Business of Medicine

ANAHEIM, CALIF. – Black and Hispanic pediatric faculty earn less than their White counterparts regardless of rank and degree, according to a study presented at the American Academy of Pediatrics National Conference.

“Our results demonstrated broad disparities in compensation by both gender and race/ethnicity,” Kimberly Montez, MD, MPH, of the department of pediatrics at Wake Forest University, Winston-Salem, N.C., told attendees.

Arghavan Salles, MD, PhD, of Stanford (Calif.) University and a senior research scholar at the Clayman Institute for Gender Research, also in Stanford, was not involved in this study but conducts similar research and was unsurprised by these findings.

“It may surprise some people that these gender-based disparities persist in pediatrics, given it is a female-dominated specialty,” Dr. Salles said in an interview. “However, we see the same pattern in other female-dominated medical fields, such as obstetrics and gynecology and nursing.”

Dr. Montez, also the associate director of Wake Forest’s Maya Angelou Center for Health Equity and the associate editor for Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice at the journal Pediatrics, told attendees that it’s important for academic medical centers to “identify, acknowledge, and address inequities in compensation models, including conducting transparent salary audits, standardizing new hire compensation benchmarks, and automatic review of salary outliers.”

Among the barriers to advancement that exist in academic medicine for individuals underrepresented in medicine are “racism, bias, discrimination, lack of mentorship, and the minority tax – extra responsibilities placed on individuals in the name of diversity,” Dr. Montez said. She drew attention to an article she coauthored in Pediatrics in August that highlighted how historically underrepresented individuals’ representation declined as rank increased and how the diversity of faculty pediatricians does not reflect that of the U.S. population.

Dr. Salles elaborated on the “minority tax” Dr. Montez referenced.

Faculty who are underrepresented in medicine “unfairly bear the majority of the responsibility to mentor [underrepresented] trainees and are more likely to be asked to serve in diversity, equity, and inclusion roles,” Dr. Salles said. “This work is too often uncompensated and undervalued, thereby affecting compensation.” This work also plays a role in gender salary disparities since women, especially women of color, are more likely to take on these roles, Dr. Salles added.

In this study, Dr. Montez and her colleagues aimed to investigate the differences in pediatric faculty salaries by race, ethnicity, and rank and then assess the association of median salary with race/ethnicity after adjustment for degree, rank, and gender. They conducted a cross-sectional study relying on 2020-2021 pediatric faculty median compensation data from the Association of American Medical Colleges annual Medical School Faculty Salary Survey report. The report had a response rate greater than 98% from the 152 medical schools queried.

For both the AAMC report and this study, individuals underrepresented in medicine included those who are African American/Black, Hispanic, American Indian/Alaska Native, or Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander.

The survey included data on 26,548 pediatric faculty, 58% of whom were women, with a median salary of $216,289. Two-thirds of these faculty (67.2%) were White, 4.5% were Hispanic, and 4.4% were Black. Half (50%) were assistant professors, 25% were associate professors, and 17% were professors.

”Women were overly represented among instructors and assistant professors, while men were overly represented [among] associate professors, professors, chiefs, and chairs,” the authors reported. “Men consistently had higher median salaries among all ranks and races/ethnicities.”

For positions of associate professor, professor, chief, and chair, representation of those underrepresented in medicine decreased compared with their overall percentage, but the trend was the opposite for White faculty, who were overrepresented in higher positions relative to their overall percentage. Those with the lowest median salary across all ranks and races/ethnicities were Hispanic women.

Median salaries for those underrepresented in medicine were lower than salaries of White faculty even after adjustment for degree. Black, Hispanic, and American Indian or Alaska Native faculty also had lower median salaries than White faculty after adjusting for rank, but Asian faculty and those who self-identified as “other” race/ethnicity had slightly higher median salaries than White faculty.

Though the findings were not surprising overall, Dr. Montez did note a couple unexpected findings: Hispanic women earn the least across all ranks and Black men earn the most at the associate and professor levels – though Black men also represent a very tiny percentage of individuals at those ranks in the first place.

Dr. Salles noted that the gender wage gap appears widest for Hispanic physicians, compared with White or Black physicians. “It’s important to keep in mind, though, that due to structural racism, implicit bias, and many other factors, there are very few Black and Hispanic full professors of medicine,” Dr. Salles said.  

“Gender bias, sexism, and misogyny” are among the many factors that contribute to the gender pay gap,” Dr. Salles said, and ”the work of women is not valued in the same way as the work of men.”

She pointed to past research showing that CVs with male names at the top are judged as better than those with female names at the top.

”Similarly, it will be judged as being better if the name is Emily or Greg rather than Lakisha or Jamal,” Dr. Salles said. “These findings suggest we evaluate people’s work through the lens of who we think they are and we automatically judge women and other marginalized people to be less worthy.”

Dr. Montez agreed that discrimination is the most likely reason for the salary disparities between men and women and also noted additional factors.

“Women are more likely to shoulder the household and childcare responsibilities as compared to men and they may accept a lower salary for other benefits, such as flexible work hours [and] onsite childcare,” Dr. Montez said. In addition, she said, since most chairs in academic pediatrics are men, new women faculty may not feel able to negotiate higher salaries, or may feel different pressures than men.

Dr. Salles emphasized the importance of not blaming women for not negotiating enough since “women pay a social penalty when they do negotiate.” This problem is likely compounded for women of color, she added. “Offering equitable packages to begin with, rather than requiring applicants to negotiate, would be more equitable.”

Because the AAMC report data was disaggregated, it’s not possible to identify trends by institution, Dr. Montez said, but the August article specifically recommends “that future data be institution specific, and provide race, ethnicity, sex, and rank information, including hiring and promotion details,” including salary information.

In fact, a publicly available, institution-specific equity dashboard would be a “minimum starting point” for tracking and addressing disparities as well as the effect of any interventions, Dr. Montez said. She noted other potential policies that could ameliorate disparities.

“Given that caregiving responsibilities for women often lead to fewer hours worked, work interruptions, and less opportunity for advancement, restructuring jobs with more flexible work schedules without pay reduction and not limiting advancement based on part-time status could be considered,” Dr. Montez said. ”For promotion, given that individuals [underrepresented in medicine] often shoulder the minority tax, institutions should develop promotion criteria to account for this academic credit. Institutions could also implement an annual salary-monitoring system with corrections, should it reveal disparities.”

Dr. Salles consults for Intuitive Surgical and the Intuitive Foundation, but neither of these are related to diversity, equity, and inclusion. Dr. Montez had no disclosures. The study involved no external funding.

ANAHEIM, CALIF. – Black and Hispanic pediatric faculty earn less than their White counterparts regardless of rank and degree, according to a study presented at the American Academy of Pediatrics National Conference.

“Our results demonstrated broad disparities in compensation by both gender and race/ethnicity,” Kimberly Montez, MD, MPH, of the department of pediatrics at Wake Forest University, Winston-Salem, N.C., told attendees.

Arghavan Salles, MD, PhD, of Stanford (Calif.) University and a senior research scholar at the Clayman Institute for Gender Research, also in Stanford, was not involved in this study but conducts similar research and was unsurprised by these findings.

“It may surprise some people that these gender-based disparities persist in pediatrics, given it is a female-dominated specialty,” Dr. Salles said in an interview. “However, we see the same pattern in other female-dominated medical fields, such as obstetrics and gynecology and nursing.”

Dr. Montez, also the associate director of Wake Forest’s Maya Angelou Center for Health Equity and the associate editor for Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice at the journal Pediatrics, told attendees that it’s important for academic medical centers to “identify, acknowledge, and address inequities in compensation models, including conducting transparent salary audits, standardizing new hire compensation benchmarks, and automatic review of salary outliers.”

Among the barriers to advancement that exist in academic medicine for individuals underrepresented in medicine are “racism, bias, discrimination, lack of mentorship, and the minority tax – extra responsibilities placed on individuals in the name of diversity,” Dr. Montez said. She drew attention to an article she coauthored in Pediatrics in August that highlighted how historically underrepresented individuals’ representation declined as rank increased and how the diversity of faculty pediatricians does not reflect that of the U.S. population.

Dr. Salles elaborated on the “minority tax” Dr. Montez referenced.

Faculty who are underrepresented in medicine “unfairly bear the majority of the responsibility to mentor [underrepresented] trainees and are more likely to be asked to serve in diversity, equity, and inclusion roles,” Dr. Salles said. “This work is too often uncompensated and undervalued, thereby affecting compensation.” This work also plays a role in gender salary disparities since women, especially women of color, are more likely to take on these roles, Dr. Salles added.

In this study, Dr. Montez and her colleagues aimed to investigate the differences in pediatric faculty salaries by race, ethnicity, and rank and then assess the association of median salary with race/ethnicity after adjustment for degree, rank, and gender. They conducted a cross-sectional study relying on 2020-2021 pediatric faculty median compensation data from the Association of American Medical Colleges annual Medical School Faculty Salary Survey report. The report had a response rate greater than 98% from the 152 medical schools queried.

For both the AAMC report and this study, individuals underrepresented in medicine included those who are African American/Black, Hispanic, American Indian/Alaska Native, or Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander.

The survey included data on 26,548 pediatric faculty, 58% of whom were women, with a median salary of $216,289. Two-thirds of these faculty (67.2%) were White, 4.5% were Hispanic, and 4.4% were Black. Half (50%) were assistant professors, 25% were associate professors, and 17% were professors.

”Women were overly represented among instructors and assistant professors, while men were overly represented [among] associate professors, professors, chiefs, and chairs,” the authors reported. “Men consistently had higher median salaries among all ranks and races/ethnicities.”

For positions of associate professor, professor, chief, and chair, representation of those underrepresented in medicine decreased compared with their overall percentage, but the trend was the opposite for White faculty, who were overrepresented in higher positions relative to their overall percentage. Those with the lowest median salary across all ranks and races/ethnicities were Hispanic women.

Median salaries for those underrepresented in medicine were lower than salaries of White faculty even after adjustment for degree. Black, Hispanic, and American Indian or Alaska Native faculty also had lower median salaries than White faculty after adjusting for rank, but Asian faculty and those who self-identified as “other” race/ethnicity had slightly higher median salaries than White faculty.

Though the findings were not surprising overall, Dr. Montez did note a couple unexpected findings: Hispanic women earn the least across all ranks and Black men earn the most at the associate and professor levels – though Black men also represent a very tiny percentage of individuals at those ranks in the first place.

Dr. Salles noted that the gender wage gap appears widest for Hispanic physicians, compared with White or Black physicians. “It’s important to keep in mind, though, that due to structural racism, implicit bias, and many other factors, there are very few Black and Hispanic full professors of medicine,” Dr. Salles said.  

“Gender bias, sexism, and misogyny” are among the many factors that contribute to the gender pay gap,” Dr. Salles said, and ”the work of women is not valued in the same way as the work of men.”

She pointed to past research showing that CVs with male names at the top are judged as better than those with female names at the top.

”Similarly, it will be judged as being better if the name is Emily or Greg rather than Lakisha or Jamal,” Dr. Salles said. “These findings suggest we evaluate people’s work through the lens of who we think they are and we automatically judge women and other marginalized people to be less worthy.”

Dr. Montez agreed that discrimination is the most likely reason for the salary disparities between men and women and also noted additional factors.

“Women are more likely to shoulder the household and childcare responsibilities as compared to men and they may accept a lower salary for other benefits, such as flexible work hours [and] onsite childcare,” Dr. Montez said. In addition, she said, since most chairs in academic pediatrics are men, new women faculty may not feel able to negotiate higher salaries, or may feel different pressures than men.

Dr. Salles emphasized the importance of not blaming women for not negotiating enough since “women pay a social penalty when they do negotiate.” This problem is likely compounded for women of color, she added. “Offering equitable packages to begin with, rather than requiring applicants to negotiate, would be more equitable.”

Because the AAMC report data was disaggregated, it’s not possible to identify trends by institution, Dr. Montez said, but the August article specifically recommends “that future data be institution specific, and provide race, ethnicity, sex, and rank information, including hiring and promotion details,” including salary information.

In fact, a publicly available, institution-specific equity dashboard would be a “minimum starting point” for tracking and addressing disparities as well as the effect of any interventions, Dr. Montez said. She noted other potential policies that could ameliorate disparities.

“Given that caregiving responsibilities for women often lead to fewer hours worked, work interruptions, and less opportunity for advancement, restructuring jobs with more flexible work schedules without pay reduction and not limiting advancement based on part-time status could be considered,” Dr. Montez said. ”For promotion, given that individuals [underrepresented in medicine] often shoulder the minority tax, institutions should develop promotion criteria to account for this academic credit. Institutions could also implement an annual salary-monitoring system with corrections, should it reveal disparities.”

Dr. Salles consults for Intuitive Surgical and the Intuitive Foundation, but neither of these are related to diversity, equity, and inclusion. Dr. Montez had no disclosures. The study involved no external funding.

ANAHEIM, CALIF. – Black and Hispanic pediatric faculty earn less than their White counterparts regardless of rank and degree, according to a study presented at the American Academy of Pediatrics National Conference.

“Our results demonstrated broad disparities in compensation by both gender and race/ethnicity,” Kimberly Montez, MD, MPH, of the department of pediatrics at Wake Forest University, Winston-Salem, N.C., told attendees.

Arghavan Salles, MD, PhD, of Stanford (Calif.) University and a senior research scholar at the Clayman Institute for Gender Research, also in Stanford, was not involved in this study but conducts similar research and was unsurprised by these findings.

“It may surprise some people that these gender-based disparities persist in pediatrics, given it is a female-dominated specialty,” Dr. Salles said in an interview. “However, we see the same pattern in other female-dominated medical fields, such as obstetrics and gynecology and nursing.”

Dr. Montez, also the associate director of Wake Forest’s Maya Angelou Center for Health Equity and the associate editor for Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice at the journal Pediatrics, told attendees that it’s important for academic medical centers to “identify, acknowledge, and address inequities in compensation models, including conducting transparent salary audits, standardizing new hire compensation benchmarks, and automatic review of salary outliers.”

Among the barriers to advancement that exist in academic medicine for individuals underrepresented in medicine are “racism, bias, discrimination, lack of mentorship, and the minority tax – extra responsibilities placed on individuals in the name of diversity,” Dr. Montez said. She drew attention to an article she coauthored in Pediatrics in August that highlighted how historically underrepresented individuals’ representation declined as rank increased and how the diversity of faculty pediatricians does not reflect that of the U.S. population.

Dr. Salles elaborated on the “minority tax” Dr. Montez referenced.

Faculty who are underrepresented in medicine “unfairly bear the majority of the responsibility to mentor [underrepresented] trainees and are more likely to be asked to serve in diversity, equity, and inclusion roles,” Dr. Salles said. “This work is too often uncompensated and undervalued, thereby affecting compensation.” This work also plays a role in gender salary disparities since women, especially women of color, are more likely to take on these roles, Dr. Salles added.

