medicine. Be mindful that you have to work at least 0.8 full time equivalent to qualify for the PSLF program. It’s very hard to predict the future, let alone your future, but just know you›ll have moments where you ask, “Do I really want to stay on this career track?” Will you be able to pivot? Can you live with it if the answer is no?

Looking Ahead

Let me be clear about one thing. Despite all the negativity I feel toward my student loans — guilt about the burden I brought to my marriage and my adult life, disappointment about the cost of becoming a successful physician, and frustration that this has turned out to be the most influential factor shaping my professional and personal choices — the one thing I don’t feel is shame.

I worked hard to get to this point in my life. I am proud of being a physician.

My student loan burden will follow me to the grave. But progress is also possible. I have friends that have paid their loans down by hustling, working hard, and dropping every penny toward them.

I also have friends that have had their loans forgiven. There are options. Everyone’s experience looks a little different. But don’t be naive: Student loans will color every financial decision you make.

I’m finding solace now in recently moving and finding work at a nonprofit institution. I’m back at it; 77 payments made, and 43 to go.

Well, technically I’ve made 93 payments. I’m still waiting for my loan servicer to get around to updating my account.

You really have to stay on top of those folks.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s not always great to be tops among your peers.

For physicians with student debt, half carry more than $200,000 and 26% carry more than $300,000, according to Medscape Medical News’ 2023 Residents Salary and Debt Report.

I’m smack in that upper percentile. I amassed nearly a half million dollars in student debt and currently stand at roughly $400,000. Yay me.

As a naive twentysomething making a major life decision, I never thought my loans would amount to this inconceivable figure, the proverbial “mortgage without a roof” you hear student debt experts talk about.

This isn’t a story about how the student loan industry needs to be reformed or how education has become increasingly expensive or regrets about going to medical school.

It’s also not a story about how you should be handling basics like consolidating and refinancing and paying extra toward your principal.

It’s about my experience as a physician 13 years after signing that first promissory note. In short: I completely miscalculated the impact loans would have on my life.

I bought money to go to school. I can’t undo that. But over the past decade, I have learned a lot, particularly how those with their own mountain of debt — or who will inevitably wind up with one — can manage things better than I have.

Mistake #1: Loan Forgiveness Is More Complicated Than it Seems

My parents and I were aware of the Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program which began in 2007 shortly before I started exploring medical school options. I wanted to help people, so working in the nonprofit sector sounded like a no-brainer. Making 120 payments while practicing at a qualifying institution didn’t sound hard.

Newsflash: Not all healthcare organizations are 501(c)3 programs that qualify as nonprofit for the PSLF program. You can’t just snap your fingers and land at one. I graduated from fellowship just as the COVID-19 pandemic began, which meant I was launching my medical career in the midst of hiring freezes and an overnight disappearance of job opportunities.

I had to take a 2-year hiatus from the nonprofit sector and found a part-time position with a local private practice group. It still stings. Had I been working for a qualified employer, I could have benefited from the student loan payment pause and been closer to applying for loan forgiveness.

Avoid it: Be brutally honest with yourself about what kind of medicine you want to practice — especially within the opportunities you have on hand. Private practice is very different from working for the nonprofit sector. I didn›t know that. When weighing career choices, immediately ask, “How will this impact how I pay my loans?” You may not like the answer, but you›ll always know where you stand financially.

Mistake #2: I Forgot to Factor in Life Goals

To be fair, some things were out of my control: Not getting into a state school with cheaper tuition rates, graduating at the start of a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic. I wasn’t prepared for a changing job landscape. But there were also “expected” life events like getting married, developing a geographical preference, and having a child. I didn’t consider those either.

How about the “expected” goal of buying a home? For years I didn’t feel financially comfortable enough to take on a mortgage. For so long, my attitude has been don’t take on any more debt. (A special shout-out to my 6.8% interest rate which has contributed over a third of my total loan amount.)

This even affected how my husband and I would talk about what a future home might look like. There’s always a giant unwelcome guest casting a shadow over my thoughts.

Avoid it: Don’t compartmentalize your personal and professional lives. Your student loans will hang over both, and you need to be honest with yourself about what “upward mobility” really means to you while in debt. There’s a reason people say “live like a resident” until your loans are paid off. My husband and I finally worked our numbers to where we bought our first home this past year — a moment years in the making. I still drive around in my beloved Honda CR-V like it’s a Mercedes G-Wagon.

Mistake #3: I Didn’t Ask Questions

I regret not talking to a practicing physician about their experience with student loans. I didn’t know any. There weren’t any physicians in my extended family or my community network. I was a first-generation Pakistani American kid trying to figure it out.

It’s difficult because even today, many physicians aren’t comfortable discussing their financial circumstances. The lack of financial transparency and even financial literacy is astounding among young medical professionals. We live in a medical culture where no one talks about the money. I was too diffident and nervous to even try.

Avoid it: Don’t be afraid to have uncomfortable conversations about money. Don’t allow yourself to make even one passive decision. It’s your life.

If you can’t find someone in medicine to talk to about their financial journey, there are plenty of credible resources. Medscape Medical News has a Physician Business Academy with hot topics like personal finance. The White Coat Investor is literally bookmarked on all my electronic devices. KevinMD.com has a ton of resources and articles answering common financial questions about retirement, savings, and house buying. And Travis Hornsby with www.studentloanplanner.com has wonderful advice on all kinds of different loans.

There are no stupid questions. Just ask. You might be surprised by what people are willing to share.

Mistake #4: Playing it Casual With My Lenders

If $400,000 in debt doesn’t sound bad enough, imagine lots more. It turns out my loan carrier had me at a much higher loan balance because they’d inadvertently duplicated one of my loans in the total. I didn’t know that until I transferred my loans to another handler and it came to light.

Imagine my relief at having a lower total. Imagine my anger at myself for not checking sooner.

Avoid it: Do a thorough self-audit on all your loans more than once a year. Pretend they’re a patient with odd symptoms you can’t pin down and you have the luxury of doing every diagnostic test available. It’s not fun studying your own debt, but it’s the only way to really know how much you have.

Mistake #5: Not Leaving Room to Change My Mind

I underestimated how I would evolve and how my goals would change after having the letters “MD” after my name. I never dreamed that a nonprofit salary might not be enough.

A lot of us assume that the bedside is where we will find professional satisfaction. But you might be surprised. In a climate where we’re constantly being pushed to do more in a broken healthcare system, a landscape where misinformation and technology are forcing medicine to change, there might be little joy in working clinically full time. Then what do you do?

Because I elected to go the PSLF route, I’m tied to this decision. And while it still makes the most economic sense for me personally, it now limits my professional exploration and freedom.

Avoid it: Consider how much time you really want to spend in clinical medicine. Be mindful that you have to work at least 0.8 full time equivalent to qualify for the PSLF program. It’s very hard to predict the future, let alone your future, but just know you›ll have moments where you ask, “Do I really want to stay on this career track?” Will you be able to pivot? Can you live with it if the answer is no?

Looking Ahead

Let me be clear about one thing. Despite all the negativity I feel toward my student loans — guilt about the burden I brought to my marriage and my adult life, disappointment about the cost of becoming a successful physician, and frustration that this has turned out to be the most influential factor shaping my professional and personal choices — the one thing I don’t feel is shame.

I worked hard to get to this point in my life. I am proud of being a physician.

My student loan burden will follow me to the grave. But progress is also possible. I have friends that have paid their loans down by hustling, working hard, and dropping every penny toward them.

I also have friends that have had their loans forgiven. There are options. Everyone’s experience looks a little different. But don’t be naive: Student loans will color every financial decision you make.

I’m finding solace now in recently moving and finding work at a nonprofit institution. I’m back at it; 77 payments made, and 43 to go.

Well, technically I’ve made 93 payments. I’m still waiting for my loan servicer to get around to updating my account.

You really have to stay on top of those folks.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A few weeks ago, I made a patient who lost 100 pounds following a sleeve gastrectomy 9 months prior feel bad because I told her she lost too much weight. As I spoke to her, I realized that she found it hard to make life changes and that the surgery was a huge aide in changing her life and her lifestyle. I ended up apologizing for initially saying she lost too much weight.

For the first time in her life, she was successful in losing weight and keeping it off. The surgery allowed her body to defend a lower body weight by altering the secretion of gut hormones that lead to satiety in the brain. It’s not her fault that her body responded so well!

I asked her to be on my next orientation virtual meeting with prospective weight management patients to urge those with a body mass index (BMI) > 40 to consider bariatric surgery as the most effective durable and safe treatment for their degree of obesity.