In this study, Dr. Montez and her colleagues aimed to investigate the differences in pediatric faculty salaries by race, ethnicity, and rank and then assess the association of median salary with race/ethnicity after adjustment for degree, rank, and gender. They conducted a cross-sectional study relying on 2020-2021 pediatric faculty median compensation data from the Association of American Medical Colleges annual Medical School Faculty Salary Survey report. The report had a response rate greater than 98% from the 152 medical schools queried.

For both the AAMC report and this study, individuals underrepresented in medicine included those who are African American/Black, Hispanic, American Indian/Alaska Native, or Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander.

The survey included data on 26,548 pediatric faculty, 58% of whom were women, with a median salary of $216,289. Two-thirds of these faculty (67.2%) were White, 4.5% were Hispanic, and 4.4% were Black. Half (50%) were assistant professors, 25% were associate professors, and 17% were professors.

”Women were overly represented among instructors and assistant professors, while men were overly represented [among] associate professors, professors, chiefs, and chairs,” the authors reported. “Men consistently had higher median salaries among all ranks and races/ethnicities.”

For positions of associate professor, professor, chief, and chair, representation of those underrepresented in medicine decreased compared with their overall percentage, but the trend was the opposite for White faculty, who were overrepresented in higher positions relative to their overall percentage. Those with the lowest median salary across all ranks and races/ethnicities were Hispanic women.

Median salaries for those underrepresented in medicine were lower than salaries of White faculty even after adjustment for degree. Black, Hispanic, and American Indian or Alaska Native faculty also had lower median salaries than White faculty after adjusting for rank, but Asian faculty and those who self-identified as “other” race/ethnicity had slightly higher median salaries than White faculty.

Though the findings were not surprising overall, Dr. Montez did note a couple unexpected findings: Hispanic women earn the least across all ranks and Black men earn the most at the associate and professor levels – though Black men also represent a very tiny percentage of individuals at those ranks in the first place.

Dr. Salles noted that the gender wage gap appears widest for Hispanic physicians, compared with White or Black physicians. “It’s important to keep in mind, though, that due to structural racism, implicit bias, and many other factors, there are very few Black and Hispanic full professors of medicine,” Dr. Salles said.  

“Gender bias, sexism, and misogyny” are among the many factors that contribute to the gender pay gap,” Dr. Salles said, and ”the work of women is not valued in the same way as the work of men.”

She pointed to past research showing that CVs with male names at the top are judged as better than those with female names at the top.

”Similarly, it will be judged as being better if the name is Emily or Greg rather than Lakisha or Jamal,” Dr. Salles said. “These findings suggest we evaluate people’s work through the lens of who we think they are and we automatically judge women and other marginalized people to be less worthy.”

Dr. Montez agreed that discrimination is the most likely reason for the salary disparities between men and women and also noted additional factors.

“Women are more likely to shoulder the household and childcare responsibilities as compared to men and they may accept a lower salary for other benefits, such as flexible work hours [and] onsite childcare,” Dr. Montez said. In addition, she said, since most chairs in academic pediatrics are men, new women faculty may not feel able to negotiate higher salaries, or may feel different pressures than men.

Dr. Salles emphasized the importance of not blaming women for not negotiating enough since “women pay a social penalty when they do negotiate.” This problem is likely compounded for women of color, she added. “Offering equitable packages to begin with, rather than requiring applicants to negotiate, would be more equitable.”

Because the AAMC report data was disaggregated, it’s not possible to identify trends by institution, Dr. Montez said, but the August article specifically recommends “that future data be institution specific, and provide race, ethnicity, sex, and rank information, including hiring and promotion details,” including salary information.

In fact, a publicly available, institution-specific equity dashboard would be a “minimum starting point” for tracking and addressing disparities as well as the effect of any interventions, Dr. Montez said. She noted other potential policies that could ameliorate disparities.

“Given that caregiving responsibilities for women often lead to fewer hours worked, work interruptions, and less opportunity for advancement, restructuring jobs with more flexible work schedules without pay reduction and not limiting advancement based on part-time status could be considered,” Dr. Montez said. ”For promotion, given that individuals [underrepresented in medicine] often shoulder the minority tax, institutions should develop promotion criteria to account for this academic credit. Institutions could also implement an annual salary-monitoring system with corrections, should it reveal disparities.”

Dr. Salles consults for Intuitive Surgical and the Intuitive Foundation, but neither of these are related to diversity, equity, and inclusion. Dr. Montez had no disclosures. The study involved no external funding.

A New York psychiatrist who has been suspended from practicing pending an investigation by state licensing authorities has been sentenced to 11 years in state prison for her role in the attempted murder of her child’s father, who is also a psychiatrist.

Pamela Buchbinder pled guilty to first-degree burglary and assault on September 7, almost exactly 10 years after the November 2012 attack on Michael Weiss, MD. Weiss was beaten with a sledgehammer and stabbed multiple times but survived the attack.

The September plea deal was announced by the Manhattan district attorney, who said that Ms. Buchbinder acknowledged she had enlisted the help of her then-19-year-old cousin Jacob Nolan to kill Dr. Weiss. Ms. Buchbinder was in a custody battle with Dr. Weiss over their then-5-year-old child.

At the Oct. 11 sentencing, Ms. Buchbinder and her defense attorney attempted to withdraw that plea. NBC4 New York reported that Buchbinder claimed she was not in her right mind on the day of the plea because she had received a “contact high” from others in her holding cell who were using synthetic marijuana and that she had not taken her prescribed medications that day.

The judge did not entertain the request and proceeded with the sentencing.

Ms. Buchbinder has been held at Rikers Island prison, in East Elmhurst, N.Y., since she was arrested in 2017, so has already served 5 years of her 11-year sentence. She must also serve 5 years of postrelease probation.
 

Insurance policy beneficiary

Ms. Buchbinder’s cousin was convicted of second-degree attempted murder in 2016 and was sentenced to 9.5 years in prison.

In a 2017 interview with CBS News, Mr. Nolan, who said he was “bipolar,” claimed Ms. Buchbinder had manipulated him into trying to kill her child’s father by telling him “horror stories” about Weiss. Soon after the interview, Ms. Buchbinder was arrested.

In 2022, the New York Post reported that Ms. Buchbinder had been named a beneficiary of Dr. Weiss’ $1.5 million life insurance policy several days before the attack.

Prosecutors had surveillance footage of Ms. Buchbinder with Nolan at a Manhattan hardware store purchasing the sledgehammer. According to the CBS report, at the time of her arrest, she also was apparently preparing to flee.

She was denied bail and has been held at Rikers Island since her arrest.

Ms. Buchbinder was licensed to practice in New York in 1999. In April 2018, the New York State Board for Professional Medical Conduct issued an interim order that precluded her from practicing medicine in New York.

The interim order will be in effect until the board completes its investigation. As of press time, the board had not updated its files.

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

A New York psychiatrist who has been suspended from practicing pending an investigation by state licensing authorities has been sentenced to 11 years in state prison for her role in the attempted murder of her child’s father, who is also a psychiatrist.

Pamela Buchbinder pled guilty to first-degree burglary and assault on September 7, almost exactly 10 years after the November 2012 attack on Michael Weiss, MD. Weiss was beaten with a sledgehammer and stabbed multiple times but survived the attack.

The September plea deal was announced by the Manhattan district attorney, who said that Ms. Buchbinder acknowledged she had enlisted the help of her then-19-year-old cousin Jacob Nolan to kill Dr. Weiss. Ms. Buchbinder was in a custody battle with Dr. Weiss over their then-5-year-old child.

At the Oct. 11 sentencing, Ms. Buchbinder and her defense attorney attempted to withdraw that plea. NBC4 New York reported that Buchbinder claimed she was not in her right mind on the day of the plea because she had received a “contact high” from others in her holding cell who were using synthetic marijuana and that she had not taken her prescribed medications that day.

The judge did not entertain the request and proceeded with the sentencing.

Ms. Buchbinder has been held at Rikers Island prison, in East Elmhurst, N.Y., since she was arrested in 2017, so has already served 5 years of her 11-year sentence. She must also serve 5 years of postrelease probation.
 

Insurance policy beneficiary

Ms. Buchbinder’s cousin was convicted of second-degree attempted murder in 2016 and was sentenced to 9.5 years in prison.

In a 2017 interview with CBS News, Mr. Nolan, who said he was “bipolar,” claimed Ms. Buchbinder had manipulated him into trying to kill her child’s father by telling him “horror stories” about Weiss. Soon after the interview, Ms. Buchbinder was arrested.

In 2022, the New York Post reported that Ms. Buchbinder had been named a beneficiary of Dr. Weiss’ $1.5 million life insurance policy several days before the attack.

Prosecutors had surveillance footage of Ms. Buchbinder with Nolan at a Manhattan hardware store purchasing the sledgehammer. According to the CBS report, at the time of her arrest, she also was apparently preparing to flee.

She was denied bail and has been held at Rikers Island since her arrest.

Ms. Buchbinder was licensed to practice in New York in 1999. In April 2018, the New York State Board for Professional Medical Conduct issued an interim order that precluded her from practicing medicine in New York.

The interim order will be in effect until the board completes its investigation. As of press time, the board had not updated its files.

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

A New York psychiatrist who has been suspended from practicing pending an investigation by state licensing authorities has been sentenced to 11 years in state prison for her role in the attempted murder of her child’s father, who is also a psychiatrist.

Pamela Buchbinder pled guilty to first-degree burglary and assault on September 7, almost exactly 10 years after the November 2012 attack on Michael Weiss, MD. Weiss was beaten with a sledgehammer and stabbed multiple times but survived the attack.

The September plea deal was announced by the Manhattan district attorney, who said that Ms. Buchbinder acknowledged she had enlisted the help of her then-19-year-old cousin Jacob Nolan to kill Dr. Weiss. Ms. Buchbinder was in a custody battle with Dr. Weiss over their then-5-year-old child.

At the Oct. 11 sentencing, Ms. Buchbinder and her defense attorney attempted to withdraw that plea. NBC4 New York reported that Buchbinder claimed she was not in her right mind on the day of the plea because she had received a “contact high” from others in her holding cell who were using synthetic marijuana and that she had not taken her prescribed medications that day.

The judge did not entertain the request and proceeded with the sentencing.

Ms. Buchbinder has been held at Rikers Island prison, in East Elmhurst, N.Y., since she was arrested in 2017, so has already served 5 years of her 11-year sentence. She must also serve 5 years of postrelease probation.
 

Insurance policy beneficiary

Ms. Buchbinder’s cousin was convicted of second-degree attempted murder in 2016 and was sentenced to 9.5 years in prison.

In a 2017 interview with CBS News, Mr. Nolan, who said he was “bipolar,” claimed Ms. Buchbinder had manipulated him into trying to kill her child’s father by telling him “horror stories” about Weiss. Soon after the interview, Ms. Buchbinder was arrested.

In 2022, the New York Post reported that Ms. Buchbinder had been named a beneficiary of Dr. Weiss’ $1.5 million life insurance policy several days before the attack.

Prosecutors had surveillance footage of Ms. Buchbinder with Nolan at a Manhattan hardware store purchasing the sledgehammer. According to the CBS report, at the time of her arrest, she also was apparently preparing to flee.

She was denied bail and has been held at Rikers Island since her arrest.

Ms. Buchbinder was licensed to practice in New York in 1999. In April 2018, the New York State Board for Professional Medical Conduct issued an interim order that precluded her from practicing medicine in New York.

The interim order will be in effect until the board completes its investigation. As of press time, the board had not updated its files.

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

Elizabeth Huffner thinks it is obvious: A full-term, healthy pregnancy results in a birth.

“When your due date has come and gone, you’re expecting a baby any minute,” Ms. Huffner said. So she was surprised to discover she was an “unknown accident” – at least from a billing standpoint – when she went to the hospital during labor. Her bill included a charge for something she said she didn’t know she’d ever entered: an obstetrics ED.

That’s where a doctor briefly checked her cervix, timed her contractions, and monitored the fetal heartbeat before telling her to go home and come back later. The area is separated from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department by a curtain. The hospital got about $1,300 for that visit – $530 of it from Ms. Huffner’s pocket.

In recent years, hospitals of every stripe have opened obstetrics EDs, or OBEDs. They come with a requirement that patients with pregnancy or postpartum medical concerns be seen quickly by a qualified provider, which can be important in a real emergency. But it also means healthy patients like Ms. Huffner get bills for emergency care they didn’t know they got.

“It should be a cautionary tale to every woman,” said Ms. Huffner, of Rockford, Ill.

Three of the four major companies that set up and staff OBEDs are affiliated with private equity firms, which are known for making a profit on quick-turnaround investments. Private equity has been around for a long time in other medical specialties, and researchers are now tracking its move into women’s health care, including obstetrics. These private equity–associated practices come with a promise of increased patient satisfaction and better care, which can help the hospital avoid malpractice costs from bad outcomes.

But private equity also is trying to boost revenue. Robert Wachter, MD, chair of the department of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, calls the private equity encroachment into medicine “worrisome.”

“Hospitals will do what they can do to maximize income as long as they’re not breaking the rules,” Dr. Wachter said. “And it sounds like that’s sort of what they’re doing with this ER gambit.”
 

Surprising bills

KHN reviewed the bills of a dozen patients in five states who said they were hit with surprise emergency charges for being triaged in an OBED while in labor. That included a woman in Grand Junction, Colo., who said she felt “gaslit” when she had to pay $300 in emergency charges for the care she received in the small room where they confirmed she was in full-term labor. And in Kansas, a family said they were paying $400 for the same services, also rendered in a “very tiny” room – even though HCA Healthcare, the national for-profit chain that runs the hospital, told KHN that emergency charges are supposed to be waived if the patient is admitted for delivery.

Few of the patients KHN interviewed could recall being told that they were accessing emergency services, nor did they recall entering a space that looked like an ED or was marked as one. Insurance denied the charges in some cases. But in others families were left to pay hundreds of dollars for their share of the tab – adding to already large hospital bills. Several patients reported noticing big jumps in cost for their most recent births, compared with those of previous children, even though they did not notice any changes to the facilities where they delivered.

Three physicians in Colorado told KHN that the hospitals where they work made minimal changes when the institutions opened OBEDs: The facilities were the same triage rooms as before, just with a different sign outside – and different billing practices.

“When I see somebody for a really minor thing, like, someone who comes in at 38 weeks, thinks she’s in labor, but she’s not in labor, gets discharged home – I feel really bad,” said Vanessa Gilliland, MD, who until recently worked as a hospitalist in OBEDs at two hospitals near Denver. “I hope she doesn’t get some $500 bill for just coming in for that.”

The bills generated by encounters with OBEDs can be baffling to patients.

Clara Love and Jonathan Guerra-Rodríguez, MD, an ICU nurse and an internist, respectively, found a charge for the highest level of emergency care in the bill for their son’s birth. It took months of back and forth – and the looming threat of collections – before the hospital explained that the charge was for treatment in an obstetrics ED, the triage area where a nurse examined Ms. Love before she was admitted in full-term labor. “I don’t like using hyperbole, but as a provider I have never seen anything like this,” Dr. Guerra-Rodríguez said.

Patients with medical backgrounds may be more likely than other people to notice these unusual charges, which can be hidden in long or opaque billing documents. A physician assistant in North Carolina and an ICU nurse in Texas also were shocked by the OBED charges they faced.

Figuring out where OBEDs even are can be difficult.

Health departments in California, Colorado, Massachusetts, and New York said they do not track hospitals that open OBEDs because they are considered an extension of a hospital’s main ED. Neither do professional groups like the American Hospital Association, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and the Joint Commission, which accredits health care programs across the country.

Some hospitals state clearly on their websites that they have an OBED. A few hospitals state that visiting their OBED will incur emergency room charges. Other hospitals with OBEDs don’t mention their existence at all.
 

Origins of the OBED concept

Three of the main companies that set up and staff OBEDs – the OB Hospitalist Group, or OBHG; TeamHealth; and Envision Healthcare – are affiliated with private equity firms. The fourth, Pediatrix Medical Group, formerly known as Mednax, is publicly traded. All are for-profit companies.

Several are clear about the revenue benefits of opening OBEDs. TeamHealth – one of the country’s dominant ER staffing companies – is owned by private equity firm Blackstone and has faced criticism from lawmakers for high ER bills. In a document aimed at hospital administrators, TeamHealth says OBEDs are good for “boosting hospital revenues” with “little to no structural investment for the hospital.” It markets OBED success stories to potential customers, highlighting hospitals in California and South Florida where OBEDs reportedly improved patient care – and “produced additional revenue through OBED services.” OBHG, which staffs close to 200 OBEDs in 33 states, markets a scoring tool designed to help hospitals maximize charges from OBEDs and has marketed its services to about 3,000 hospitals.

Staffing companies and hospitals, contacted by KHN, said that OBEDs help deliver better care and that private equity involvement doesn’t impede that care.

Data from Colorado offers a window into how hospitals may be shifting the way they bill for triaging healthy labor. In an analysis for KHN, the Center for Improving Value in Health Care found that the share of uncomplicated vaginal deliveries that had an ED charge embedded in their bills more than doubled in Colorado from 2016 to 2020. It is still a small segment of births, however, rising from 1.4% to 3.3%.

Major staffing companies are set up to charge for every single little thing, said Wayne Farley, MD. He would know: He used to have a leadership role in one of those major staffing companies, the private equity-backed Envision, after it bought his previous employer. Now he’s a practicing ob.gyn. hospitalist at four OBEDs and a consultant who helps hospitals start OBEDs.

“I’ve actually thought about creating a business where I review billings for these patients and help them fight claims,” said Dr. Farley, who thinks a high-level emergency charge makes sense only if the patient had serious complications or required a high level of care.

Proponents of OBEDs say converting a triage room into an obstetrics ED can help pay for a hospital to hire 24/7 hospitalists. In labor and delivery, that means obstetric specialists are available purely to respond to patients who come to the hospital, rather than juggling those cases with clinic visits. Supporters of OBEDs say there’s evidence that having hospitalists on hand is safer for patients and can reduce unnecessary cesarean sections.

“That’s no excuse,” said Lawrence Casalino, MD, a physician and health policy researcher at Weill Cornell Medicine, New York. “To have people get an emergency room charge when they don’t even know they’re in an emergency room – I mean, that doesn’t meet the laugh test.”

But Christopher Swain, MD, who founded the OB Hospitalist Group and is credited with inventing the OBED concept, said that having round-the-clock hospitalists on staff is essential for giving pregnant patients good care and that starting an OBED can help pay for those hospitalists.

Dr. Swain said he started the nation’s first OBED in 2006 in Kissimmee, Fla. He said that, at early-adopter hospitals, OBEDs helped pay to have a doctor available on the labor-and-delivery floor 24/7 and that hospitals subsequently saw better outcomes and lower malpractice rates.

“We feel like we fixed something,” Dr. Swain said. “I feel like we really helped to move the bar to improve the quality of care and to provide better outcomes.”

Dr. Swain is no longer affiliated with OBHG, which has been in private equity hands since at least 2013. The company has recently gone so far as to present OBEDs as part of the solution to the country’s maternal mortality problem. Hospitals such as an Ascension St. Joseph’s hospital in Milwaukee have echoed that statement in their reasons for opening an OBED.

But Dr. Wachter – who coined the term “hospitalist” and who generally believes the presence of hospitalists leads to better care – thinks that reasoning is questionable, especially because hospitals find ways to pay for hospitalists in other specialties without engineering new facility fees.

“I’m always a little skeptical of the justification,” Dr. Wachter said. “They will always have a rationale for why income maximization is a reasonable and moral strategy.”
 

Private equity’s footprint in women’s health care

Dr. Farley estimates that he has helped set up OBEDs – including Colorado’s first in 2013 – in at least 30 hospitals. He’s aware of hospitals that claim they have OBEDs when the only change they’ve made is to have an ob.gyn. on site round the clock.

“You can’t just hang out a shingle and say: ‘We have an OBED.’ It’s an investment on the part of the hospital,” he said. That means having, among other things, a separate entrance from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department, clear signage inside and outside the hospital, and a separate waiting room. Some hospitals he has worked with have invested millions of dollars in upgrading facilities for their OBED.

Private equity firms often promise more efficient management, plus investment in technology and facilities that could improve patient care or satisfaction. In some parts of health care, that could really help, said Ambar La Forgia, PhD, who researches health care management at the University of California, Berkeley, and is studying private equity investment in fertility care. But Dr. La Forgia said that in much of health care, gauging whether such firms are truly maintaining or improving the quality of care is difficult.

“Private equity is about being able to extract some sort of value very quickly,” Dr. La Forgia said. “And in health care, when prices are so opaque and there’s so much lack of transparency, a lot of those impacts on the prices are eventually going to fall on the patient.”

It’s changing circumstances for doctors, too. Michelle Barhaghi, MD, a Colorado obstetrician, said OBEDs may make sense in busy, urban hospitals with lots of patients who did not get prenatal care. But now they’re cropping up everywhere. “From a doctor standpoint, none of us want these jobs because now we’re like a resident again, where we have to see every single patient that walks through that door,” said Dr. Barhaghi, rather than triaging many cases on the phone with a nurse.

Still, private equity is continuing its advance into women’s health care.

Indeed, Dr. Barhaghi said private equity came knocking on her door earlier this year: Women’s Care Enterprises, backed by private equity company BC Partners, wanted to know whether she would consider selling her practice. She said “no.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

Elizabeth Huffner thinks it is obvious: A full-term, healthy pregnancy results in a birth.

“When your due date has come and gone, you’re expecting a baby any minute,” Ms. Huffner said. So she was surprised to discover she was an “unknown accident” – at least from a billing standpoint – when she went to the hospital during labor. Her bill included a charge for something she said she didn’t know she’d ever entered: an obstetrics ED.

That’s where a doctor briefly checked her cervix, timed her contractions, and monitored the fetal heartbeat before telling her to go home and come back later. The area is separated from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department by a curtain. The hospital got about $1,300 for that visit – $530 of it from Ms. Huffner’s pocket.

In recent years, hospitals of every stripe have opened obstetrics EDs, or OBEDs. They come with a requirement that patients with pregnancy or postpartum medical concerns be seen quickly by a qualified provider, which can be important in a real emergency. But it also means healthy patients like Ms. Huffner get bills for emergency care they didn’t know they got.

“It should be a cautionary tale to every woman,” said Ms. Huffner, of Rockford, Ill.

Three of the four major companies that set up and staff OBEDs are affiliated with private equity firms, which are known for making a profit on quick-turnaround investments. Private equity has been around for a long time in other medical specialties, and researchers are now tracking its move into women’s health care, including obstetrics. These private equity–associated practices come with a promise of increased patient satisfaction and better care, which can help the hospital avoid malpractice costs from bad outcomes.

But private equity also is trying to boost revenue. Robert Wachter, MD, chair of the department of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, calls the private equity encroachment into medicine “worrisome.”

“Hospitals will do what they can do to maximize income as long as they’re not breaking the rules,” Dr. Wachter said. “And it sounds like that’s sort of what they’re doing with this ER gambit.”
 

Surprising bills

KHN reviewed the bills of a dozen patients in five states who said they were hit with surprise emergency charges for being triaged in an OBED while in labor. That included a woman in Grand Junction, Colo., who said she felt “gaslit” when she had to pay $300 in emergency charges for the care she received in the small room where they confirmed she was in full-term labor. And in Kansas, a family said they were paying $400 for the same services, also rendered in a “very tiny” room – even though HCA Healthcare, the national for-profit chain that runs the hospital, told KHN that emergency charges are supposed to be waived if the patient is admitted for delivery.

Few of the patients KHN interviewed could recall being told that they were accessing emergency services, nor did they recall entering a space that looked like an ED or was marked as one. Insurance denied the charges in some cases. But in others families were left to pay hundreds of dollars for their share of the tab – adding to already large hospital bills. Several patients reported noticing big jumps in cost for their most recent births, compared with those of previous children, even though they did not notice any changes to the facilities where they delivered.

Three physicians in Colorado told KHN that the hospitals where they work made minimal changes when the institutions opened OBEDs: The facilities were the same triage rooms as before, just with a different sign outside – and different billing practices.

“When I see somebody for a really minor thing, like, someone who comes in at 38 weeks, thinks she’s in labor, but she’s not in labor, gets discharged home – I feel really bad,” said Vanessa Gilliland, MD, who until recently worked as a hospitalist in OBEDs at two hospitals near Denver. “I hope she doesn’t get some $500 bill for just coming in for that.”

The bills generated by encounters with OBEDs can be baffling to patients.

Clara Love and Jonathan Guerra-Rodríguez, MD, an ICU nurse and an internist, respectively, found a charge for the highest level of emergency care in the bill for their son’s birth. It took months of back and forth – and the looming threat of collections – before the hospital explained that the charge was for treatment in an obstetrics ED, the triage area where a nurse examined Ms. Love before she was admitted in full-term labor. “I don’t like using hyperbole, but as a provider I have never seen anything like this,” Dr. Guerra-Rodríguez said.

Patients with medical backgrounds may be more likely than other people to notice these unusual charges, which can be hidden in long or opaque billing documents. A physician assistant in North Carolina and an ICU nurse in Texas also were shocked by the OBED charges they faced.

Figuring out where OBEDs even are can be difficult.

Health departments in California, Colorado, Massachusetts, and New York said they do not track hospitals that open OBEDs because they are considered an extension of a hospital’s main ED. Neither do professional groups like the American Hospital Association, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and the Joint Commission, which accredits health care programs across the country.

Some hospitals state clearly on their websites that they have an OBED. A few hospitals state that visiting their OBED will incur emergency room charges. Other hospitals with OBEDs don’t mention their existence at all.
 

Origins of the OBED concept

Three of the main companies that set up and staff OBEDs – the OB Hospitalist Group, or OBHG; TeamHealth; and Envision Healthcare – are affiliated with private equity firms. The fourth, Pediatrix Medical Group, formerly known as Mednax, is publicly traded. All are for-profit companies.

Several are clear about the revenue benefits of opening OBEDs. TeamHealth – one of the country’s dominant ER staffing companies – is owned by private equity firm Blackstone and has faced criticism from lawmakers for high ER bills. In a document aimed at hospital administrators, TeamHealth says OBEDs are good for “boosting hospital revenues” with “little to no structural investment for the hospital.” It markets OBED success stories to potential customers, highlighting hospitals in California and South Florida where OBEDs reportedly improved patient care – and “produced additional revenue through OBED services.” OBHG, which staffs close to 200 OBEDs in 33 states, markets a scoring tool designed to help hospitals maximize charges from OBEDs and has marketed its services to about 3,000 hospitals.

Staffing companies and hospitals, contacted by KHN, said that OBEDs help deliver better care and that private equity involvement doesn’t impede that care.

Data from Colorado offers a window into how hospitals may be shifting the way they bill for triaging healthy labor. In an analysis for KHN, the Center for Improving Value in Health Care found that the share of uncomplicated vaginal deliveries that had an ED charge embedded in their bills more than doubled in Colorado from 2016 to 2020. It is still a small segment of births, however, rising from 1.4% to 3.3%.

Major staffing companies are set up to charge for every single little thing, said Wayne Farley, MD. He would know: He used to have a leadership role in one of those major staffing companies, the private equity-backed Envision, after it bought his previous employer. Now he’s a practicing ob.gyn. hospitalist at four OBEDs and a consultant who helps hospitals start OBEDs.

“I’ve actually thought about creating a business where I review billings for these patients and help them fight claims,” said Dr. Farley, who thinks a high-level emergency charge makes sense only if the patient had serious complications or required a high level of care.

Proponents of OBEDs say converting a triage room into an obstetrics ED can help pay for a hospital to hire 24/7 hospitalists. In labor and delivery, that means obstetric specialists are available purely to respond to patients who come to the hospital, rather than juggling those cases with clinic visits. Supporters of OBEDs say there’s evidence that having hospitalists on hand is safer for patients and can reduce unnecessary cesarean sections.

“That’s no excuse,” said Lawrence Casalino, MD, a physician and health policy researcher at Weill Cornell Medicine, New York. “To have people get an emergency room charge when they don’t even know they’re in an emergency room – I mean, that doesn’t meet the laugh test.”

But Christopher Swain, MD, who founded the OB Hospitalist Group and is credited with inventing the OBED concept, said that having round-the-clock hospitalists on staff is essential for giving pregnant patients good care and that starting an OBED can help pay for those hospitalists.

Dr. Swain said he started the nation’s first OBED in 2006 in Kissimmee, Fla. He said that, at early-adopter hospitals, OBEDs helped pay to have a doctor available on the labor-and-delivery floor 24/7 and that hospitals subsequently saw better outcomes and lower malpractice rates.

“We feel like we fixed something,” Dr. Swain said. “I feel like we really helped to move the bar to improve the quality of care and to provide better outcomes.”

Dr. Swain is no longer affiliated with OBHG, which has been in private equity hands since at least 2013. The company has recently gone so far as to present OBEDs as part of the solution to the country’s maternal mortality problem. Hospitals such as an Ascension St. Joseph’s hospital in Milwaukee have echoed that statement in their reasons for opening an OBED.

But Dr. Wachter – who coined the term “hospitalist” and who generally believes the presence of hospitalists leads to better care – thinks that reasoning is questionable, especially because hospitals find ways to pay for hospitalists in other specialties without engineering new facility fees.

“I’m always a little skeptical of the justification,” Dr. Wachter said. “They will always have a rationale for why income maximization is a reasonable and moral strategy.”
 

Private equity’s footprint in women’s health care

Dr. Farley estimates that he has helped set up OBEDs – including Colorado’s first in 2013 – in at least 30 hospitals. He’s aware of hospitals that claim they have OBEDs when the only change they’ve made is to have an ob.gyn. on site round the clock.

“You can’t just hang out a shingle and say: ‘We have an OBED.’ It’s an investment on the part of the hospital,” he said. That means having, among other things, a separate entrance from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department, clear signage inside and outside the hospital, and a separate waiting room. Some hospitals he has worked with have invested millions of dollars in upgrading facilities for their OBED.