Metabolic bariatric surgery, primarily sleeve gastrectomy and Roux-en-Y gastric bypass , alters the gut hormone milieu such that the body defends a lower mass of adipose tissue and a lower weight. We have learned what it takes to alter body weight defense to a healthy lower weight by studying why metabolic bariatric surgery works so well. It turns out that there are several hormones secreted by the gut that allow the brain to register fullness.

One of these gut hormones, glucagon-like peptide (GLP)-1, has been researched as an analog to help reduce body weight by 16% and has also been shown to reduce cardiovascular risk in the SELECT trial, as published in The New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM).

It’s the first weight loss medication to be shown in a cardiovascular outcomes trial to be superior to placebo in reduction of major cardiovascular events, including cardiovascular deaths, nonfatal myocardial infarction, and nonfatal stroke. The results presented at the 2023 American Heart Association meetings in Philadelphia ended in wholehearted applause by a “standing only” audience even before the presentation’s conclusion.

As we pave the way for nutrient-stimulated hormone (NuSH) therapies to be prescribed to all Americans with a BMI > 30 to improve health, we need to remember what these medications actually do. We used to think that metabolic bariatric surgery worked by restricting the stomach contents and malabsorbing nutrients. We now know that the surgeries work by altering NuSH secretion, allowing for less secretion of the hunger hormone ghrelin and more secretion of GLP-1, glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP), peptide YY (PYY), cholecystokinin (CCK), oxyntomodulin (OXM), and other satiety hormones with less food ingestion.

They have pleiotropic effects on many organ systems in the body, including the brain, heart, adipose tissue, and liver. They decrease inflammation and also increase satiety and delay gastric emptying. None of these effects automatically produce weight loss, but they certainly aid in the adoption of a healthier body weight and better health. The weight loss occurs because these medications steer the body toward behavioral changes that promote weight loss.

As we delve into the SELECT trial results, a 20% reduction in major cardiovascular events was accompanied by an average weight loss of 9.6%, without a behavioral component added to either the placebo or intervention arms, as is usual in antiobesity agent trials.

Does this mean that primary care providers (PCPs) don’t have to educate patients on behavior change, diet, and exercise therapy? Well, if we consider obesity a disease as we do type 2 diabetes and dyslipidemia or hypertension, then no — PCPs don’t have to, just like they don’t in treating these other diseases.

However, we should rethink this practice. The recently published SURMOUNT-3 trial looked at another NuSH, tirzepatide, with intensive behavioral therapy; it resulted in a 26.6% weight loss, which is comparable to results with bariatric surgery. The SURMOUNT-1 trial of tirzepatide with nonintensive behavioral therapy resulted in a 20.9% weight loss, which is still substantial, but SURMOUNT-3 showed how much more is achievable with robust behavior-change therapy.

In other words, it’s time that PCPs provide education on behavior change to maximize the power of the medications prescribed in practice for the most common diseases suffered in the United States: obesity, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and hypertension. These are all chronic, relapsing diseases. Medication alone will improve numbers (weight, blood glucose, A1c, and blood pressure), but a relapsing disease continues relentlessly as patients age to overcome the medications prescribed.

Today I made another patient feel bad because she lost over 100 pounds on semaglutide (Wegovy) 2.4 mg over 1 year, reducing her BMI from 57 to 36. She wanted to keep losing, so I recommended sleeve gastrectomy to lose more weight. I told her she could always restart the Wegovy after the procedure if needed.

We really don’t have an answer to this issue of NuSH therapy not getting to goal and bariatric surgery following medication therapy. The reality is that bariatric surgery should be considered a safe, effective treatment for extreme obesity somewhere along the trajectory of treatments starting with behavior (diet, exercise) and medications. It is still considered a last resort, and for some, just too aggressive.

We have learned much about the incretin hormones and what they can accomplish for obesity from studying bariatric — now called metabolic — surgery. Surgery should be seen as we see stent placement for angina, only more effective for longevity. The COURAGE trial, published in 2007 in NEJM, showed that when compared with medication treatment alone for angina, stent placement plus medications resulted in no difference in mortality after a 7-year follow-up period. Compare this to bariatric surgery, which in many retrospective analyses shows a 20% reduction in cardiovascular mortality after 20-year follow-up (Swedish Obesity Study). In the United States, there are 2 million stent procedures performed per year vs 250,000 bariatric surgical procedures. There are millions of Americans with a BMI > 40 and, yes, millions of Americans with angina. I think I make my point that we need to do more bariatric surgeries to effectively treat extreme obesity.

The solution to this negligent medical practice in obesity treatment is to empower PCPs to treat obesity (at least uncomplicated obesity) and refer to obesity medicine practices for complicated obesity with multiple complications, such as type 2 diabetes and cardiovascular disease, and to refer to obesity medicine practices with a surgical component for BMIs > 40 or > 35 with type 2 diabetes, sleep apnea, and/or cardiovascular disease or other serious conditions.

How do we empower PCPs? Insurance coverage of NuSH therapies due to life-saving properties — as evidenced by the SELECT trial — without prior authorizations; and education on how and why metabolic surgery works, as well as education on behavioral approaches, such as healthy diet and exercise, as a core therapy for all BMI categories.

It’s time.

Caroline Apovian, MD, has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Altimmune; Cowen and Company; Currax Pharmaceuticals; EPG Communication Holdings; Gelesis, Srl; L-Nutra; and NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals. Received research grant from: National Institutes of Health; Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute; and GI Dynamics. Received income in an amount equal to or greater than $250 from: Altimmune; Cowen and Company; NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals; and Novo Nordisk.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A few weeks ago, I made a patient who lost 100 pounds following a sleeve gastrectomy 9 months prior feel bad because I told her she lost too much weight. As I spoke to her, I realized that she found it hard to make life changes and that the surgery was a huge aide in changing her life and her lifestyle. I ended up apologizing for initially saying she lost too much weight.

For the first time in her life, she was successful in losing weight and keeping it off. The surgery allowed her body to defend a lower body weight by altering the secretion of gut hormones that lead to satiety in the brain. It’s not her fault that her body responded so well!

I asked her to be on my next orientation virtual meeting with prospective weight management patients to urge those with a body mass index (BMI) > 40 to consider bariatric surgery as the most effective durable and safe treatment for their degree of obesity.

Metabolic bariatric surgery, primarily sleeve gastrectomy and Roux-en-Y gastric bypass , alters the gut hormone milieu such that the body defends a lower mass of adipose tissue and a lower weight. We have learned what it takes to alter body weight defense to a healthy lower weight by studying why metabolic bariatric surgery works so well. It turns out that there are several hormones secreted by the gut that allow the brain to register fullness.

One of these gut hormones, glucagon-like peptide (GLP)-1, has been researched as an analog to help reduce body weight by 16% and has also been shown to reduce cardiovascular risk in the SELECT trial, as published in The New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM).

It’s the first weight loss medication to be shown in a cardiovascular outcomes trial to be superior to placebo in reduction of major cardiovascular events, including cardiovascular deaths, nonfatal myocardial infarction, and nonfatal stroke. The results presented at the 2023 American Heart Association meetings in Philadelphia ended in wholehearted applause by a “standing only” audience even before the presentation’s conclusion.

As we pave the way for nutrient-stimulated hormone (NuSH) therapies to be prescribed to all Americans with a BMI > 30 to improve health, we need to remember what these medications actually do. We used to think that metabolic bariatric surgery worked by restricting the stomach contents and malabsorbing nutrients. We now know that the surgeries work by altering NuSH secretion, allowing for less secretion of the hunger hormone ghrelin and more secretion of GLP-1, glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP), peptide YY (PYY), cholecystokinin (CCK), oxyntomodulin (OXM), and other satiety hormones with less food ingestion.

They have pleiotropic effects on many organ systems in the body, including the brain, heart, adipose tissue, and liver. They decrease inflammation and also increase satiety and delay gastric emptying. None of these effects automatically produce weight loss, but they certainly aid in the adoption of a healthier body weight and better health. The weight loss occurs because these medications steer the body toward behavioral changes that promote weight loss.

As we delve into the SELECT trial results, a 20% reduction in major cardiovascular events was accompanied by an average weight loss of 9.6%, without a behavioral component added to either the placebo or intervention arms, as is usual in antiobesity agent trials.

Does this mean that primary care providers (PCPs) don’t have to educate patients on behavior change, diet, and exercise therapy? Well, if we consider obesity a disease as we do type 2 diabetes and dyslipidemia or hypertension, then no — PCPs don’t have to, just like they don’t in treating these other diseases.