Private equity firms often promise more efficient management, plus investment in technology and facilities that could improve patient care or satisfaction. In some parts of health care, that could really help, said Ambar La Forgia, PhD, who researches health care management at the University of California, Berkeley, and is studying private equity investment in fertility care. But Dr. La Forgia said that in much of health care, gauging whether such firms are truly maintaining or improving the quality of care is difficult.

“Private equity is about being able to extract some sort of value very quickly,” Dr. La Forgia said. “And in health care, when prices are so opaque and there’s so much lack of transparency, a lot of those impacts on the prices are eventually going to fall on the patient.”

It’s changing circumstances for doctors, too. Michelle Barhaghi, MD, a Colorado obstetrician, said OBEDs may make sense in busy, urban hospitals with lots of patients who did not get prenatal care. But now they’re cropping up everywhere. “From a doctor standpoint, none of us want these jobs because now we’re like a resident again, where we have to see every single patient that walks through that door,” said Dr. Barhaghi, rather than triaging many cases on the phone with a nurse.

Still, private equity is continuing its advance into women’s health care.

Indeed, Dr. Barhaghi said private equity came knocking on her door earlier this year: Women’s Care Enterprises, backed by private equity company BC Partners, wanted to know whether she would consider selling her practice. She said “no.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

Elizabeth Huffner thinks it is obvious: A full-term, healthy pregnancy results in a birth.

“When your due date has come and gone, you’re expecting a baby any minute,” Ms. Huffner said. So she was surprised to discover she was an “unknown accident” – at least from a billing standpoint – when she went to the hospital during labor. Her bill included a charge for something she said she didn’t know she’d ever entered: an obstetrics ED.

That’s where a doctor briefly checked her cervix, timed her contractions, and monitored the fetal heartbeat before telling her to go home and come back later. The area is separated from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department by a curtain. The hospital got about $1,300 for that visit – $530 of it from Ms. Huffner’s pocket.

In recent years, hospitals of every stripe have opened obstetrics EDs, or OBEDs. They come with a requirement that patients with pregnancy or postpartum medical concerns be seen quickly by a qualified provider, which can be important in a real emergency. But it also means healthy patients like Ms. Huffner get bills for emergency care they didn’t know they got.

“It should be a cautionary tale to every woman,” said Ms. Huffner, of Rockford, Ill.

Three of the four major companies that set up and staff OBEDs are affiliated with private equity firms, which are known for making a profit on quick-turnaround investments. Private equity has been around for a long time in other medical specialties, and researchers are now tracking its move into women’s health care, including obstetrics. These private equity–associated practices come with a promise of increased patient satisfaction and better care, which can help the hospital avoid malpractice costs from bad outcomes.

But private equity also is trying to boost revenue. Robert Wachter, MD, chair of the department of medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, calls the private equity encroachment into medicine “worrisome.”

“Hospitals will do what they can do to maximize income as long as they’re not breaking the rules,” Dr. Wachter said. “And it sounds like that’s sort of what they’re doing with this ER gambit.”
 

Surprising bills

KHN reviewed the bills of a dozen patients in five states who said they were hit with surprise emergency charges for being triaged in an OBED while in labor. That included a woman in Grand Junction, Colo., who said she felt “gaslit” when she had to pay $300 in emergency charges for the care she received in the small room where they confirmed she was in full-term labor. And in Kansas, a family said they were paying $400 for the same services, also rendered in a “very tiny” room – even though HCA Healthcare, the national for-profit chain that runs the hospital, told KHN that emergency charges are supposed to be waived if the patient is admitted for delivery.

Few of the patients KHN interviewed could recall being told that they were accessing emergency services, nor did they recall entering a space that looked like an ED or was marked as one. Insurance denied the charges in some cases. But in others families were left to pay hundreds of dollars for their share of the tab – adding to already large hospital bills. Several patients reported noticing big jumps in cost for their most recent births, compared with those of previous children, even though they did not notice any changes to the facilities where they delivered.

Three physicians in Colorado told KHN that the hospitals where they work made minimal changes when the institutions opened OBEDs: The facilities were the same triage rooms as before, just with a different sign outside – and different billing practices.

“When I see somebody for a really minor thing, like, someone who comes in at 38 weeks, thinks she’s in labor, but she’s not in labor, gets discharged home – I feel really bad,” said Vanessa Gilliland, MD, who until recently worked as a hospitalist in OBEDs at two hospitals near Denver. “I hope she doesn’t get some $500 bill for just coming in for that.”

The bills generated by encounters with OBEDs can be baffling to patients.

Clara Love and Jonathan Guerra-Rodríguez, MD, an ICU nurse and an internist, respectively, found a charge for the highest level of emergency care in the bill for their son’s birth. It took months of back and forth – and the looming threat of collections – before the hospital explained that the charge was for treatment in an obstetrics ED, the triage area where a nurse examined Ms. Love before she was admitted in full-term labor. “I don’t like using hyperbole, but as a provider I have never seen anything like this,” Dr. Guerra-Rodríguez said.

Patients with medical backgrounds may be more likely than other people to notice these unusual charges, which can be hidden in long or opaque billing documents. A physician assistant in North Carolina and an ICU nurse in Texas also were shocked by the OBED charges they faced.

Figuring out where OBEDs even are can be difficult.

Health departments in California, Colorado, Massachusetts, and New York said they do not track hospitals that open OBEDs because they are considered an extension of a hospital’s main ED. Neither do professional groups like the American Hospital Association, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and the Joint Commission, which accredits health care programs across the country.

Some hospitals state clearly on their websites that they have an OBED. A few hospitals state that visiting their OBED will incur emergency room charges. Other hospitals with OBEDs don’t mention their existence at all.
 

Origins of the OBED concept

Three of the main companies that set up and staff OBEDs – the OB Hospitalist Group, or OBHG; TeamHealth; and Envision Healthcare – are affiliated with private equity firms. The fourth, Pediatrix Medical Group, formerly known as Mednax, is publicly traded. All are for-profit companies.

Several are clear about the revenue benefits of opening OBEDs. TeamHealth – one of the country’s dominant ER staffing companies – is owned by private equity firm Blackstone and has faced criticism from lawmakers for high ER bills. In a document aimed at hospital administrators, TeamHealth says OBEDs are good for “boosting hospital revenues” with “little to no structural investment for the hospital.” It markets OBED success stories to potential customers, highlighting hospitals in California and South Florida where OBEDs reportedly improved patient care – and “produced additional revenue through OBED services.” OBHG, which staffs close to 200 OBEDs in 33 states, markets a scoring tool designed to help hospitals maximize charges from OBEDs and has marketed its services to about 3,000 hospitals.

Staffing companies and hospitals, contacted by KHN, said that OBEDs help deliver better care and that private equity involvement doesn’t impede that care.

Data from Colorado offers a window into how hospitals may be shifting the way they bill for triaging healthy labor. In an analysis for KHN, the Center for Improving Value in Health Care found that the share of uncomplicated vaginal deliveries that had an ED charge embedded in their bills more than doubled in Colorado from 2016 to 2020. It is still a small segment of births, however, rising from 1.4% to 3.3%.

Major staffing companies are set up to charge for every single little thing, said Wayne Farley, MD. He would know: He used to have a leadership role in one of those major staffing companies, the private equity-backed Envision, after it bought his previous employer. Now he’s a practicing ob.gyn. hospitalist at four OBEDs and a consultant who helps hospitals start OBEDs.

“I’ve actually thought about creating a business where I review billings for these patients and help them fight claims,” said Dr. Farley, who thinks a high-level emergency charge makes sense only if the patient had serious complications or required a high level of care.

Proponents of OBEDs say converting a triage room into an obstetrics ED can help pay for a hospital to hire 24/7 hospitalists. In labor and delivery, that means obstetric specialists are available purely to respond to patients who come to the hospital, rather than juggling those cases with clinic visits. Supporters of OBEDs say there’s evidence that having hospitalists on hand is safer for patients and can reduce unnecessary cesarean sections.

“That’s no excuse,” said Lawrence Casalino, MD, a physician and health policy researcher at Weill Cornell Medicine, New York. “To have people get an emergency room charge when they don’t even know they’re in an emergency room – I mean, that doesn’t meet the laugh test.”

But Christopher Swain, MD, who founded the OB Hospitalist Group and is credited with inventing the OBED concept, said that having round-the-clock hospitalists on staff is essential for giving pregnant patients good care and that starting an OBED can help pay for those hospitalists.

Dr. Swain said he started the nation’s first OBED in 2006 in Kissimmee, Fla. He said that, at early-adopter hospitals, OBEDs helped pay to have a doctor available on the labor-and-delivery floor 24/7 and that hospitals subsequently saw better outcomes and lower malpractice rates.

“We feel like we fixed something,” Dr. Swain said. “I feel like we really helped to move the bar to improve the quality of care and to provide better outcomes.”

Dr. Swain is no longer affiliated with OBHG, which has been in private equity hands since at least 2013. The company has recently gone so far as to present OBEDs as part of the solution to the country’s maternal mortality problem. Hospitals such as an Ascension St. Joseph’s hospital in Milwaukee have echoed that statement in their reasons for opening an OBED.

But Dr. Wachter – who coined the term “hospitalist” and who generally believes the presence of hospitalists leads to better care – thinks that reasoning is questionable, especially because hospitals find ways to pay for hospitalists in other specialties without engineering new facility fees.

“I’m always a little skeptical of the justification,” Dr. Wachter said. “They will always have a rationale for why income maximization is a reasonable and moral strategy.”
 

Private equity’s footprint in women’s health care

Dr. Farley estimates that he has helped set up OBEDs – including Colorado’s first in 2013 – in at least 30 hospitals. He’s aware of hospitals that claim they have OBEDs when the only change they’ve made is to have an ob.gyn. on site round the clock.

“You can’t just hang out a shingle and say: ‘We have an OBED.’ It’s an investment on the part of the hospital,” he said. That means having, among other things, a separate entrance from the rest of the labor-and-delivery department, clear signage inside and outside the hospital, and a separate waiting room. Some hospitals he has worked with have invested millions of dollars in upgrading facilities for their OBED.

Private equity firms often promise more efficient management, plus investment in technology and facilities that could improve patient care or satisfaction. In some parts of health care, that could really help, said Ambar La Forgia, PhD, who researches health care management at the University of California, Berkeley, and is studying private equity investment in fertility care. But Dr. La Forgia said that in much of health care, gauging whether such firms are truly maintaining or improving the quality of care is difficult.

“Private equity is about being able to extract some sort of value very quickly,” Dr. La Forgia said. “And in health care, when prices are so opaque and there’s so much lack of transparency, a lot of those impacts on the prices are eventually going to fall on the patient.”

It’s changing circumstances for doctors, too. Michelle Barhaghi, MD, a Colorado obstetrician, said OBEDs may make sense in busy, urban hospitals with lots of patients who did not get prenatal care. But now they’re cropping up everywhere. “From a doctor standpoint, none of us want these jobs because now we’re like a resident again, where we have to see every single patient that walks through that door,” said Dr. Barhaghi, rather than triaging many cases on the phone with a nurse.

Still, private equity is continuing its advance into women’s health care.

Indeed, Dr. Barhaghi said private equity came knocking on her door earlier this year: Women’s Care Enterprises, backed by private equity company BC Partners, wanted to know whether she would consider selling her practice. She said “no.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

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

Many of you know that President Biden created a loan forgiveness program, forgiving up to $10,000 against federal student loans, including graduate and undergraduate education. The Department of Education is supposed to provide up to $20,000 in debt cancellation to Pell Grant recipients who have loans that are held by the Department of Education. Borrowers can get this relief if their income is less than $125,000 for an individual or $250,000 for married couples.

Many people have looked at this and said, “Hey, wait a minute. I paid off my loans. I didn’t get any reimbursement. That isn’t fair.”

One group saddled with massive debt are people who are still carrying their medical school loans, who often still have huge amounts of debt, and either because of the income limits or because they don’t qualify because this debt was accrued long in the past, they’re saying, “What about me? Don’t you want to give any relief to me?”

This is a topic near and dear to my heart because I happen to be at a medical school, NYU, that has decided for the two medical schools it runs – our main campus, NYU in Manhattan and NYU Langone out on Long Island – that we’re going to go tuition free. We’ve done it for a couple of years.

We did it because I think all the administrators and faculty understood the tremendous burden that debt poses on people who both carry forward their undergraduate debt and then have medical school debt. This really leads to very difficult situations – which we have great empathy for – about what specialty you’re going to go into, whether you have to moonlight, and how you’re going to manage a huge burden of debt.

Many people don’t have sympathy out in the public. They say doctors make a large amount of money and they live a nice lifestyle, so we’re not going to relieve their debt. The reality is that, whoever you are, short of Bill Gates or Elon Musk, having hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt is no easy task to live with and to work off.

Still, when we created free tuition at NYU for our medical school, there were many people who paid high tuition fees in the past. Some of them said to us, “What about me?” We decided not to try to do anything retrospectively. The plan was to build up enough money so that we could handle no-cost tuition going forward. We didn’t really have it in our pocketbook to help people who’d already paid their debts or were saddled with NYU debt. Is it fair? No, it’s probably not fair, but it’s an improvement.

That’s what I want people to think about who are saying, “What about my medical school debt? What about my undergraduate plus medical school debt?” I think we should be grateful when efforts are being made to reduce very burdensome student loans that people have. It’s good to give that benefit and move it forward.

Does that mean no one should get anything unless everyone with any kind of debt from school is covered? I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s fair either.

It is possible that we could continue to agitate politically and say, let’s go after some of the health care debt. Let’s go after some of the things that are still driving people to have to work more than they would or to choose specialties that they really don’t want to be in because they have to make up that debt.

It doesn’t mean the last word has been said about the politics of debt relief or, for that matter, the price of going to medical school in the first place and trying to see whether that can be driven down.

I don’t think it’s right to say, “If I can’t benefit, given the huge burden that I’m carrying, then I’m not going to try to give relief to others.” I think we’re relieving debt to the extent that we can do it. The nation can afford it. Going forward is a good thing. It’s wrong to create those gigantic debts in the first place.

What are we going to do about the past? We may decide that we need some sort of forgiveness or reparations for loans that were built up for others going backwards. I wouldn’t hold hostage the future and our children to what was probably a very poor, unethical practice about saddling doctors and others in the past with huge debt.

I’m Art Caplan at the division of medical ethics at New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thank you for watching.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

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

Many of you know that President Biden created a loan forgiveness program, forgiving up to $10,000 against federal student loans, including graduate and undergraduate education. The Department of Education is supposed to provide up to $20,000 in debt cancellation to Pell Grant recipients who have loans that are held by the Department of Education. Borrowers can get this relief if their income is less than $125,000 for an individual or $250,000 for married couples.

Many people have looked at this and said, “Hey, wait a minute. I paid off my loans. I didn’t get any reimbursement. That isn’t fair.”

One group saddled with massive debt are people who are still carrying their medical school loans, who often still have huge amounts of debt, and either because of the income limits or because they don’t qualify because this debt was accrued long in the past, they’re saying, “What about me? Don’t you want to give any relief to me?”

This is a topic near and dear to my heart because I happen to be at a medical school, NYU, that has decided for the two medical schools it runs – our main campus, NYU in Manhattan and NYU Langone out on Long Island – that we’re going to go tuition free. We’ve done it for a couple of years.

We did it because I think all the administrators and faculty understood the tremendous burden that debt poses on people who both carry forward their undergraduate debt and then have medical school debt. This really leads to very difficult situations – which we have great empathy for – about what specialty you’re going to go into, whether you have to moonlight, and how you’re going to manage a huge burden of debt.

Many people don’t have sympathy out in the public. They say doctors make a large amount of money and they live a nice lifestyle, so we’re not going to relieve their debt. The reality is that, whoever you are, short of Bill Gates or Elon Musk, having hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt is no easy task to live with and to work off.

Still, when we created free tuition at NYU for our medical school, there were many people who paid high tuition fees in the past. Some of them said to us, “What about me?” We decided not to try to do anything retrospectively. The plan was to build up enough money so that we could handle no-cost tuition going forward. We didn’t really have it in our pocketbook to help people who’d already paid their debts or were saddled with NYU debt. Is it fair? No, it’s probably not fair, but it’s an improvement.

That’s what I want people to think about who are saying, “What about my medical school debt? What about my undergraduate plus medical school debt?” I think we should be grateful when efforts are being made to reduce very burdensome student loans that people have. It’s good to give that benefit and move it forward.

Does that mean no one should get anything unless everyone with any kind of debt from school is covered? I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s fair either.

It is possible that we could continue to agitate politically and say, let’s go after some of the health care debt. Let’s go after some of the things that are still driving people to have to work more than they would or to choose specialties that they really don’t want to be in because they have to make up that debt.

It doesn’t mean the last word has been said about the politics of debt relief or, for that matter, the price of going to medical school in the first place and trying to see whether that can be driven down.

I don’t think it’s right to say, “If I can’t benefit, given the huge burden that I’m carrying, then I’m not going to try to give relief to others.” I think we’re relieving debt to the extent that we can do it. The nation can afford it. Going forward is a good thing. It’s wrong to create those gigantic debts in the first place.

What are we going to do about the past? We may decide that we need some sort of forgiveness or reparations for loans that were built up for others going backwards. I wouldn’t hold hostage the future and our children to what was probably a very poor, unethical practice about saddling doctors and others in the past with huge debt.

I’m Art Caplan at the division of medical ethics at New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thank you for watching.

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

This transcript has been edited for clarity.

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

Many of you know that President Biden created a loan forgiveness program, forgiving up to $10,000 against federal student loans, including graduate and undergraduate education. The Department of Education is supposed to provide up to $20,000 in debt cancellation to Pell Grant recipients who have loans that are held by the Department of Education. Borrowers can get this relief if their income is less than $125,000 for an individual or $250,000 for married couples.

Many people have looked at this and said, “Hey, wait a minute. I paid off my loans. I didn’t get any reimbursement. That isn’t fair.”

One group saddled with massive debt are people who are still carrying their medical school loans, who often still have huge amounts of debt, and either because of the income limits or because they don’t qualify because this debt was accrued long in the past, they’re saying, “What about me? Don’t you want to give any relief to me?”

This is a topic near and dear to my heart because I happen to be at a medical school, NYU, that has decided for the two medical schools it runs – our main campus, NYU in Manhattan and NYU Langone out on Long Island – that we’re going to go tuition free. We’ve done it for a couple of years.

We did it because I think all the administrators and faculty understood the tremendous burden that debt poses on people who both carry forward their undergraduate debt and then have medical school debt. This really leads to very difficult situations – which we have great empathy for – about what specialty you’re going to go into, whether you have to moonlight, and how you’re going to manage a huge burden of debt.

Many people don’t have sympathy out in the public. They say doctors make a large amount of money and they live a nice lifestyle, so we’re not going to relieve their debt. The reality is that, whoever you are, short of Bill Gates or Elon Musk, having hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt is no easy task to live with and to work off.

Still, when we created free tuition at NYU for our medical school, there were many people who paid high tuition fees in the past. Some of them said to us, “What about me?” We decided not to try to do anything retrospectively. The plan was to build up enough money so that we could handle no-cost tuition going forward. We didn’t really have it in our pocketbook to help people who’d already paid their debts or were saddled with NYU debt. Is it fair? No, it’s probably not fair, but it’s an improvement.

That’s what I want people to think about who are saying, “What about my medical school debt? What about my undergraduate plus medical school debt?” I think we should be grateful when efforts are being made to reduce very burdensome student loans that people have. It’s good to give that benefit and move it forward.

Does that mean no one should get anything unless everyone with any kind of debt from school is covered? I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s fair either.

It is possible that we could continue to agitate politically and say, let’s go after some of the health care debt. Let’s go after some of the things that are still driving people to have to work more than they would or to choose specialties that they really don’t want to be in because they have to make up that debt.

It doesn’t mean the last word has been said about the politics of debt relief or, for that matter, the price of going to medical school in the first place and trying to see whether that can be driven down.

I don’t think it’s right to say, “If I can’t benefit, given the huge burden that I’m carrying, then I’m not going to try to give relief to others.” I think we’re relieving debt to the extent that we can do it. The nation can afford it. Going forward is a good thing. It’s wrong to create those gigantic debts in the first place.

What are we going to do about the past? We may decide that we need some sort of forgiveness or reparations for loans that were built up for others going backwards. I wouldn’t hold hostage the future and our children to what was probably a very poor, unethical practice about saddling doctors and others in the past with huge debt.

I’m Art Caplan at the division of medical ethics at New York University Grossman School of Medicine. Thank you for watching.

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

This article was originally published Oct. 8 on Medscape Editor-In-Chief Eric Topol’s “Ground Truths” column on Substack. 

A recent piece in The Economist about masks, and how at least half of the people in Japan are planning to continue to use masks indefinitely (where there was never a mandate), prompts a deeper look into what has been the secret of Japan’s extraordinary success in the pandemic. Over time it has the least cumulative deaths per capita of any major country in the world. That’s without a zero-Covid policy or any national lockdowns, which is why I have not included China as a comparator.

Before we get into that data, let’s take a look at the age pyramids for Japan and the United States. The No. 1 risk factor for death from COVID-19 is advanced age, and you can see that in Japan about 25% of the population is age 65 and older, whereas in the United States that proportion is substantially reduced at 15%. Sure there are differences in comorbidities such as obesity and diabetes, but there is also the trade-off of a much higher population density in Japan.

Besides masks, which were distributed early on by the government to the population in Japan, there was the “Avoid the 3Cs” cluster-busting strategy, widely disseminated in the spring of 2020, leveraging Pareto’s 80-20 principle, long before there were any vaccines available. For a good portion of the pandemic, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan maintained a strict policy for border control, which while hard to quantify, may certainly have contributed to its success.

Besides these factors, once vaccines became available, Japan got the population with the primary series to 83% rapidly, even after getting a late start by many months compared with the United States, which has peaked at 68%. That’s a big gap.

But that gap got much worse when it came to boosters. Ninety-five percent of Japanese eligible compared with 40.8% of Americans have had a booster shot. Of note, that 95% in Japan pertains to the whole population. In the United States the percentage of people age 65 and older who have had two boosters is currently only 42%. I’ve previously reviewed the important lifesaving impact of two boosters among people age 65 and older from five independent studies during Omicron waves throughout the world.

Now let’s turn to cumulative fatalities in the two countries. There’s a huge, nearly ninefold difference, per capita. Using today’s Covid-19 Dashboard, there are cumulatively 45,533 deaths in Japan and 1,062,560 American deaths. That translates to 1 in 2,758 people in Japan compared with 1 in 315 Americans dying of COVID.

And if we look at excess mortality instead of confirmed COVID deaths, that enormous gap doesn’t change.

Obviously it would be good to have data for other COVID outcomes, such as hospitalizations, ICUs, and Long COVID, but they are not accessible.

Comparing Japan, the country that has fared the best, with the United States, one of the worst pandemic outcome results, leaves us with a sense that Prof Ian MacKay’s “Swiss cheese model” is the best explanation. It’s not just one thing. Masks, consistent evidence-based communication (3Cs) with attention to ventilation and air quality, and the outstanding uptake of vaccines and boosters all contributed to Japan’s success.

There is another factor to add to that model – Paxlovid. Its benefit of reducing hospitalizations and deaths for people over age 65 is unquestionable.

That’s why I had previously modified the Swiss cheese model to add Paxlovid.

But in the United States, where 15% of the population is 65 and older, they account for over 75% of the daily death toll, still in the range of 400 per day. Here, with a very high proportion of people age 65 and older left vulnerable without boosters, or primary vaccines, Paxlovid is only being given to less than 25% of the eligible (age 50+), and less people age 80 and older are getting Paxlovid than those age 45. The reasons that doctors are not prescribing it – worried about interactions for a 5-day course and rebound – are not substantiated.

Bottom line: In the United States we are not protecting our population anywhere near as well as Japan, as grossly evident by the fatalities among people at the highest risk. There needs to be far better uptake of boosters and use of Paxlovid in the age 65+ group, but the need for amped up protection is not at all restricted to this age subgroup. Across all age groups age 18 and over there is an 81% reduction of hospitalizations with two boosters with the most updated CDC data available, through the Omicron BA.5 wave.

No less the previous data through May 2022 showing protection from death across all ages with two boosters

And please don’t forget that around the world, over 20 million lives were saved, just in 2021, the first year of vaccines.

We can learn so much from a model country like Japan. Yes, we need nasal and variant-proof vaccines to effectively deal with the new variants that are already getting legs in places like XBB in Singapore and ones not on the radar yet. But right now we’ve got to do far better for people getting boosters and, when a person age 65 or older gets COVID, Paxlovid. Take a look at the Chris Hayes video segment when he pleaded for Americans to get a booster shot. Every day that vaccine waning of the U.S. population exceeds the small percentage of people who get a booster, our vulnerability increases. If we don’t get that on track, it’s likely going to be a rough winter ahead.

Dr. Topol is director of the Scripps Translational Science Institute in La Jolla, Calif. He has received research grants from the National Institutes of Health and reported conflicts of interest involving Dexcom, Illumina, Molecular Stethoscope, Quest Diagnostics, and Blue Cross Blue Shield Association. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This article was originally published Oct. 8 on Medscape Editor-In-Chief Eric Topol’s “Ground Truths” column on Substack. 

A recent piece in The Economist about masks, and how at least half of the people in Japan are planning to continue to use masks indefinitely (where there was never a mandate), prompts a deeper look into what has been the secret of Japan’s extraordinary success in the pandemic. Over time it has the least cumulative deaths per capita of any major country in the world. That’s without a zero-Covid policy or any national lockdowns, which is why I have not included China as a comparator.

Before we get into that data, let’s take a look at the age pyramids for Japan and the United States. The No. 1 risk factor for death from COVID-19 is advanced age, and you can see that in Japan about 25% of the population is age 65 and older, whereas in the United States that proportion is substantially reduced at 15%. Sure there are differences in comorbidities such as obesity and diabetes, but there is also the trade-off of a much higher population density in Japan.

Besides masks, which were distributed early on by the government to the population in Japan, there was the “Avoid the 3Cs” cluster-busting strategy, widely disseminated in the spring of 2020, leveraging Pareto’s 80-20 principle, long before there were any vaccines available. For a good portion of the pandemic, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan maintained a strict policy for border control, which while hard to quantify, may certainly have contributed to its success.

Besides these factors, once vaccines became available, Japan got the population with the primary series to 83% rapidly, even after getting a late start by many months compared with the United States, which has peaked at 68%. That’s a big gap.

But that gap got much worse when it came to boosters. Ninety-five percent of Japanese eligible compared with 40.8% of Americans have had a booster shot. Of note, that 95% in Japan pertains to the whole population. In the United States the percentage of people age 65 and older who have had two boosters is currently only 42%. I’ve previously reviewed the important lifesaving impact of two boosters among people age 65 and older from five independent studies during Omicron waves throughout the world.

Now let’s turn to cumulative fatalities in the two countries. There’s a huge, nearly ninefold difference, per capita. Using today’s Covid-19 Dashboard, there are cumulatively 45,533 deaths in Japan and 1,062,560 American deaths. That translates to 1 in 2,758 people in Japan compared with 1 in 315 Americans dying of COVID.

And if we look at excess mortality instead of confirmed COVID deaths, that enormous gap doesn’t change.

Obviously it would be good to have data for other COVID outcomes, such as hospitalizations, ICUs, and Long COVID, but they are not accessible.

Comparing Japan, the country that has fared the best, with the United States, one of the worst pandemic outcome results, leaves us with a sense that Prof Ian MacKay’s “Swiss cheese model” is the best explanation. It’s not just one thing. Masks, consistent evidence-based communication (3Cs) with attention to ventilation and air quality, and the outstanding uptake of vaccines and boosters all contributed to Japan’s success.

There is another factor to add to that model – Paxlovid. Its benefit of reducing hospitalizations and deaths for people over age 65 is unquestionable.

That’s why I had previously modified the Swiss cheese model to add Paxlovid.

But in the United States, where 15% of the population is 65 and older, they account for over 75% of the daily death toll, still in the range of 400 per day. Here, with a very high proportion of people age 65 and older left vulnerable without boosters, or primary vaccines, Paxlovid is only being given to less than 25% of the eligible (age 50+), and less people age 80 and older are getting Paxlovid than those age 45. The reasons that doctors are not prescribing it – worried about interactions for a 5-day course and rebound – are not substantiated.

Bottom line: In the United States we are not protecting our population anywhere near as well as Japan, as grossly evident by the fatalities among people at the highest risk. There needs to be far better uptake of boosters and use of Paxlovid in the age 65+ group, but the need for amped up protection is not at all restricted to this age subgroup. Across all age groups age 18 and over there is an 81% reduction of hospitalizations with two boosters with the most updated CDC data available, through the Omicron BA.5 wave.

No less the previous data through May 2022 showing protection from death across all ages with two boosters

And please don’t forget that around the world, over 20 million lives were saved, just in 2021, the first year of vaccines.

We can learn so much from a model country like Japan. Yes, we need nasal and variant-proof vaccines to effectively deal with the new variants that are already getting legs in places like XBB in Singapore and ones not on the radar yet. But right now we’ve got to do far better for people getting boosters and, when a person age 65 or older gets COVID, Paxlovid. Take a look at the Chris Hayes video segment when he pleaded for Americans to get a booster shot. Every day that vaccine waning of the U.S. population exceeds the small percentage of people who get a booster, our vulnerability increases. If we don’t get that on track, it’s likely going to be a rough winter ahead.

Dr. Topol is director of the Scripps Translational Science Institute in La Jolla, Calif. He has received research grants from the National Institutes of Health and reported conflicts of interest involving Dexcom, Illumina, Molecular Stethoscope, Quest Diagnostics, and Blue Cross Blue Shield Association. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

This article was originally published Oct. 8 on Medscape Editor-In-Chief Eric Topol’s “Ground Truths” column on Substack. 