However, we should rethink this practice. The recently published SURMOUNT-3 trial looked at another NuSH, tirzepatide, with intensive behavioral therapy; it resulted in a 26.6% weight loss, which is comparable to results with bariatric surgery. The SURMOUNT-1 trial of tirzepatide with nonintensive behavioral therapy resulted in a 20.9% weight loss, which is still substantial, but SURMOUNT-3 showed how much more is achievable with robust behavior-change therapy.

In other words, it’s time that PCPs provide education on behavior change to maximize the power of the medications prescribed in practice for the most common diseases suffered in the United States: obesity, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and hypertension. These are all chronic, relapsing diseases. Medication alone will improve numbers (weight, blood glucose, A1c, and blood pressure), but a relapsing disease continues relentlessly as patients age to overcome the medications prescribed.

Today I made another patient feel bad because she lost over 100 pounds on semaglutide (Wegovy) 2.4 mg over 1 year, reducing her BMI from 57 to 36. She wanted to keep losing, so I recommended sleeve gastrectomy to lose more weight. I told her she could always restart the Wegovy after the procedure if needed.

We really don’t have an answer to this issue of NuSH therapy not getting to goal and bariatric surgery following medication therapy. The reality is that bariatric surgery should be considered a safe, effective treatment for extreme obesity somewhere along the trajectory of treatments starting with behavior (diet, exercise) and medications. It is still considered a last resort, and for some, just too aggressive.

We have learned much about the incretin hormones and what they can accomplish for obesity from studying bariatric — now called metabolic — surgery. Surgery should be seen as we see stent placement for angina, only more effective for longevity. The COURAGE trial, published in 2007 in NEJM, showed that when compared with medication treatment alone for angina, stent placement plus medications resulted in no difference in mortality after a 7-year follow-up period. Compare this to bariatric surgery, which in many retrospective analyses shows a 20% reduction in cardiovascular mortality after 20-year follow-up (Swedish Obesity Study). In the United States, there are 2 million stent procedures performed per year vs 250,000 bariatric surgical procedures. There are millions of Americans with a BMI > 40 and, yes, millions of Americans with angina. I think I make my point that we need to do more bariatric surgeries to effectively treat extreme obesity.

The solution to this negligent medical practice in obesity treatment is to empower PCPs to treat obesity (at least uncomplicated obesity) and refer to obesity medicine practices for complicated obesity with multiple complications, such as type 2 diabetes and cardiovascular disease, and to refer to obesity medicine practices with a surgical component for BMIs > 40 or > 35 with type 2 diabetes, sleep apnea, and/or cardiovascular disease or other serious conditions.

How do we empower PCPs? Insurance coverage of NuSH therapies due to life-saving properties — as evidenced by the SELECT trial — without prior authorizations; and education on how and why metabolic surgery works, as well as education on behavioral approaches, such as healthy diet and exercise, as a core therapy for all BMI categories.

It’s time.

Caroline Apovian, MD, has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Altimmune; Cowen and Company; Currax Pharmaceuticals; EPG Communication Holdings; Gelesis, Srl; L-Nutra; and NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals. Received research grant from: National Institutes of Health; Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute; and GI Dynamics. Received income in an amount equal to or greater than $250 from: Altimmune; Cowen and Company; NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals; and Novo Nordisk.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

A few weeks ago, I made a patient who lost 100 pounds following a sleeve gastrectomy 9 months prior feel bad because I told her she lost too much weight. As I spoke to her, I realized that she found it hard to make life changes and that the surgery was a huge aide in changing her life and her lifestyle. I ended up apologizing for initially saying she lost too much weight.

For the first time in her life, she was successful in losing weight and keeping it off. The surgery allowed her body to defend a lower body weight by altering the secretion of gut hormones that lead to satiety in the brain. It’s not her fault that her body responded so well!

I asked her to be on my next orientation virtual meeting with prospective weight management patients to urge those with a body mass index (BMI) > 40 to consider bariatric surgery as the most effective durable and safe treatment for their degree of obesity.

Metabolic bariatric surgery, primarily sleeve gastrectomy and Roux-en-Y gastric bypass , alters the gut hormone milieu such that the body defends a lower mass of adipose tissue and a lower weight. We have learned what it takes to alter body weight defense to a healthy lower weight by studying why metabolic bariatric surgery works so well. It turns out that there are several hormones secreted by the gut that allow the brain to register fullness.

One of these gut hormones, glucagon-like peptide (GLP)-1, has been researched as an analog to help reduce body weight by 16% and has also been shown to reduce cardiovascular risk in the SELECT trial, as published in The New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM).

It’s the first weight loss medication to be shown in a cardiovascular outcomes trial to be superior to placebo in reduction of major cardiovascular events, including cardiovascular deaths, nonfatal myocardial infarction, and nonfatal stroke. The results presented at the 2023 American Heart Association meetings in Philadelphia ended in wholehearted applause by a “standing only” audience even before the presentation’s conclusion.

As we pave the way for nutrient-stimulated hormone (NuSH) therapies to be prescribed to all Americans with a BMI > 30 to improve health, we need to remember what these medications actually do. We used to think that metabolic bariatric surgery worked by restricting the stomach contents and malabsorbing nutrients. We now know that the surgeries work by altering NuSH secretion, allowing for less secretion of the hunger hormone ghrelin and more secretion of GLP-1, glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP), peptide YY (PYY), cholecystokinin (CCK), oxyntomodulin (OXM), and other satiety hormones with less food ingestion.

They have pleiotropic effects on many organ systems in the body, including the brain, heart, adipose tissue, and liver. They decrease inflammation and also increase satiety and delay gastric emptying. None of these effects automatically produce weight loss, but they certainly aid in the adoption of a healthier body weight and better health. The weight loss occurs because these medications steer the body toward behavioral changes that promote weight loss.

As we delve into the SELECT trial results, a 20% reduction in major cardiovascular events was accompanied by an average weight loss of 9.6%, without a behavioral component added to either the placebo or intervention arms, as is usual in antiobesity agent trials.

Does this mean that primary care providers (PCPs) don’t have to educate patients on behavior change, diet, and exercise therapy? Well, if we consider obesity a disease as we do type 2 diabetes and dyslipidemia or hypertension, then no — PCPs don’t have to, just like they don’t in treating these other diseases.

However, we should rethink this practice. The recently published SURMOUNT-3 trial looked at another NuSH, tirzepatide, with intensive behavioral therapy; it resulted in a 26.6% weight loss, which is comparable to results with bariatric surgery. The SURMOUNT-1 trial of tirzepatide with nonintensive behavioral therapy resulted in a 20.9% weight loss, which is still substantial, but SURMOUNT-3 showed how much more is achievable with robust behavior-change therapy.

In other words, it’s time that PCPs provide education on behavior change to maximize the power of the medications prescribed in practice for the most common diseases suffered in the United States: obesity, type 2 diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and hypertension. These are all chronic, relapsing diseases. Medication alone will improve numbers (weight, blood glucose, A1c, and blood pressure), but a relapsing disease continues relentlessly as patients age to overcome the medications prescribed.

Today I made another patient feel bad because she lost over 100 pounds on semaglutide (Wegovy) 2.4 mg over 1 year, reducing her BMI from 57 to 36. She wanted to keep losing, so I recommended sleeve gastrectomy to lose more weight. I told her she could always restart the Wegovy after the procedure if needed.

We really don’t have an answer to this issue of NuSH therapy not getting to goal and bariatric surgery following medication therapy. The reality is that bariatric surgery should be considered a safe, effective treatment for extreme obesity somewhere along the trajectory of treatments starting with behavior (diet, exercise) and medications. It is still considered a last resort, and for some, just too aggressive.

We have learned much about the incretin hormones and what they can accomplish for obesity from studying bariatric — now called metabolic — surgery. Surgery should be seen as we see stent placement for angina, only more effective for longevity. The COURAGE trial, published in 2007 in NEJM, showed that when compared with medication treatment alone for angina, stent placement plus medications resulted in no difference in mortality after a 7-year follow-up period. Compare this to bariatric surgery, which in many retrospective analyses shows a 20% reduction in cardiovascular mortality after 20-year follow-up (Swedish Obesity Study). In the United States, there are 2 million stent procedures performed per year vs 250,000 bariatric surgical procedures. There are millions of Americans with a BMI > 40 and, yes, millions of Americans with angina. I think I make my point that we need to do more bariatric surgeries to effectively treat extreme obesity.

The solution to this negligent medical practice in obesity treatment is to empower PCPs to treat obesity (at least uncomplicated obesity) and refer to obesity medicine practices for complicated obesity with multiple complications, such as type 2 diabetes and cardiovascular disease, and to refer to obesity medicine practices with a surgical component for BMIs > 40 or > 35 with type 2 diabetes, sleep apnea, and/or cardiovascular disease or other serious conditions.