A recent piece in The Economist about masks, and how at least half of the people in Japan are planning to continue to use masks indefinitely (where there was never a mandate), prompts a deeper look into what has been the secret of Japan’s extraordinary success in the pandemic. Over time it has the least cumulative deaths per capita of any major country in the world. That’s without a zero-Covid policy or any national lockdowns, which is why I have not included China as a comparator.

Before we get into that data, let’s take a look at the age pyramids for Japan and the United States. The No. 1 risk factor for death from COVID-19 is advanced age, and you can see that in Japan about 25% of the population is age 65 and older, whereas in the United States that proportion is substantially reduced at 15%. Sure there are differences in comorbidities such as obesity and diabetes, but there is also the trade-off of a much higher population density in Japan.

Besides masks, which were distributed early on by the government to the population in Japan, there was the “Avoid the 3Cs” cluster-busting strategy, widely disseminated in the spring of 2020, leveraging Pareto’s 80-20 principle, long before there were any vaccines available. For a good portion of the pandemic, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan maintained a strict policy for border control, which while hard to quantify, may certainly have contributed to its success.

Besides these factors, once vaccines became available, Japan got the population with the primary series to 83% rapidly, even after getting a late start by many months compared with the United States, which has peaked at 68%. That’s a big gap.

But that gap got much worse when it came to boosters. Ninety-five percent of Japanese eligible compared with 40.8% of Americans have had a booster shot. Of note, that 95% in Japan pertains to the whole population. In the United States the percentage of people age 65 and older who have had two boosters is currently only 42%. I’ve previously reviewed the important lifesaving impact of two boosters among people age 65 and older from five independent studies during Omicron waves throughout the world.

Now let’s turn to cumulative fatalities in the two countries. There’s a huge, nearly ninefold difference, per capita. Using today’s Covid-19 Dashboard, there are cumulatively 45,533 deaths in Japan and 1,062,560 American deaths. That translates to 1 in 2,758 people in Japan compared with 1 in 315 Americans dying of COVID.

And if we look at excess mortality instead of confirmed COVID deaths, that enormous gap doesn’t change.

Obviously it would be good to have data for other COVID outcomes, such as hospitalizations, ICUs, and Long COVID, but they are not accessible.

Comparing Japan, the country that has fared the best, with the United States, one of the worst pandemic outcome results, leaves us with a sense that Prof Ian MacKay’s “Swiss cheese model” is the best explanation. It’s not just one thing. Masks, consistent evidence-based communication (3Cs) with attention to ventilation and air quality, and the outstanding uptake of vaccines and boosters all contributed to Japan’s success.

There is another factor to add to that model – Paxlovid. Its benefit of reducing hospitalizations and deaths for people over age 65 is unquestionable.

That’s why I had previously modified the Swiss cheese model to add Paxlovid.

But in the United States, where 15% of the population is 65 and older, they account for over 75% of the daily death toll, still in the range of 400 per day. Here, with a very high proportion of people age 65 and older left vulnerable without boosters, or primary vaccines, Paxlovid is only being given to less than 25% of the eligible (age 50+), and less people age 80 and older are getting Paxlovid than those age 45. The reasons that doctors are not prescribing it – worried about interactions for a 5-day course and rebound – are not substantiated.

Bottom line: In the United States we are not protecting our population anywhere near as well as Japan, as grossly evident by the fatalities among people at the highest risk. There needs to be far better uptake of boosters and use of Paxlovid in the age 65+ group, but the need for amped up protection is not at all restricted to this age subgroup. Across all age groups age 18 and over there is an 81% reduction of hospitalizations with two boosters with the most updated CDC data available, through the Omicron BA.5 wave.

No less the previous data through May 2022 showing protection from death across all ages with two boosters

And please don’t forget that around the world, over 20 million lives were saved, just in 2021, the first year of vaccines.

We can learn so much from a model country like Japan. Yes, we need nasal and variant-proof vaccines to effectively deal with the new variants that are already getting legs in places like XBB in Singapore and ones not on the radar yet. But right now we’ve got to do far better for people getting boosters and, when a person age 65 or older gets COVID, Paxlovid. Take a look at the Chris Hayes video segment when he pleaded for Americans to get a booster shot. Every day that vaccine waning of the U.S. population exceeds the small percentage of people who get a booster, our vulnerability increases. If we don’t get that on track, it’s likely going to be a rough winter ahead.

Dr. Topol is director of the Scripps Translational Science Institute in La Jolla, Calif. He has received research grants from the National Institutes of Health and reported conflicts of interest involving Dexcom, Illumina, Molecular Stethoscope, Quest Diagnostics, and Blue Cross Blue Shield Association. A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.

Increasing mentorship opportunities for gastroenterology and hepatology residents and medical students from populations underrepresented in medicine is essential to increase diversity in the specialty and improve health disparities among patients, according to a special report published simultaneously in Gastroenterology and three other journals.

“This study helps to establish priorities for diversity, equity and inclusion in our field and informs future interventions to improve workforce diversity and eliminate health care disparities among the patients we serve,” Folasade P. May, MD, PhD, MPhil, the study’s corresponding author and an associate professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, said in a prepared statement.

The report, the result of a partnership between researchers at UCLA and the Intersociety Group on Diversity, reveals the findings of a survey aimed at assessing current perspectives on individuals underrepresented in medicine and health equity within gastroenterology and hepatology. The collaboration involved five gastroenterology professional societies: the American Association for the Study of Liver Disease; American College of Gastroenterology; American Gastroenterological Association; American Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy; and North American Society for Pediatric Gastroenterology, Hepatology and Nutrition.

”The current racial and ethnic composition of the GI and hepatology workforce does not reflect the population of patients served or the current matriculants in medicine,” Harman K. Rahal, MD, of UCLA and Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, and James H. Tabibian, MD, PhD, of UCLA and Olive View–UCLA Medical Center, and colleagues wrote. “As there are several conditions in GI and hepatology with disparities in incidence, treatment, and outcomes, representation of UIM [underrepresented in medicine] individuals is critical to address health disparities.”

The term “underrepresented in medicine” is defined by the Association of American Medical Colleges as “those racial and ethnic populations that are underrepresented in the medical profession relative to their numbers in the general population.” The authors explained that these groups “have traditionally included Latino (i.e., Latino/a/x), Black (or African American), Native American (namely, American Indian, Alaska Native, and Native Hawaiian), Pacific Islander, and mainland Puerto Rican individuals.”

The five gastroenterology and hepatology societies partnered with investigators at UCLA to develop a 33-question electronic survey “to determine perspectives of current racial, ethnic, and gender diversity within GI and hepatology; to assess current views on interventions needed to increase racial, ethnic, and gender diversity in the field; and to collect data on the experiences of UIM individuals and women in our field,” according to the report’s authors. The survey was then distributed to members of those societies, with 1,219 respondents.

The report found that inadequate representation of people from those underrepresented groups in the education and training pipeline was the most frequently reported barrier to improving racial and ethnic diversity in the field (35.4%), followed by insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation in professional leadership (27.9%) and insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation among practicing GI and hepatology professionals in the workplace (26.6%). Only 9% of fellows in GI and hepatology are from groups underrepresented in medicine, according to data from the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education. Furthermore, one study has shown that the proportion of UIM in academic faculty has never exceeded 10% at each academic rank; there has even been a decline recently among junior academic faculty positions. That study also found that only 9% of academic gastroenterologists in the United states identify as underrepresented in medicine, with little change over the last decade.

Potential contributors to this low level of representation, the authors wrote, include “lack of racial and ethnic diversity in the medical training pipeline, nondiverse leadership, bias, racial discrimination, and the notion that UIM physicians may be less likely to promote themselves or be promoted.”

Another potential contributor, however, may be complacency within the field about the need to improve diversity and taking actions to do so.

Increasing mentorship opportunities for gastroenterology and hepatology residents and medical students from populations underrepresented in medicine is essential to increase diversity in the specialty and improve health disparities among patients, according to a special report published simultaneously in Gastroenterology and three other journals.

“This study helps to establish priorities for diversity, equity and inclusion in our field and informs future interventions to improve workforce diversity and eliminate health care disparities among the patients we serve,” Folasade P. May, MD, PhD, MPhil, the study’s corresponding author and an associate professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, said in a prepared statement.

The report, the result of a partnership between researchers at UCLA and the Intersociety Group on Diversity, reveals the findings of a survey aimed at assessing current perspectives on individuals underrepresented in medicine and health equity within gastroenterology and hepatology. The collaboration involved five gastroenterology professional societies: the American Association for the Study of Liver Disease; American College of Gastroenterology; American Gastroenterological Association; American Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy; and North American Society for Pediatric Gastroenterology, Hepatology and Nutrition.

”The current racial and ethnic composition of the GI and hepatology workforce does not reflect the population of patients served or the current matriculants in medicine,” Harman K. Rahal, MD, of UCLA and Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, and James H. Tabibian, MD, PhD, of UCLA and Olive View–UCLA Medical Center, and colleagues wrote. “As there are several conditions in GI and hepatology with disparities in incidence, treatment, and outcomes, representation of UIM [underrepresented in medicine] individuals is critical to address health disparities.”

The term “underrepresented in medicine” is defined by the Association of American Medical Colleges as “those racial and ethnic populations that are underrepresented in the medical profession relative to their numbers in the general population.” The authors explained that these groups “have traditionally included Latino (i.e., Latino/a/x), Black (or African American), Native American (namely, American Indian, Alaska Native, and Native Hawaiian), Pacific Islander, and mainland Puerto Rican individuals.”

The five gastroenterology and hepatology societies partnered with investigators at UCLA to develop a 33-question electronic survey “to determine perspectives of current racial, ethnic, and gender diversity within GI and hepatology; to assess current views on interventions needed to increase racial, ethnic, and gender diversity in the field; and to collect data on the experiences of UIM individuals and women in our field,” according to the report’s authors. The survey was then distributed to members of those societies, with 1,219 respondents.

The report found that inadequate representation of people from those underrepresented groups in the education and training pipeline was the most frequently reported barrier to improving racial and ethnic diversity in the field (35.4%), followed by insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation in professional leadership (27.9%) and insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation among practicing GI and hepatology professionals in the workplace (26.6%). Only 9% of fellows in GI and hepatology are from groups underrepresented in medicine, according to data from the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education. Furthermore, one study has shown that the proportion of UIM in academic faculty has never exceeded 10% at each academic rank; there has even been a decline recently among junior academic faculty positions. That study also found that only 9% of academic gastroenterologists in the United states identify as underrepresented in medicine, with little change over the last decade.

Potential contributors to this low level of representation, the authors wrote, include “lack of racial and ethnic diversity in the medical training pipeline, nondiverse leadership, bias, racial discrimination, and the notion that UIM physicians may be less likely to promote themselves or be promoted.”

Another potential contributor, however, may be complacency within the field about the need to improve diversity and taking actions to do so.

Increasing mentorship opportunities for gastroenterology and hepatology residents and medical students from populations underrepresented in medicine is essential to increase diversity in the specialty and improve health disparities among patients, according to a special report published simultaneously in Gastroenterology and three other journals.

“This study helps to establish priorities for diversity, equity and inclusion in our field and informs future interventions to improve workforce diversity and eliminate health care disparities among the patients we serve,” Folasade P. May, MD, PhD, MPhil, the study’s corresponding author and an associate professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, said in a prepared statement.

The report, the result of a partnership between researchers at UCLA and the Intersociety Group on Diversity, reveals the findings of a survey aimed at assessing current perspectives on individuals underrepresented in medicine and health equity within gastroenterology and hepatology. The collaboration involved five gastroenterology professional societies: the American Association for the Study of Liver Disease; American College of Gastroenterology; American Gastroenterological Association; American Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy; and North American Society for Pediatric Gastroenterology, Hepatology and Nutrition.

”The current racial and ethnic composition of the GI and hepatology workforce does not reflect the population of patients served or the current matriculants in medicine,” Harman K. Rahal, MD, of UCLA and Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, Los Angeles, and James H. Tabibian, MD, PhD, of UCLA and Olive View–UCLA Medical Center, and colleagues wrote. “As there are several conditions in GI and hepatology with disparities in incidence, treatment, and outcomes, representation of UIM [underrepresented in medicine] individuals is critical to address health disparities.”

The term “underrepresented in medicine” is defined by the Association of American Medical Colleges as “those racial and ethnic populations that are underrepresented in the medical profession relative to their numbers in the general population.” The authors explained that these groups “have traditionally included Latino (i.e., Latino/a/x), Black (or African American), Native American (namely, American Indian, Alaska Native, and Native Hawaiian), Pacific Islander, and mainland Puerto Rican individuals.”

The five gastroenterology and hepatology societies partnered with investigators at UCLA to develop a 33-question electronic survey “to determine perspectives of current racial, ethnic, and gender diversity within GI and hepatology; to assess current views on interventions needed to increase racial, ethnic, and gender diversity in the field; and to collect data on the experiences of UIM individuals and women in our field,” according to the report’s authors. The survey was then distributed to members of those societies, with 1,219 respondents.

The report found that inadequate representation of people from those underrepresented groups in the education and training pipeline was the most frequently reported barrier to improving racial and ethnic diversity in the field (35.4%), followed by insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation in professional leadership (27.9%) and insufficient racial and ethnic minority group representation among practicing GI and hepatology professionals in the workplace (26.6%). Only 9% of fellows in GI and hepatology are from groups underrepresented in medicine, according to data from the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education. Furthermore, one study has shown that the proportion of UIM in academic faculty has never exceeded 10% at each academic rank; there has even been a decline recently among junior academic faculty positions. That study also found that only 9% of academic gastroenterologists in the United states identify as underrepresented in medicine, with little change over the last decade.

Potential contributors to this low level of representation, the authors wrote, include “lack of racial and ethnic diversity in the medical training pipeline, nondiverse leadership, bias, racial discrimination, and the notion that UIM physicians may be less likely to promote themselves or be promoted.”

Another potential contributor, however, may be complacency within the field about the need to improve diversity and taking actions to do so.

Each additional 10 minutes of boarding in the emergency department was associated with a 0.8-minute increase in door-to-provider time, on the basis of data from nearly 900 facilities presented at the annual meeting of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

The study was important to conduct at this time because ED boarding is significantly limiting ED physicians to provide optimal care, said Camila Tyminski, MD, of Brown University, Providence, R.I., who presented the findings at the meeting.

“Boarding had steadily been rising prior to the COVID-19 pandemic due to increased ED use. As our data show, boarding had a detrimental impact on ED throughput measures, including increased door to provider time, increased length of stay of the patient discharged from the ED, and increased rate of patients that left before completion of treatment,” she said.

“It was important to understand these trends prior to 2019-2020 because the COVID-19 pandemic and national nursing shortage have drastically worsened boarding. This study provided a framework for future studies on boarding across ED’s nationally since the start of the pandemic,” she added.