How do we empower PCPs? Insurance coverage of NuSH therapies due to life-saving properties — as evidenced by the SELECT trial — without prior authorizations; and education on how and why metabolic surgery works, as well as education on behavioral approaches, such as healthy diet and exercise, as a core therapy for all BMI categories.

It’s time.

Caroline Apovian, MD, has disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: Serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Altimmune; Cowen and Company; Currax Pharmaceuticals; EPG Communication Holdings; Gelesis, Srl; L-Nutra; and NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals. Received research grant from: National Institutes of Health; Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute; and GI Dynamics. Received income in an amount equal to or greater than $250 from: Altimmune; Cowen and Company; NeuroBo Pharmaceuticals; and Novo Nordisk.

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

“He was one of those fresh Jewish types you want to kill at sight ... she on the other hand looked Italian, a goaty slant to her eyes ... She looked dirty. So did he ... And she smelled, the usual smell of sweat and dirt you find among people who habitually do not wash or bathe ... People like that belong in clinics ... Just dumb oxen. Why the hell do they let them into the country? Half idiots at best.”

Who wrote that? Some hate-mongering pundit on a cable channel? A Twitter troll?

Nope. It was William Carlos Williams, MD, the patron saint of physician-writers.

You’re thinking “No! Not him!” We all read “The Use of Force” and “Red Wheelbarrow” in high school or college. But this blatant anti-Semitism and xenophobia?

The short story is “A Face of Stone” from his collection “The Doctor Stories” (highly recommended). When Williams was asked to remove those parts before publication, he refused because they’re a key part of the story. And I agree with him.

The point, as in so much of life, is the big picture. Despite his vivid disgust, he examines their infant, reassuring the mother that everything is okay, and later helping her with her leg pain and walking difficulties. At the end of the short story he realizes that his impressions were wrong and that people he started out hating are, well, just people who need help. And, as doctors, isn’t helping what we’re here to do?

It’s not just Williams, it’s all of us. First impressions aren’t always correct, but we rely on them — a lot. We’re programmed to. Our ancestors in the caves didn’t have much time to decided friend or foe when they encountered others.

So we initially judge people on their faces, expressions, hair, clothes, religious symbols (if present), jewelry ... The things that are registered by the brain in a split-second before the first words are exchanged.

All of us are constantly “scanning” others we encounter. In the office, store, restaurant, whatever. Usually those impressions are fleeting as we forget that person within a minute or two since we don’t see them again. But as doctors we do get to know them as patients, and so are constantly “updating” our mental files as new information comes in.

As Williams tells the story, he realizes that the “face of stone” isn’t that of the young mother he mentally derided — it’s his own face, turned that way by his first dismissive impression of the family, and then melted as he realizes he was wrong and learns from the experience to be a better doctor.

In vivid terms he reminds us that, although doctors, we are still susceptible to the same foibles, errors, and incorrect snap-judgments that all people are, but what matters is that we can, and have to, overcome them.

As a wall plaque in St. Mary’s General Hospital in Passaic, New Jersey, reminds us: “We walk the wards that Williams walked.”

We all do. Everyday. Everywhere.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

“He was one of those fresh Jewish types you want to kill at sight ... she on the other hand looked Italian, a goaty slant to her eyes ... She looked dirty. So did he ... And she smelled, the usual smell of sweat and dirt you find among people who habitually do not wash or bathe ... People like that belong in clinics ... Just dumb oxen. Why the hell do they let them into the country? Half idiots at best.”

Who wrote that? Some hate-mongering pundit on a cable channel? A Twitter troll?

Nope. It was William Carlos Williams, MD, the patron saint of physician-writers.

You’re thinking “No! Not him!” We all read “The Use of Force” and “Red Wheelbarrow” in high school or college. But this blatant anti-Semitism and xenophobia?

The short story is “A Face of Stone” from his collection “The Doctor Stories” (highly recommended). When Williams was asked to remove those parts before publication, he refused because they’re a key part of the story. And I agree with him.

The point, as in so much of life, is the big picture. Despite his vivid disgust, he examines their infant, reassuring the mother that everything is okay, and later helping her with her leg pain and walking difficulties. At the end of the short story he realizes that his impressions were wrong and that people he started out hating are, well, just people who need help. And, as doctors, isn’t helping what we’re here to do?

It’s not just Williams, it’s all of us. First impressions aren’t always correct, but we rely on them — a lot. We’re programmed to. Our ancestors in the caves didn’t have much time to decided friend or foe when they encountered others.

So we initially judge people on their faces, expressions, hair, clothes, religious symbols (if present), jewelry ... The things that are registered by the brain in a split-second before the first words are exchanged.

All of us are constantly “scanning” others we encounter. In the office, store, restaurant, whatever. Usually those impressions are fleeting as we forget that person within a minute or two since we don’t see them again. But as doctors we do get to know them as patients, and so are constantly “updating” our mental files as new information comes in.

As Williams tells the story, he realizes that the “face of stone” isn’t that of the young mother he mentally derided — it’s his own face, turned that way by his first dismissive impression of the family, and then melted as he realizes he was wrong and learns from the experience to be a better doctor.

In vivid terms he reminds us that, although doctors, we are still susceptible to the same foibles, errors, and incorrect snap-judgments that all people are, but what matters is that we can, and have to, overcome them.

As a wall plaque in St. Mary’s General Hospital in Passaic, New Jersey, reminds us: “We walk the wards that Williams walked.”

We all do. Everyday. Everywhere.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

“He was one of those fresh Jewish types you want to kill at sight ... she on the other hand looked Italian, a goaty slant to her eyes ... She looked dirty. So did he ... And she smelled, the usual smell of sweat and dirt you find among people who habitually do not wash or bathe ... People like that belong in clinics ... Just dumb oxen. Why the hell do they let them into the country? Half idiots at best.”

Who wrote that? Some hate-mongering pundit on a cable channel? A Twitter troll?

Nope. It was William Carlos Williams, MD, the patron saint of physician-writers.

You’re thinking “No! Not him!” We all read “The Use of Force” and “Red Wheelbarrow” in high school or college. But this blatant anti-Semitism and xenophobia?

The short story is “A Face of Stone” from his collection “The Doctor Stories” (highly recommended). When Williams was asked to remove those parts before publication, he refused because they’re a key part of the story. And I agree with him.

The point, as in so much of life, is the big picture. Despite his vivid disgust, he examines their infant, reassuring the mother that everything is okay, and later helping her with her leg pain and walking difficulties. At the end of the short story he realizes that his impressions were wrong and that people he started out hating are, well, just people who need help. And, as doctors, isn’t helping what we’re here to do?

It’s not just Williams, it’s all of us. First impressions aren’t always correct, but we rely on them — a lot. We’re programmed to. Our ancestors in the caves didn’t have much time to decided friend or foe when they encountered others.

So we initially judge people on their faces, expressions, hair, clothes, religious symbols (if present), jewelry ... The things that are registered by the brain in a split-second before the first words are exchanged.

All of us are constantly “scanning” others we encounter. In the office, store, restaurant, whatever. Usually those impressions are fleeting as we forget that person within a minute or two since we don’t see them again. But as doctors we do get to know them as patients, and so are constantly “updating” our mental files as new information comes in.

As Williams tells the story, he realizes that the “face of stone” isn’t that of the young mother he mentally derided — it’s his own face, turned that way by his first dismissive impression of the family, and then melted as he realizes he was wrong and learns from the experience to be a better doctor.

In vivid terms he reminds us that, although doctors, we are still susceptible to the same foibles, errors, and incorrect snap-judgments that all people are, but what matters is that we can, and have to, overcome them.

As a wall plaque in St. Mary’s General Hospital in Passaic, New Jersey, reminds us: “We walk the wards that Williams walked.”

We all do. Everyday. Everywhere.
 

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

When I was an intern and junior resident there was a fellow house officer who seemed to be a magnet for out-of-hospital emergencies. There were a couple of car accidents, a baby to be delivered, an elderly neighbor with alarming chest pain, and a little old lady with syncope, plus a few playground incidents that required more than a little on-site tending and triage. It got to the point where he felt he needed to raid the hospital supply closets to build himself a proper emergency kit.

Envious of his excitement I, of course, followed suit. However, my well-appointed plastic tackle box remained unopened on the floor behind the driver’s seat in my car. Sure, there were Band-Aids to be dispensed from time to time but mostly I was the on-site reassurer and triage consultant at the playground. I almost never suggested a trip to the emergency room. No little old ladies crumpled to the floor in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store. No distracted teenage drivers plowed into telephone poles anywhere within earshot.

When I began my practice here on the midcoast of Maine, my protective aura traveled with me. I went looking for excitement by signing on as the team physician for the local high school football team. But, other than a few minor concussions, which in those days we “treated” with a “sit on the bench for awhile and I’ll ask you a few questions,” my first responder experiences continued to be boringly undramatic. Not even any obvious dislocations or angulated fractures on the playground or athletic fields I frequented.

My professional adventures were confined to the hospital, where every physician regardless of specialty training was required to take a shift covering the emergency room. Talk about a situation looking for trouble. The concept of physicians with specialty training in emergency room medicine had not yet occurred to anyone in rural Maine. Although there were anxiety-provoking nights waiting for the disasters to arrive, somehow the shit never hit the fan while I was on duty.

Finally, after several more years of this bad (or good) fortune I was on a bike ride out in the country alone on a back road and came upon a fresh single-vehicle-single-occupant accident. Steam and smoke coming out of the engine compartment, the young driver slumped over the steering wheel. I was able to pry the door open but couldn’t find a pulse. I thumped him three times on the chest and eventually could detect a pulse and he began to stir. When the ambulance arrived I dragged my bike into the back of the ambulance with me and monitored him on the way to the hospital. He did fine, only to die in another accident a few years later.

A recent article in one of our local newspapers described a fledgling program in which three emergency room physicians are being equipped with supplies and communication links that will allow them to respond to emergent situations in the field. The program is currently seeking to extend its funding for another year. Its advocates argue that the need is twofold. There is currently a regional shortage of fully trained first responder EMTs. And having an extra pair of hands in the field could ease the burden of the already overutilized emergency rooms.

I am sure the physicians who have signed on to become first responders are passionate about the need and probably enjoy the excitement of in-the-field professional experiences, much as my fellow house officer did. However, were I sitting on the committee that controls the funding of programs like this I would want to take a step back and consider whether using primary care physicians, who are already in short supply, as first responders made sense. Some of the scenarios may be dramatic and the physician’s contribution may be life saving. But I suspect in the long run these headline-making stories will be few and far between.

The argument that putting physicians in the field will make a significant dent in the emergency room overutilization crisis we have in this country doesn’t hold water. Extending outpatient office hours, education, and improved phone triage to name just a few would have a bigger impact. I suspect there are other countries and even some counties in this country that may already use physicians as first responders. It just doesn’t seem to be a model that will work well given the realities in most semirural and suburban locales.

The real question that must wait for another Letters From Maine column is how well prepared should all of us who have graduated from medical school be to function as first responders. There are thousands of us out there who initially had the training and could, with some updating, become a valuable source of first-responders. Where do issues like continuing education requirements and Good Samaritan protection fit into the equation? The answers in a future Letter.

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

When I was an intern and junior resident there was a fellow house officer who seemed to be a magnet for out-of-hospital emergencies. There were a couple of car accidents, a baby to be delivered, an elderly neighbor with alarming chest pain, and a little old lady with syncope, plus a few playground incidents that required more than a little on-site tending and triage. It got to the point where he felt he needed to raid the hospital supply closets to build himself a proper emergency kit.

Envious of his excitement I, of course, followed suit. However, my well-appointed plastic tackle box remained unopened on the floor behind the driver’s seat in my car. Sure, there were Band-Aids to be dispensed from time to time but mostly I was the on-site reassurer and triage consultant at the playground. I almost never suggested a trip to the emergency room. No little old ladies crumpled to the floor in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store. No distracted teenage drivers plowed into telephone poles anywhere within earshot.

When I began my practice here on the midcoast of Maine, my protective aura traveled with me. I went looking for excitement by signing on as the team physician for the local high school football team. But, other than a few minor concussions, which in those days we “treated” with a “sit on the bench for awhile and I’ll ask you a few questions,” my first responder experiences continued to be boringly undramatic. Not even any obvious dislocations or angulated fractures on the playground or athletic fields I frequented.

My professional adventures were confined to the hospital, where every physician regardless of specialty training was required to take a shift covering the emergency room. Talk about a situation looking for trouble. The concept of physicians with specialty training in emergency room medicine had not yet occurred to anyone in rural Maine. Although there were anxiety-provoking nights waiting for the disasters to arrive, somehow the shit never hit the fan while I was on duty.

Finally, after several more years of this bad (or good) fortune I was on a bike ride out in the country alone on a back road and came upon a fresh single-vehicle-single-occupant accident. Steam and smoke coming out of the engine compartment, the young driver slumped over the steering wheel. I was able to pry the door open but couldn’t find a pulse. I thumped him three times on the chest and eventually could detect a pulse and he began to stir. When the ambulance arrived I dragged my bike into the back of the ambulance with me and monitored him on the way to the hospital. He did fine, only to die in another accident a few years later.

A recent article in one of our local newspapers described a fledgling program in which three emergency room physicians are being equipped with supplies and communication links that will allow them to respond to emergent situations in the field. The program is currently seeking to extend its funding for another year. Its advocates argue that the need is twofold. There is currently a regional shortage of fully trained first responder EMTs. And having an extra pair of hands in the field could ease the burden of the already overutilized emergency rooms.

I am sure the physicians who have signed on to become first responders are passionate about the need and probably enjoy the excitement of in-the-field professional experiences, much as my fellow house officer did. However, were I sitting on the committee that controls the funding of programs like this I would want to take a step back and consider whether using primary care physicians, who are already in short supply, as first responders made sense. Some of the scenarios may be dramatic and the physician’s contribution may be life saving. But I suspect in the long run these headline-making stories will be few and far between.

The argument that putting physicians in the field will make a significant dent in the emergency room overutilization crisis we have in this country doesn’t hold water. Extending outpatient office hours, education, and improved phone triage to name just a few would have a bigger impact. I suspect there are other countries and even some counties in this country that may already use physicians as first responders. It just doesn’t seem to be a model that will work well given the realities in most semirural and suburban locales.

The real question that must wait for another Letters From Maine column is how well prepared should all of us who have graduated from medical school be to function as first responders. There are thousands of us out there who initially had the training and could, with some updating, become a valuable source of first-responders. Where do issues like continuing education requirements and Good Samaritan protection fit into the equation? The answers in a future Letter.

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

When I was an intern and junior resident there was a fellow house officer who seemed to be a magnet for out-of-hospital emergencies. There were a couple of car accidents, a baby to be delivered, an elderly neighbor with alarming chest pain, and a little old lady with syncope, plus a few playground incidents that required more than a little on-site tending and triage. It got to the point where he felt he needed to raid the hospital supply closets to build himself a proper emergency kit.

Envious of his excitement I, of course, followed suit. However, my well-appointed plastic tackle box remained unopened on the floor behind the driver’s seat in my car. Sure, there were Band-Aids to be dispensed from time to time but mostly I was the on-site reassurer and triage consultant at the playground. I almost never suggested a trip to the emergency room. No little old ladies crumpled to the floor in front of me in the checkout line at the grocery store. No distracted teenage drivers plowed into telephone poles anywhere within earshot.

When I began my practice here on the midcoast of Maine, my protective aura traveled with me. I went looking for excitement by signing on as the team physician for the local high school football team. But, other than a few minor concussions, which in those days we “treated” with a “sit on the bench for awhile and I’ll ask you a few questions,” my first responder experiences continued to be boringly undramatic. Not even any obvious dislocations or angulated fractures on the playground or athletic fields I frequented.

My professional adventures were confined to the hospital, where every physician regardless of specialty training was required to take a shift covering the emergency room. Talk about a situation looking for trouble. The concept of physicians with specialty training in emergency room medicine had not yet occurred to anyone in rural Maine. Although there were anxiety-provoking nights waiting for the disasters to arrive, somehow the shit never hit the fan while I was on duty.

Finally, after several more years of this bad (or good) fortune I was on a bike ride out in the country alone on a back road and came upon a fresh single-vehicle-single-occupant accident. Steam and smoke coming out of the engine compartment, the young driver slumped over the steering wheel. I was able to pry the door open but couldn’t find a pulse. I thumped him three times on the chest and eventually could detect a pulse and he began to stir. When the ambulance arrived I dragged my bike into the back of the ambulance with me and monitored him on the way to the hospital. He did fine, only to die in another accident a few years later.

A recent article in one of our local newspapers described a fledgling program in which three emergency room physicians are being equipped with supplies and communication links that will allow them to respond to emergent situations in the field. The program is currently seeking to extend its funding for another year. Its advocates argue that the need is twofold. There is currently a regional shortage of fully trained first responder EMTs. And having an extra pair of hands in the field could ease the burden of the already overutilized emergency rooms.