“Post-pandemic, we have hit a crisis point,” lead author Anthony Napoli, MD, also of Brown University, said in an interview. “Boarding is largely a hospital capacity problem, but one key fix germane to EM [emergency medicine] is the provider in triage model (PIT). While PIT has been shown to improve efficiency of ED care, a single institution study demonstrated that it was unable to mitigate the effects of boarding. The study of the association of boarding and efficiency of ED operations and intake needed to be shown on a national scale,” he said.

The researchers reviewed cross-sectional ED operational data from the ED Department Benchmarking Alliance (EDBA), a voluntary database that includes self-reports of operational metrics from approximately half of EDs in the United States.

The data set included 892 EDs; freestanding and pediatric EDs, as well as those with missing boarding data, were excluded.

The primary outcome was boarding time, door-to-provider time (D2P), length of stay for discharged patients (LOSD) and the percentage of patients who left the hospital before treatment was complete (LBTC).

In a multivariate analysis, increased boarding time was significantly associated with longer D2P time, LOSD time, and rates of LBTC.

Overall, D2P and LOSD increased by 0.8 minutes and 2.8 minutes, respectively, for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time. LBTC rates increased by 0.1% for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time.

However, boarding did not have a significant impact on operational metrics among hospitals with fewer than 20,000 visits per year.

Although more research is needed, the results indicate that boarding reduces the throughput of nonboarded patients at a ratio of approximately 4:1. The limited impact of ED efficiency measures on operations highlights the need for hospital-based solutions to boarding, Dr. Tyminski concluded.

“Overall, we expected that there would be an association between boarding and reductions in ED intake and operational efficiency,” said Dr. Napoli in an interview. “However, we were surprised the relationship continued to be as strong in a national study of nearly a quarter of all EDs, as it did in our prior local study,” he said. “Every 10 minutes of boarding in an ED is associated with an approximate 0.1% increase in LWBS and a 3-minute increase in LOSD. Extrapolating this association across the country, we predicted that nearly one million patients may have potentially not received ED care due to boarding,” he explained. “Not only does this potentially have a huge impact on hospital finances but also the overall health of our patients,” he added.

The key takeaway from the study is that boarding is a hospital capacity management issue, said Dr. Napoli. Hospital leadership must be directly involved in plans to mitigate or eliminate it to the extent possible; until then, boarding will continue to result in inefficient ED operations, he explained.

“As ED providers, we are limited in what we can do, but one area where we might be able to make the most impact is to optimize the care and throughput of the LOSD patients,” Dr. Tyminski said. More research is needed to see if interventions to reduce boarding correspond with equivalent improvements in emergency department intake and improved ED throughput, she noted.

The study received no outside funding. The researchers disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Each additional 10 minutes of boarding in the emergency department was associated with a 0.8-minute increase in door-to-provider time, on the basis of data from nearly 900 facilities presented at the annual meeting of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

The study was important to conduct at this time because ED boarding is significantly limiting ED physicians to provide optimal care, said Camila Tyminski, MD, of Brown University, Providence, R.I., who presented the findings at the meeting.

“Boarding had steadily been rising prior to the COVID-19 pandemic due to increased ED use. As our data show, boarding had a detrimental impact on ED throughput measures, including increased door to provider time, increased length of stay of the patient discharged from the ED, and increased rate of patients that left before completion of treatment,” she said.

“It was important to understand these trends prior to 2019-2020 because the COVID-19 pandemic and national nursing shortage have drastically worsened boarding. This study provided a framework for future studies on boarding across ED’s nationally since the start of the pandemic,” she added.

“Post-pandemic, we have hit a crisis point,” lead author Anthony Napoli, MD, also of Brown University, said in an interview. “Boarding is largely a hospital capacity problem, but one key fix germane to EM [emergency medicine] is the provider in triage model (PIT). While PIT has been shown to improve efficiency of ED care, a single institution study demonstrated that it was unable to mitigate the effects of boarding. The study of the association of boarding and efficiency of ED operations and intake needed to be shown on a national scale,” he said.

The researchers reviewed cross-sectional ED operational data from the ED Department Benchmarking Alliance (EDBA), a voluntary database that includes self-reports of operational metrics from approximately half of EDs in the United States.

The data set included 892 EDs; freestanding and pediatric EDs, as well as those with missing boarding data, were excluded.

The primary outcome was boarding time, door-to-provider time (D2P), length of stay for discharged patients (LOSD) and the percentage of patients who left the hospital before treatment was complete (LBTC).

In a multivariate analysis, increased boarding time was significantly associated with longer D2P time, LOSD time, and rates of LBTC.

Overall, D2P and LOSD increased by 0.8 minutes and 2.8 minutes, respectively, for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time. LBTC rates increased by 0.1% for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time.

However, boarding did not have a significant impact on operational metrics among hospitals with fewer than 20,000 visits per year.

Although more research is needed, the results indicate that boarding reduces the throughput of nonboarded patients at a ratio of approximately 4:1. The limited impact of ED efficiency measures on operations highlights the need for hospital-based solutions to boarding, Dr. Tyminski concluded.

“Overall, we expected that there would be an association between boarding and reductions in ED intake and operational efficiency,” said Dr. Napoli in an interview. “However, we were surprised the relationship continued to be as strong in a national study of nearly a quarter of all EDs, as it did in our prior local study,” he said. “Every 10 minutes of boarding in an ED is associated with an approximate 0.1% increase in LWBS and a 3-minute increase in LOSD. Extrapolating this association across the country, we predicted that nearly one million patients may have potentially not received ED care due to boarding,” he explained. “Not only does this potentially have a huge impact on hospital finances but also the overall health of our patients,” he added.

The key takeaway from the study is that boarding is a hospital capacity management issue, said Dr. Napoli. Hospital leadership must be directly involved in plans to mitigate or eliminate it to the extent possible; until then, boarding will continue to result in inefficient ED operations, he explained.

“As ED providers, we are limited in what we can do, but one area where we might be able to make the most impact is to optimize the care and throughput of the LOSD patients,” Dr. Tyminski said. More research is needed to see if interventions to reduce boarding correspond with equivalent improvements in emergency department intake and improved ED throughput, she noted.

The study received no outside funding. The researchers disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Each additional 10 minutes of boarding in the emergency department was associated with a 0.8-minute increase in door-to-provider time, on the basis of data from nearly 900 facilities presented at the annual meeting of the American College of Emergency Physicians.

The study was important to conduct at this time because ED boarding is significantly limiting ED physicians to provide optimal care, said Camila Tyminski, MD, of Brown University, Providence, R.I., who presented the findings at the meeting.

“Boarding had steadily been rising prior to the COVID-19 pandemic due to increased ED use. As our data show, boarding had a detrimental impact on ED throughput measures, including increased door to provider time, increased length of stay of the patient discharged from the ED, and increased rate of patients that left before completion of treatment,” she said.

“It was important to understand these trends prior to 2019-2020 because the COVID-19 pandemic and national nursing shortage have drastically worsened boarding. This study provided a framework for future studies on boarding across ED’s nationally since the start of the pandemic,” she added.

“Post-pandemic, we have hit a crisis point,” lead author Anthony Napoli, MD, also of Brown University, said in an interview. “Boarding is largely a hospital capacity problem, but one key fix germane to EM [emergency medicine] is the provider in triage model (PIT). While PIT has been shown to improve efficiency of ED care, a single institution study demonstrated that it was unable to mitigate the effects of boarding. The study of the association of boarding and efficiency of ED operations and intake needed to be shown on a national scale,” he said.

The researchers reviewed cross-sectional ED operational data from the ED Department Benchmarking Alliance (EDBA), a voluntary database that includes self-reports of operational metrics from approximately half of EDs in the United States.

The data set included 892 EDs; freestanding and pediatric EDs, as well as those with missing boarding data, were excluded.

The primary outcome was boarding time, door-to-provider time (D2P), length of stay for discharged patients (LOSD) and the percentage of patients who left the hospital before treatment was complete (LBTC).

In a multivariate analysis, increased boarding time was significantly associated with longer D2P time, LOSD time, and rates of LBTC.

Overall, D2P and LOSD increased by 0.8 minutes and 2.8 minutes, respectively, for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time. LBTC rates increased by 0.1% for each additional 10 minutes of boarding time.

However, boarding did not have a significant impact on operational metrics among hospitals with fewer than 20,000 visits per year.

Although more research is needed, the results indicate that boarding reduces the throughput of nonboarded patients at a ratio of approximately 4:1. The limited impact of ED efficiency measures on operations highlights the need for hospital-based solutions to boarding, Dr. Tyminski concluded.

“Overall, we expected that there would be an association between boarding and reductions in ED intake and operational efficiency,” said Dr. Napoli in an interview. “However, we were surprised the relationship continued to be as strong in a national study of nearly a quarter of all EDs, as it did in our prior local study,” he said. “Every 10 minutes of boarding in an ED is associated with an approximate 0.1% increase in LWBS and a 3-minute increase in LOSD. Extrapolating this association across the country, we predicted that nearly one million patients may have potentially not received ED care due to boarding,” he explained. “Not only does this potentially have a huge impact on hospital finances but also the overall health of our patients,” he added.

The key takeaway from the study is that boarding is a hospital capacity management issue, said Dr. Napoli. Hospital leadership must be directly involved in plans to mitigate or eliminate it to the extent possible; until then, boarding will continue to result in inefficient ED operations, he explained.

“As ED providers, we are limited in what we can do, but one area where we might be able to make the most impact is to optimize the care and throughput of the LOSD patients,” Dr. Tyminski said. More research is needed to see if interventions to reduce boarding correspond with equivalent improvements in emergency department intake and improved ED throughput, she noted.

The study received no outside funding. The researchers disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

A recent medical meeting I attended included multiple sessions on the use of artificial intelligence (AI), a mere preview, I suspect, of what is to come for both patients and physicians.

I vow not to be a contrarian, but I have concerns. If we’d known how cell phones would permeate nearly every waking moment of our lives, would we have built in more protections from the onset?

Although anyone can see the enormous potential of AI in medicine, harnessing the wonders of it without guarding against the dangers could be paramount to texting and driving. 

A palpable disruption in the common work-a-day human interaction is a given. CEOs who mind the bottom line will seek every opportunity to cut personnel whenever machine learning can deliver. As our dependence on algorithms increases, our need to understand electrocardiogram interpretation and echocardiographic calculations will wane. Subtle case information will go undetected. Nuanced subconscious alerts regarding the patient condition will go unnoticed.

These realities are never reflected in the pronouncements of companies who promote and develop AI.
 

The 2-minute echo

In September 2020, Carolyn Lam, MBBS, PhD, and James Hare, MBA, founders of the AI tech company US2.AI, told Healthcare Transformers that AI advances in echocardiology will turn “a manual process of 30 minutes, 250 clicks, with up to 21% variability among fully trained sonographers analyzing the same exam, into an AI-automated process taking 2 minutes, 1 click, with 0% variability.”

Let’s contrast this 2-minute human-machine interaction with the standard 20- to 30-minute human-to-human echocardiography procedure.

Take Mrs. Smith, for instance. She is referred for echocardiography for shortness of breath. She’s shown to a room and instructed to lie down on a table, where she undergoes a brief AI-directed acquisition of images and then a cheery dismissal from the imaging lab. Medical corporate chief financial officers will salivate at the efficiency, the decrease in cost for personnel, and the sharp increase in put-through for the echo lab schedule.

But what if Mrs. Smith gets a standard 30-minute sonographer-directed exam and the astute echocardiographer notes a left ventricular ejection fraction of 38%. A conversation with the patient reveals that she lost her son a few weeks ago. Upon completion of the study, the patient stands up and then adds, “I hope I can sleep in my bed tonight.” Thinking there may be more to the patient’s insomnia than grief-driven anxiety, the sonographer asks her to explain. “I had to sleep in a chair last night because I couldn’t breathe,” Mrs. Smith replies.

The sonographer reasons correctly that Mrs. Smith is likely a few weeks past an acute coronary syndrome for which she didn’t seek attention and is now in heart failure. The consulting cardiologist is alerted. Mrs. Smith is worked into the office schedule a week earlier than planned, and a costly in-patient stay for acute heart failure or worse is avoided.

Here’s a true-life example (some details have been changed to protect the patient’s identity): Mr. Rodriquez was referred for echocardiography because of dizziness. The sonographer notes significant mitral regurgitation and a decline in left ventricular ejection fraction from moderately impaired to severely reduced. When the sonographer inquires about a fresh bruise over Mr. Rodriguez’s left eye, he replies that he “must have fallen, but can’t remember.” The sonographer also notes runs of nonsustained ventricular tachycardia on the echo telemetry, and after a phone call from the echo lab to the ordering physician, Mr. Rodriquez is admitted. Instead of chancing a sudden death at home while awaiting follow-up, he undergoes catheterization and gets an implantable cardioverter defibrillator.

These scenarios illustrate that a 2-minute visit for AI-directed acquisition of echocardiogram images will never garner the protections of a conversation with a human. Any attempts at downplaying the importance of these human interactions are misguided.

Sometimes we embrace the latest advances in medicine while failing to tend to the most rudimentary necessities of data analysis and reporting. Catherine M. Otto, MD, director of the heart valve clinic and a professor of cardiology at the University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle, is a fan of the basics.

At the recent annual congress of the European Society of Cardiology, she commented on the AI-ENHANCED trial, which used an AI decision support algorithm to identify patients with moderate to severe aortic stenosis, which is associated with poor survival if left untreated. She correctly highlighted that while we are discussing the merits of AI-driven assessment of aortic stenosis, we are doing so in an era when many echo interpreters exclude critical information. The vital findings of aortic valve area, Vmax, and ejection fraction are often nowhere to be seen on reports. We should attend to our basic flaws in interpretation and reporting before we shift our focus to AI.
 

Flawed algorithms

Incorrect AI algorithms that are broadly adopted could negatively affect the health of millions.

Perhaps the most unsettling claim is made by causaLens: “Causal AI is the only technology that can reason and make choices like humans do,” the website states. A tantalizing tag line that is categorically untrue.

Our mysterious and complex neurophysiological function of reasoning still eludes understanding, but one thing is certain: medical reasoning originates with listening, seeing, and touching.

As AI infiltrates mainstream medicine, opportunities for hearing, observing, and palpating will be greatly reduced.

Folkert Asselbergs from University Medical Center Utrecht, the Netherlands, who has cautioned against overhyping AI, was the discussant for an ESC study on the use of causal AI to improve  cardiovascular risk estimation.

He flashed a slide of a 2019 Science article on racial bias in an algorithm that U.S. health care systems use.  Remedying that bias “would increase the percentage of Black people receiving additional help from 17.7% to 46.5%,” according to the authors.  

Successful integration of AI-driven technology will come only if we build human interaction into every patient encounter.

I hope I don’t live to see the rise of the physician cyborg.

Artificial intelligence could be the greatest boon since the invention of the stethoscope, but it will be our downfall if we stop administering a healthy dose of humanity to every patient encounter.

Melissa Walton-Shirley, MD, is a clinical cardiologist in Nashville, Tenn., who has retired from full-time invasive cardiology. She disclosed no relevant conflicts of interest.
 