I am sure the physicians who have signed on to become first responders are passionate about the need and probably enjoy the excitement of in-the-field professional experiences, much as my fellow house officer did. However, were I sitting on the committee that controls the funding of programs like this I would want to take a step back and consider whether using primary care physicians, who are already in short supply, as first responders made sense. Some of the scenarios may be dramatic and the physician’s contribution may be life saving. But I suspect in the long run these headline-making stories will be few and far between.

The argument that putting physicians in the field will make a significant dent in the emergency room overutilization crisis we have in this country doesn’t hold water. Extending outpatient office hours, education, and improved phone triage to name just a few would have a bigger impact. I suspect there are other countries and even some counties in this country that may already use physicians as first responders. It just doesn’t seem to be a model that will work well given the realities in most semirural and suburban locales.

The real question that must wait for another Letters From Maine column is how well prepared should all of us who have graduated from medical school be to function as first responders. There are thousands of us out there who initially had the training and could, with some updating, become a valuable source of first-responders. Where do issues like continuing education requirements and Good Samaritan protection fit into the equation? The answers in a future Letter.

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

Pathological iron overload with end-organ damage in hemochromatosis occurs in individuals who are homozygous for the major mutation C282Y. Phenotypic hemochromatosis occurs much less frequently in compound heterozygotes with one C282Y mutation and one H63D mutation. Iron overload can be confirmed by magnetic resonance imaging, which shows a loss of signal intensity in affected tissues and avoids the need for liver biopsy.

The serum ferritin level, an acute phase reactant, may be elevated for reasons other than iron overload, including infection and malignancy; in such cases, the iron saturation is usually normal. In patients with liver disease, iron overload is not restricted to patients with genetic hemochromatosis. In nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), up to one-third of patients have an elevated iron saturation (> 45%) and an elevated serum ferritin level. Iron accumulation in NAFLD can occur in hepatocytes, the reticuloendothelial system, or both. Deposition of iron in the reticuloendothelial system has been implicated in more severe liver disease (steatohepatitis and fibrosis) in NAFLD. Hepatic iron accumulation is also frequent in alcohol-associated liver disease. In chronic hepatitis B and C, accumulation of hepatic iron is also recognized.

Dr. Martin is chief of the division of digestive health and liver diseases at the Miller School of Medicine, University of Miami, where he is the Mandel Chair of Gastroenterology. Dr. Friedman is the Anton R. Fried, MD, Chair of the department of medicine at Newton-Wellesley Hospital in Newton, Massachusetts, and assistant chief of medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, and a professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Tufts University School of Medicine, all in Boston. The authors disclosed no conflicts. Previously published in Gastro Hep Advances. 2023 Oct 12. doi: 10.1016/j.gastha.2023.10.004.

Pathological iron overload with end-organ damage in hemochromatosis occurs in individuals who are homozygous for the major mutation C282Y. Phenotypic hemochromatosis occurs much less frequently in compound heterozygotes with one C282Y mutation and one H63D mutation. Iron overload can be confirmed by magnetic resonance imaging, which shows a loss of signal intensity in affected tissues and avoids the need for liver biopsy.

The serum ferritin level, an acute phase reactant, may be elevated for reasons other than iron overload, including infection and malignancy; in such cases, the iron saturation is usually normal. In patients with liver disease, iron overload is not restricted to patients with genetic hemochromatosis. In nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), up to one-third of patients have an elevated iron saturation (> 45%) and an elevated serum ferritin level. Iron accumulation in NAFLD can occur in hepatocytes, the reticuloendothelial system, or both. Deposition of iron in the reticuloendothelial system has been implicated in more severe liver disease (steatohepatitis and fibrosis) in NAFLD. Hepatic iron accumulation is also frequent in alcohol-associated liver disease. In chronic hepatitis B and C, accumulation of hepatic iron is also recognized.

Dr. Martin is chief of the division of digestive health and liver diseases at the Miller School of Medicine, University of Miami, where he is the Mandel Chair of Gastroenterology. Dr. Friedman is the Anton R. Fried, MD, Chair of the department of medicine at Newton-Wellesley Hospital in Newton, Massachusetts, and assistant chief of medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, and a professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Tufts University School of Medicine, all in Boston. The authors disclosed no conflicts. Previously published in Gastro Hep Advances. 2023 Oct 12. doi: 10.1016/j.gastha.2023.10.004.

Pathological iron overload with end-organ damage in hemochromatosis occurs in individuals who are homozygous for the major mutation C282Y. Phenotypic hemochromatosis occurs much less frequently in compound heterozygotes with one C282Y mutation and one H63D mutation. Iron overload can be confirmed by magnetic resonance imaging, which shows a loss of signal intensity in affected tissues and avoids the need for liver biopsy.

The serum ferritin level, an acute phase reactant, may be elevated for reasons other than iron overload, including infection and malignancy; in such cases, the iron saturation is usually normal. In patients with liver disease, iron overload is not restricted to patients with genetic hemochromatosis. In nonalcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), up to one-third of patients have an elevated iron saturation (> 45%) and an elevated serum ferritin level. Iron accumulation in NAFLD can occur in hepatocytes, the reticuloendothelial system, or both. Deposition of iron in the reticuloendothelial system has been implicated in more severe liver disease (steatohepatitis and fibrosis) in NAFLD. Hepatic iron accumulation is also frequent in alcohol-associated liver disease. In chronic hepatitis B and C, accumulation of hepatic iron is also recognized.

Dr. Martin is chief of the division of digestive health and liver diseases at the Miller School of Medicine, University of Miami, where he is the Mandel Chair of Gastroenterology. Dr. Friedman is the Anton R. Fried, MD, Chair of the department of medicine at Newton-Wellesley Hospital in Newton, Massachusetts, and assistant chief of medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, and a professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School and Tufts University School of Medicine, all in Boston. The authors disclosed no conflicts. Previously published in Gastro Hep Advances. 2023 Oct 12. doi: 10.1016/j.gastha.2023.10.004.

An 88-year-old man comes for clinic follow up. He has a medical history of type 2 diabetes, hypertension, heart failure with reduced ejection fraction, and chronic kidney disease. He recently had laboratory tests done: BUN, 32 mg/dL; creatinine, 2.3 mg/dL; potassium, 4.5 mmol/L; bicarbonate, 22 Eq/L; and A1c, 8.2%.

He checks his blood glucose daily (alternating between fasting blood glucose and before dinner) and his fasting blood glucose levels are around 130 mg/dL. His highest glucose reading was 240 mg/dL. He does not have polyuria or visual changes. Current medications: atorvastatin, irbesartan, empagliflozin, and amlodipine. On physical exam his blood pressure is 130/70 mm Hg, pulse is 80, and his BMI 20.

What medication adjustments would you recommend?

A. Begin insulin glargine at bedtime

B. Begin mealtime insulin aspart

C. Begin semaglutide

D. Begin metformin

E. No changes

I think the correct approach here would be no changes. Most physicians know guideline recommendations for A1c of less than 7% are used for patients with diabetes with few comorbid conditions, normal cognition, and functional status. Many of our elderly patients do not meet these criteria and the goal of intense medical treatment of diabetes is different in those patients. The American Diabetes Association has issued a thoughtful paper on treatment of diabetes in elderly people, stressing that patients should have very individualized goals, and that there is no one-size-fits all A1c goal.¹

In this patient I would avoid adding insulin, given hypoglycemia risk. A GLP-1 agonist might appear attractive given his multiple cardiovascular risk factors, but his low BMI is a major concern for frailty that may well be worsened with reduced nutrient intake. Diabetes is the chronic condition that probably has the most guidance for management in elderly patients.

I recently saw a 92-year-old man with heart failure with reduced ejection fraction and atrial fibrillation who had been losing weight and becoming weaker. He had suffered several falls in the previous 2 weeks. His medication list included amiodarone, apixaban, sacubitril/valsartan, carvedilol, empagliflozin, spironolactone, and furosemide. He was extremely frail and had stopped eating. He was receiving all guideline-directed therapies, yet he was miserable and dying. Falls in this population are potentially as fatal as decompensated heart disease.

I stopped his amiodarone, furosemide, and spironolactone, and reduced his doses of sacubitril/valsartan and carvedilol. His appetite returned and his will to live returned. Heart failure guidelines do not include robust studies of very elderly patients because few studies exist in this population. Frailty assessment is crucial in decision making in your elderly patients.^2,3 and frequent check-ins to make sure that they are not suffering from the effects of polypharmacy are crucial. Our goal in our very elderly patients is quality life-years. Polypharmacy has the potential to decrease the quality of life, as well as potentially shorten life.

The very elderly are at risk of the negative consequences of polypharmacy, especially if they have several diseases like diabetes, congestive heart failure, and hypertension that may require multiple medications. Gutierrez-Valencia and colleagues performed a systematic review of 25 articles on frailty and polypharmacy.⁴ Their findings demonstrated a significant association between an increased number of medications and frailty. They postulated that polypharmacy could actually be a contributor to frailty. There just isn’t enough evidence for the benefit of guidelines in the very aged and the risks of polypharmacy are real. We should use the lowest possible doses of medications in this population, frequently reassess goals, and monitor closely for side effects.


Pearl: Always consider the risks of polypharmacy when considering therapies for your elderly patients.
 

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. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Older Adults: Standards of Medical Care in Diabetes — 2021. Diabetes Care 2021;44(Suppl 1):S168–S179.

2. Gaur A et al. Cardiogeriatrics: The current state of the art. Heart. 2024 Jan 11:heartjnl-2022-322117.

3. Denfeld QE et al. Assessing and managing frailty in advanced heart failure: An International Society for Heart and Lung Transplantation consensus statement. J Heart Lung Transplant. 2023 Nov 29:S1053-2498(23)02028-4.

4. Gutiérrez-Valencia M et al. The relationship between frailty and polypharmacy in older people: A systematic review. Br J Clin Pharmacol. 2018 Jul;84(7):1432-44.

An 88-year-old man comes for clinic follow up. He has a medical history of type 2 diabetes, hypertension, heart failure with reduced ejection fraction, and chronic kidney disease. He recently had laboratory tests done: BUN, 32 mg/dL; creatinine, 2.3 mg/dL; potassium, 4.5 mmol/L; bicarbonate, 22 Eq/L; and A1c, 8.2%.

He checks his blood glucose daily (alternating between fasting blood glucose and before dinner) and his fasting blood glucose levels are around 130 mg/dL. His highest glucose reading was 240 mg/dL. He does not have polyuria or visual changes. Current medications: atorvastatin, irbesartan, empagliflozin, and amlodipine. On physical exam his blood pressure is 130/70 mm Hg, pulse is 80, and his BMI 20.

What medication adjustments would you recommend?

A. Begin insulin glargine at bedtime

B. Begin mealtime insulin aspart

C. Begin semaglutide

D. Begin metformin

E. No changes

I think the correct approach here would be no changes. Most physicians know guideline recommendations for A1c of less than 7% are used for patients with diabetes with few comorbid conditions, normal cognition, and functional status. Many of our elderly patients do not meet these criteria and the goal of intense medical treatment of diabetes is different in those patients. The American Diabetes Association has issued a thoughtful paper on treatment of diabetes in elderly people, stressing that patients should have very individualized goals, and that there is no one-size-fits all A1c goal.¹

In this patient I would avoid adding insulin, given hypoglycemia risk. A GLP-1 agonist might appear attractive given his multiple cardiovascular risk factors, but his low BMI is a major concern for frailty that may well be worsened with reduced nutrient intake. Diabetes is the chronic condition that probably has the most guidance for management in elderly patients.

I recently saw a 92-year-old man with heart failure with reduced ejection fraction and atrial fibrillation who had been losing weight and becoming weaker. He had suffered several falls in the previous 2 weeks. His medication list included amiodarone, apixaban, sacubitril/valsartan, carvedilol, empagliflozin, spironolactone, and furosemide. He was extremely frail and had stopped eating. He was receiving all guideline-directed therapies, yet he was miserable and dying. Falls in this population are potentially as fatal as decompensated heart disease.

I stopped his amiodarone, furosemide, and spironolactone, and reduced his doses of sacubitril/valsartan and carvedilol. His appetite returned and his will to live returned. Heart failure guidelines do not include robust studies of very elderly patients because few studies exist in this population. Frailty assessment is crucial in decision making in your elderly patients.^2,3 and frequent check-ins to make sure that they are not suffering from the effects of polypharmacy are crucial. Our goal in our very elderly patients is quality life-years. Polypharmacy has the potential to decrease the quality of life, as well as potentially shorten life.

The very elderly are at risk of the negative consequences of polypharmacy, especially if they have several diseases like diabetes, congestive heart failure, and hypertension that may require multiple medications. Gutierrez-Valencia and colleagues performed a systematic review of 25 articles on frailty and polypharmacy.⁴ Their findings demonstrated a significant association between an increased number of medications and frailty. They postulated that polypharmacy could actually be a contributor to frailty. There just isn’t enough evidence for the benefit of guidelines in the very aged and the risks of polypharmacy are real. We should use the lowest possible doses of medications in this population, frequently reassess goals, and monitor closely for side effects.


Pearl: Always consider the risks of polypharmacy when considering therapies for your elderly patients.
 

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. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Older Adults: Standards of Medical Care in Diabetes — 2021. Diabetes Care 2021;44(Suppl 1):S168–S179.

2. Gaur A et al. Cardiogeriatrics: The current state of the art. Heart. 2024 Jan 11:heartjnl-2022-322117.

3. Denfeld QE et al. Assessing and managing frailty in advanced heart failure: An International Society for Heart and Lung Transplantation consensus statement. J Heart Lung Transplant. 2023 Nov 29:S1053-2498(23)02028-4.

4. Gutiérrez-Valencia M et al. The relationship between frailty and polypharmacy in older people: A systematic review. Br J Clin Pharmacol. 2018 Jul;84(7):1432-44.

An 88-year-old man comes for clinic follow up. He has a medical history of type 2 diabetes, hypertension, heart failure with reduced ejection fraction, and chronic kidney disease. He recently had laboratory tests done: BUN, 32 mg/dL; creatinine, 2.3 mg/dL; potassium, 4.5 mmol/L; bicarbonate, 22 Eq/L; and A1c, 8.2%.

He checks his blood glucose daily (alternating between fasting blood glucose and before dinner) and his fasting blood glucose levels are around 130 mg/dL. His highest glucose reading was 240 mg/dL. He does not have polyuria or visual changes. Current medications: atorvastatin, irbesartan, empagliflozin, and amlodipine. On physical exam his blood pressure is 130/70 mm Hg, pulse is 80, and his BMI 20.

What medication adjustments would you recommend?

A. Begin insulin glargine at bedtime

B. Begin mealtime insulin aspart

C. Begin semaglutide

D. Begin metformin

E. No changes

I think the correct approach here would be no changes. Most physicians know guideline recommendations for A1c of less than 7% are used for patients with diabetes with few comorbid conditions, normal cognition, and functional status. Many of our elderly patients do not meet these criteria and the goal of intense medical treatment of diabetes is different in those patients. The American Diabetes Association has issued a thoughtful paper on treatment of diabetes in elderly people, stressing that patients should have very individualized goals, and that there is no one-size-fits all A1c goal.¹

In this patient I would avoid adding insulin, given hypoglycemia risk. A GLP-1 agonist might appear attractive given his multiple cardiovascular risk factors, but his low BMI is a major concern for frailty that may well be worsened with reduced nutrient intake. Diabetes is the chronic condition that probably has the most guidance for management in elderly patients.

I recently saw a 92-year-old man with heart failure with reduced ejection fraction and atrial fibrillation who had been losing weight and becoming weaker. He had suffered several falls in the previous 2 weeks. His medication list included amiodarone, apixaban, sacubitril/valsartan, carvedilol, empagliflozin, spironolactone, and furosemide. He was extremely frail and had stopped eating. He was receiving all guideline-directed therapies, yet he was miserable and dying. Falls in this population are potentially as fatal as decompensated heart disease.

I stopped his amiodarone, furosemide, and spironolactone, and reduced his doses of sacubitril/valsartan and carvedilol. His appetite returned and his will to live returned. Heart failure guidelines do not include robust studies of very elderly patients because few studies exist in this population. Frailty assessment is crucial in decision making in your elderly patients.^2,3 and frequent check-ins to make sure that they are not suffering from the effects of polypharmacy are crucial. Our goal in our very elderly patients is quality life-years. Polypharmacy has the potential to decrease the quality of life, as well as potentially shorten life.

The very elderly are at risk of the negative consequences of polypharmacy, especially if they have several diseases like diabetes, congestive heart failure, and hypertension that may require multiple medications. Gutierrez-Valencia and colleagues performed a systematic review of 25 articles on frailty and polypharmacy.⁴ Their findings demonstrated a significant association between an increased number of medications and frailty. They postulated that polypharmacy could actually be a contributor to frailty. There just isn’t enough evidence for the benefit of guidelines in the very aged and the risks of polypharmacy are real. We should use the lowest possible doses of medications in this population, frequently reassess goals, and monitor closely for side effects.


Pearl: Always consider the risks of polypharmacy when considering therapies for your elderly patients.
 

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. Contact Dr. Paauw at [email protected].