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

Payments to rheumatologists from industry declined early in the COVID-19 pandemic but showed some rebound in 2021, based on information from the Open Payments Database (OPD).

The OPD was established in 2013 to improve transparency in financial relationships between industry and health care professionals in the United States, although many physicians and much of the general public is unaware of the OPD, Anju Murayama of the Medical Governance Research Institute, Tokyo, and colleagues wrote.

georgenight777/Thinkstock

The COVID-19 pandemic may have limited rheumatologists’ involvement with industry, but potential changes in financial relationships during the pandemic have not been well studied, they wrote.

In a study published in the Journal of Rheumatology, the researchers reviewed data from 6,047 rheumatologists who received at least one general payment from industry between August 2013 and December 2021. The total value of the payments was $288,326,257.

The data set included all general payments made to the physicians whose primary specialty was categorized as rheumatology in the National Plan and Provider Enumeration System profile. The payment information came from the OPD and included payments between August 2013 and December 2021.

In this analysis, the periods before and after March 2020 were considered as before and after the pandemic, respectively.

At the onset of the pandemic, monthly payments to rheumatologists overall decreased by 65.1%, and the number of rheumatologists who received payments decreased by 39.8%; a decrease occurred across all levels of payment.

“However, the recovery trend in payments during the pandemic was higher among the rheumatologists with lower payments,” the researchers noted.

The most significant decreases across payment types occurred in travel and accommodation, which dropped by 98.2% at the start of the pandemic. Payments for speaking engagements and meals decreased by 72.3% and 72.0%, respectively, at the start of the pandemic; consulting payments decreased by 23.3%.

The number of rheumatologists with payments ranged from 3,547 in 2020 to 4,444 in 2015, and did not change significantly between 2014 and 2019. However, the median total payments increased from $730 in 2014 to $812 in 2019.

Compared with the 2014-2019 period, the number of rheumatologists with payments in 2020-2021 decreased by 21.7% and the payments per rheumatologist decreased by 41.9% (P < .001 for both).

In 2021, general payments to rheumatologists were still below levels from the 2014-2019 period.

The study findings were limited by the exclusion of rheumatologist without payments and the lack of data on confounding factors, the researchers noted. However, the study is the first to show the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on the financial relationships between U.S. rheumatologists and industry.

“Although there were recovering trends in general payments right after the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, we observed general payments remaining at low levels between 2020 and 2021,” they noted.

A previous study showed that general payments to rheumatologists between 2013 and 2015 were significantly associated with increased prescription of brand-name rheumatology drugs and health care use. But more long-term studies are needed “to investigate whether this downward trend in general payments [observed in the current study] has contributed to reducing undue influence on rheumatologists’ clinical practice,” the researchers concluded.

The study received no outside funding. One coauthor disclosed personal fees from Medical Network Systems unrelated to the current study. The study authors had no financial conflicts related to the current study, but continue to research financial and nonfinancial conflicts of interest among health care professionals and pharmaceutical companies in Japan and the United States.

Payments to rheumatologists from industry declined early in the COVID-19 pandemic but showed some rebound in 2021, based on information from the Open Payments Database (OPD).

The OPD was established in 2013 to improve transparency in financial relationships between industry and health care professionals in the United States, although many physicians and much of the general public is unaware of the OPD, Anju Murayama of the Medical Governance Research Institute, Tokyo, and colleagues wrote.

georgenight777/Thinkstock

The COVID-19 pandemic may have limited rheumatologists’ involvement with industry, but potential changes in financial relationships during the pandemic have not been well studied, they wrote.

In a study published in the Journal of Rheumatology, the researchers reviewed data from 6,047 rheumatologists who received at least one general payment from industry between August 2013 and December 2021. The total value of the payments was $288,326,257.

The data set included all general payments made to the physicians whose primary specialty was categorized as rheumatology in the National Plan and Provider Enumeration System profile. The payment information came from the OPD and included payments between August 2013 and December 2021.

In this analysis, the periods before and after March 2020 were considered as before and after the pandemic, respectively.

At the onset of the pandemic, monthly payments to rheumatologists overall decreased by 65.1%, and the number of rheumatologists who received payments decreased by 39.8%; a decrease occurred across all levels of payment.

“However, the recovery trend in payments during the pandemic was higher among the rheumatologists with lower payments,” the researchers noted.

The most significant decreases across payment types occurred in travel and accommodation, which dropped by 98.2% at the start of the pandemic. Payments for speaking engagements and meals decreased by 72.3% and 72.0%, respectively, at the start of the pandemic; consulting payments decreased by 23.3%.

The number of rheumatologists with payments ranged from 3,547 in 2020 to 4,444 in 2015, and did not change significantly between 2014 and 2019. However, the median total payments increased from $730 in 2014 to $812 in 2019.

Compared with the 2014-2019 period, the number of rheumatologists with payments in 2020-2021 decreased by 21.7% and the payments per rheumatologist decreased by 41.9% (P < .001 for both).

In 2021, general payments to rheumatologists were still below levels from the 2014-2019 period.

The study findings were limited by the exclusion of rheumatologist without payments and the lack of data on confounding factors, the researchers noted. However, the study is the first to show the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on the financial relationships between U.S. rheumatologists and industry.

“Although there were recovering trends in general payments right after the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, we observed general payments remaining at low levels between 2020 and 2021,” they noted.

A previous study showed that general payments to rheumatologists between 2013 and 2015 were significantly associated with increased prescription of brand-name rheumatology drugs and health care use. But more long-term studies are needed “to investigate whether this downward trend in general payments [observed in the current study] has contributed to reducing undue influence on rheumatologists’ clinical practice,” the researchers concluded.

The study received no outside funding. One coauthor disclosed personal fees from Medical Network Systems unrelated to the current study. The study authors had no financial conflicts related to the current study, but continue to research financial and nonfinancial conflicts of interest among health care professionals and pharmaceutical companies in Japan and the United States.

Payments to rheumatologists from industry declined early in the COVID-19 pandemic but showed some rebound in 2021, based on information from the Open Payments Database (OPD).

The OPD was established in 2013 to improve transparency in financial relationships between industry and health care professionals in the United States, although many physicians and much of the general public is unaware of the OPD, Anju Murayama of the Medical Governance Research Institute, Tokyo, and colleagues wrote.

georgenight777/Thinkstock

The COVID-19 pandemic may have limited rheumatologists’ involvement with industry, but potential changes in financial relationships during the pandemic have not been well studied, they wrote.

In a study published in the Journal of Rheumatology, the researchers reviewed data from 6,047 rheumatologists who received at least one general payment from industry between August 2013 and December 2021. The total value of the payments was $288,326,257.

The data set included all general payments made to the physicians whose primary specialty was categorized as rheumatology in the National Plan and Provider Enumeration System profile. The payment information came from the OPD and included payments between August 2013 and December 2021.

In this analysis, the periods before and after March 2020 were considered as before and after the pandemic, respectively.

At the onset of the pandemic, monthly payments to rheumatologists overall decreased by 65.1%, and the number of rheumatologists who received payments decreased by 39.8%; a decrease occurred across all levels of payment.

“However, the recovery trend in payments during the pandemic was higher among the rheumatologists with lower payments,” the researchers noted.

The most significant decreases across payment types occurred in travel and accommodation, which dropped by 98.2% at the start of the pandemic. Payments for speaking engagements and meals decreased by 72.3% and 72.0%, respectively, at the start of the pandemic; consulting payments decreased by 23.3%.

The number of rheumatologists with payments ranged from 3,547 in 2020 to 4,444 in 2015, and did not change significantly between 2014 and 2019. However, the median total payments increased from $730 in 2014 to $812 in 2019.

Compared with the 2014-2019 period, the number of rheumatologists with payments in 2020-2021 decreased by 21.7% and the payments per rheumatologist decreased by 41.9% (P < .001 for both).

In 2021, general payments to rheumatologists were still below levels from the 2014-2019 period.

The study findings were limited by the exclusion of rheumatologist without payments and the lack of data on confounding factors, the researchers noted. However, the study is the first to show the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on the financial relationships between U.S. rheumatologists and industry.

“Although there were recovering trends in general payments right after the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, we observed general payments remaining at low levels between 2020 and 2021,” they noted.

A previous study showed that general payments to rheumatologists between 2013 and 2015 were significantly associated with increased prescription of brand-name rheumatology drugs and health care use. But more long-term studies are needed “to investigate whether this downward trend in general payments [observed in the current study] has contributed to reducing undue influence on rheumatologists’ clinical practice,” the researchers concluded.

The study received no outside funding. One coauthor disclosed personal fees from Medical Network Systems unrelated to the current study. The study authors had no financial conflicts related to the current study, but continue to research financial and nonfinancial conflicts of interest among health care professionals and pharmaceutical companies in Japan and the United States.

What could you do with $18 billion?

I could pay off my mortgage roughly 60,000 times, or take my wife on a never-ending world cruise so we don’t need a mortgage, or at least hire someone to clean my pool regularly so I don’t have to.

A recent report from the OIG found that, in the last 3 years, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services spent $18 billion on drugs for which there’s no proof of significant clinical benefit.

That’s a lot of money on things that may or may not be placebos, some of which are WAY overdue on Food and Drug Administration–mandated efficacy studies. A few have even been on the market so long that they’ve become equally unproven generics.

Now, if you put this in the big picture, that immense amount of money is still only 2% of their total spending in health care. Hell, probably at least 2% of my personal spending is on pointless things, too. So, realistically, you could say 98% of CMS spending is on worthwhile care, which is as it should be.

But the bottom line is that $18 billion is still a lot of money if it’s being spent on fruitless treatments. I’m sure it could be better used in many other programs (refunding it to taxpayers comes out to maybe $55 for each of us, which probably isn’t worth the effort).

As pointed out in the movie “Dave,” shoving that kind of money in even a low-yield savings account would generate at least $180 million in interest each year.

That’s a lot of money, too, that could be used for something. Of course, no one in the government thinks that way. That’s why we all loved the movie.

The problem is that the phrase “no proof of significant clinical benefit” doesn’t mean something doesn’t work. It just means we aren’t sure. Some of those people on one of these drugs may be getting benefit – or not. After all, the placebo effect is remarkably strong. But if they are helping someone, who wants to be the one to tell them “we’re not going to pay for this anymore?”

Another issue is this: Let’s say the drugs only work for 10% of the people who take them ($1.8 billion worth), and for the other 90% it’s iffy ($16.2 billion worth), but the latter want to stay on them anyway, just to be sure. Do we cut them? Or just say that $18 billion is too much money when only 10% are being helped, and cut them all off? I’m sure we could use the money elsewhere (see “Dave” above), so let them find a way to work it out with the manufacturer. The greatest good for the greatest number and all that jazz.

I don’t know, either. Health care dollars are finite, and human suffering is infinite. It’s a balancing act that can’t be won. There are no easy answers.

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

What could you do with $18 billion?

I could pay off my mortgage roughly 60,000 times, or take my wife on a never-ending world cruise so we don’t need a mortgage, or at least hire someone to clean my pool regularly so I don’t have to.

A recent report from the OIG found that, in the last 3 years, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services spent $18 billion on drugs for which there’s no proof of significant clinical benefit.

That’s a lot of money on things that may or may not be placebos, some of which are WAY overdue on Food and Drug Administration–mandated efficacy studies. A few have even been on the market so long that they’ve become equally unproven generics.

Now, if you put this in the big picture, that immense amount of money is still only 2% of their total spending in health care. Hell, probably at least 2% of my personal spending is on pointless things, too. So, realistically, you could say 98% of CMS spending is on worthwhile care, which is as it should be.

But the bottom line is that $18 billion is still a lot of money if it’s being spent on fruitless treatments. I’m sure it could be better used in many other programs (refunding it to taxpayers comes out to maybe $55 for each of us, which probably isn’t worth the effort).

As pointed out in the movie “Dave,” shoving that kind of money in even a low-yield savings account would generate at least $180 million in interest each year.

That’s a lot of money, too, that could be used for something. Of course, no one in the government thinks that way. That’s why we all loved the movie.

The problem is that the phrase “no proof of significant clinical benefit” doesn’t mean something doesn’t work. It just means we aren’t sure. Some of those people on one of these drugs may be getting benefit – or not. After all, the placebo effect is remarkably strong. But if they are helping someone, who wants to be the one to tell them “we’re not going to pay for this anymore?”

Another issue is this: Let’s say the drugs only work for 10% of the people who take them ($1.8 billion worth), and for the other 90% it’s iffy ($16.2 billion worth), but the latter want to stay on them anyway, just to be sure. Do we cut them? Or just say that $18 billion is too much money when only 10% are being helped, and cut them all off? I’m sure we could use the money elsewhere (see “Dave” above), so let them find a way to work it out with the manufacturer. The greatest good for the greatest number and all that jazz.

I don’t know, either. Health care dollars are finite, and human suffering is infinite. It’s a balancing act that can’t be won. There are no easy answers.

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

What could you do with $18 billion?

I could pay off my mortgage roughly 60,000 times, or take my wife on a never-ending world cruise so we don’t need a mortgage, or at least hire someone to clean my pool regularly so I don’t have to.

A recent report from the OIG found that, in the last 3 years, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services spent $18 billion on drugs for which there’s no proof of significant clinical benefit.

That’s a lot of money on things that may or may not be placebos, some of which are WAY overdue on Food and Drug Administration–mandated efficacy studies. A few have even been on the market so long that they’ve become equally unproven generics.

Now, if you put this in the big picture, that immense amount of money is still only 2% of their total spending in health care. Hell, probably at least 2% of my personal spending is on pointless things, too. So, realistically, you could say 98% of CMS spending is on worthwhile care, which is as it should be.

But the bottom line is that $18 billion is still a lot of money if it’s being spent on fruitless treatments. I’m sure it could be better used in many other programs (refunding it to taxpayers comes out to maybe $55 for each of us, which probably isn’t worth the effort).

As pointed out in the movie “Dave,” shoving that kind of money in even a low-yield savings account would generate at least $180 million in interest each year.

That’s a lot of money, too, that could be used for something. Of course, no one in the government thinks that way. That’s why we all loved the movie.

The problem is that the phrase “no proof of significant clinical benefit” doesn’t mean something doesn’t work. It just means we aren’t sure. Some of those people on one of these drugs may be getting benefit – or not. After all, the placebo effect is remarkably strong. But if they are helping someone, who wants to be the one to tell them “we’re not going to pay for this anymore?”

Another issue is this: Let’s say the drugs only work for 10% of the people who take them ($1.8 billion worth), and for the other 90% it’s iffy ($16.2 billion worth), but the latter want to stay on them anyway, just to be sure. Do we cut them? Or just say that $18 billion is too much money when only 10% are being helped, and cut them all off? I’m sure we could use the money elsewhere (see “Dave” above), so let them find a way to work it out with the manufacturer. The greatest good for the greatest number and all that jazz.

I don’t know, either. Health care dollars are finite, and human suffering is infinite. It’s a balancing act that can’t be won. There are no easy answers.

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