References

1. Older Adults: Standards of Medical Care in Diabetes — 2021. Diabetes Care 2021;44(Suppl 1):S168–S179.

2. Gaur A et al. Cardiogeriatrics: The current state of the art. Heart. 2024 Jan 11:heartjnl-2022-322117.

3. Denfeld QE et al. Assessing and managing frailty in advanced heart failure: An International Society for Heart and Lung Transplantation consensus statement. J Heart Lung Transplant. 2023 Nov 29:S1053-2498(23)02028-4.

4. Gutiérrez-Valencia M et al. The relationship between frailty and polypharmacy in older people: A systematic review. Br J Clin Pharmacol. 2018 Jul;84(7):1432-44.

It’s 2 a.m. and my phone wakes me up with a start. My patient, Christine Z*, is vomiting uncontrollably, and Dr Google has diagnosed her with acute pancreatitis from semaglutide (Wegovy). Ten hours, several imaging studies, one blood draw, and many bags of fluids later, the verdict is in: Christine is alarmingly constipated. In fact, her entire large intestine is packed to the brim with stool. In residency, we called this diagnosis FOS, and I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out what it stands for.

In retrospect, Christine mentions that upon raising her Wegovy dose, her bowel movements had become increasingly smaller and infrequent. This begs the question: How can practitioners help offset side effects through dietary changes, and while we are at it, what other dietary advice is prudent at treatment onset?

Proper nutrition always starts with drinking copious amounts of water. In general, I recommend a minimum of 64 ounces of water daily in patients taking incretins such as semaglutide (Wegovy for weight loss, Ozempic and Rybelsus for type 2 diabetes) or tirzepatide (Zepbound for weight loss, Mounjaro for type 2 diabetes). While these medications don’t directly dehydrate patients, they can increase the risk for dehydration due to severe nausea. Drinking copious amounts of water can prevent dehydration, preserve kidney function, and minimize fatigue and dizziness. In addition, fluids help soften bowel movements, making them easier to pass.

Occasionally incretins make it so easy for patients to drop pounds that their eating patterns become sloppier — more sweets and simple carbohydrates. I recommend a realistic and low glycemic index meal plan. While no foods are strictly contraindicated, processed, high-sugar, and fatty foods are likely to worsen side effects like nausea and gastrointestinal distress. Similarly, alcohol not only worsens nausea, but it’s also likely to exacerbate reflux by relaxing the sphincter that separates the stomach from the esophagus.

The next most important dietary advice is consuming sufficient fiber. In the majority of patients, increasing fiber intake relieves constipation. There are two types of fiber: soluble and insoluble. In practical terms, most fiber-rich foods contain a mixture of these two types. The general recommendation is 38 g/d for men and 25 g/d for women. The caveat to this advice is that a minority of patients, such as those with irritable bowel syndrome, may develop worsening constipation with increasing fiber.

To minimize side effects, some patients find it useful to eat five small meals throughout the day rather than three larger meals. In addition, I recommend eating slowly and stopping before the point of satiety. Finally, because weight loss of any kind is inevitably associated with muscle loss, I stress the importance of adequate protein. In general, I advise 25-30 g of protein per meal.

Christine eventually restarted her Wegovy after recovering from her grueling night in the emergency room. As this was her second go-around on Wegovy, she dug out my “guide to preventing side effects of incretins” and followed it to a T. So far, she’s feeling great.

*The patient’s name has been changed.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s 2 a.m. and my phone wakes me up with a start. My patient, Christine Z*, is vomiting uncontrollably, and Dr Google has diagnosed her with acute pancreatitis from semaglutide (Wegovy). Ten hours, several imaging studies, one blood draw, and many bags of fluids later, the verdict is in: Christine is alarmingly constipated. In fact, her entire large intestine is packed to the brim with stool. In residency, we called this diagnosis FOS, and I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out what it stands for.

In retrospect, Christine mentions that upon raising her Wegovy dose, her bowel movements had become increasingly smaller and infrequent. This begs the question: How can practitioners help offset side effects through dietary changes, and while we are at it, what other dietary advice is prudent at treatment onset?

Proper nutrition always starts with drinking copious amounts of water. In general, I recommend a minimum of 64 ounces of water daily in patients taking incretins such as semaglutide (Wegovy for weight loss, Ozempic and Rybelsus for type 2 diabetes) or tirzepatide (Zepbound for weight loss, Mounjaro for type 2 diabetes). While these medications don’t directly dehydrate patients, they can increase the risk for dehydration due to severe nausea. Drinking copious amounts of water can prevent dehydration, preserve kidney function, and minimize fatigue and dizziness. In addition, fluids help soften bowel movements, making them easier to pass.

Occasionally incretins make it so easy for patients to drop pounds that their eating patterns become sloppier — more sweets and simple carbohydrates. I recommend a realistic and low glycemic index meal plan. While no foods are strictly contraindicated, processed, high-sugar, and fatty foods are likely to worsen side effects like nausea and gastrointestinal distress. Similarly, alcohol not only worsens nausea, but it’s also likely to exacerbate reflux by relaxing the sphincter that separates the stomach from the esophagus.

The next most important dietary advice is consuming sufficient fiber. In the majority of patients, increasing fiber intake relieves constipation. There are two types of fiber: soluble and insoluble. In practical terms, most fiber-rich foods contain a mixture of these two types. The general recommendation is 38 g/d for men and 25 g/d for women. The caveat to this advice is that a minority of patients, such as those with irritable bowel syndrome, may develop worsening constipation with increasing fiber.

To minimize side effects, some patients find it useful to eat five small meals throughout the day rather than three larger meals. In addition, I recommend eating slowly and stopping before the point of satiety. Finally, because weight loss of any kind is inevitably associated with muscle loss, I stress the importance of adequate protein. In general, I advise 25-30 g of protein per meal.

Christine eventually restarted her Wegovy after recovering from her grueling night in the emergency room. As this was her second go-around on Wegovy, she dug out my “guide to preventing side effects of incretins” and followed it to a T. So far, she’s feeling great.

*The patient’s name has been changed.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

It’s 2 a.m. and my phone wakes me up with a start. My patient, Christine Z*, is vomiting uncontrollably, and Dr Google has diagnosed her with acute pancreatitis from semaglutide (Wegovy). Ten hours, several imaging studies, one blood draw, and many bags of fluids later, the verdict is in: Christine is alarmingly constipated. In fact, her entire large intestine is packed to the brim with stool. In residency, we called this diagnosis FOS, and I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out what it stands for.

In retrospect, Christine mentions that upon raising her Wegovy dose, her bowel movements had become increasingly smaller and infrequent. This begs the question: How can practitioners help offset side effects through dietary changes, and while we are at it, what other dietary advice is prudent at treatment onset?

Proper nutrition always starts with drinking copious amounts of water. In general, I recommend a minimum of 64 ounces of water daily in patients taking incretins such as semaglutide (Wegovy for weight loss, Ozempic and Rybelsus for type 2 diabetes) or tirzepatide (Zepbound for weight loss, Mounjaro for type 2 diabetes). While these medications don’t directly dehydrate patients, they can increase the risk for dehydration due to severe nausea. Drinking copious amounts of water can prevent dehydration, preserve kidney function, and minimize fatigue and dizziness. In addition, fluids help soften bowel movements, making them easier to pass.

Occasionally incretins make it so easy for patients to drop pounds that their eating patterns become sloppier — more sweets and simple carbohydrates. I recommend a realistic and low glycemic index meal plan. While no foods are strictly contraindicated, processed, high-sugar, and fatty foods are likely to worsen side effects like nausea and gastrointestinal distress. Similarly, alcohol not only worsens nausea, but it’s also likely to exacerbate reflux by relaxing the sphincter that separates the stomach from the esophagus.

The next most important dietary advice is consuming sufficient fiber. In the majority of patients, increasing fiber intake relieves constipation. There are two types of fiber: soluble and insoluble. In practical terms, most fiber-rich foods contain a mixture of these two types. The general recommendation is 38 g/d for men and 25 g/d for women. The caveat to this advice is that a minority of patients, such as those with irritable bowel syndrome, may develop worsening constipation with increasing fiber.

To minimize side effects, some patients find it useful to eat five small meals throughout the day rather than three larger meals. In addition, I recommend eating slowly and stopping before the point of satiety. Finally, because weight loss of any kind is inevitably associated with muscle loss, I stress the importance of adequate protein. In general, I advise 25-30 g of protein per meal.

Christine eventually restarted her Wegovy after recovering from her grueling night in the emergency room. As this was her second go-around on Wegovy, she dug out my “guide to preventing side effects of incretins” and followed it to a T. So far, she’s feeling great.

*The patient’s name has been changed.
 

A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.