Major Depressive Disorder

It wasn’t until I (Dr. Leistikow) finished my psychiatry residency that I realized the training I had received in women’s mental health was unusual. It was simply a required experience for PGY-3 residents at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

Rawpixel/Getty Images

All of us, regardless of interest, spent 1 afternoon a week over 6 months caring for patients in a specialty psychiatric clinic for women (run by Dr. Payne and Dr. Osborne). We discussed cases and received didactics on such topics as risk factors for postpartum depression; the risks of untreated mental illness in pregnancy, compared with the risks of various psychiatric medications; how to choose and dose medications for bipolar disorder as blood levels change across pregnancy; which resources to consult to determine the amounts and risks of various medications passed on in breast milk; and how to diagnose and treat premenstrual dysphoric disorder, to name a few lecture subjects.

By the time we were done, all residents had received more than 20 hours of teaching about how to treat mental illness in women across the reproductive life cycle. This was 20 hours more than is currently required by the American College of Graduate Medical Education, the accrediting body for all residencies, including psychiatry.¹ It is time for that to change.

Women’s need for psychiatric treatment that addresses reproductive transitions is not new; it is as old as time. Not only do women who previously needed psychiatric treatment continue to need treatment when they get pregnant or are breastfeeding, but it is now well recognized that times of reproductive transition or flux – whether premenstrual, post partum, or perimenopausal – confer increased risk for both new-onset and exacerbations of prior mental illnesses.

What has changed is psychiatry’s ability to finally meet that need. Previously, despite the fact that women make up the majority of patients presenting for treatment, that nearly all women will menstruate and go through menopause, and that more than 80% of American women will have at least one pregnancy during their lifetime,psychiatrists practice as if these reproductive transitions were unfortunate blips getting in the doctor’s way.² We mostly threw up our hands when our patients became pregnant, reflexively stopped all medications, and expected women to suffer for the sake of their babies.

Over the last 20-30 years, however, a grassroots movement has established what is now an international reproductive psychiatry community with a large and growing research base, with both agreed-upon best practices and evolving standards of care informed by and responsive to the scientific literature. We now know that untreated maternal psychiatric illness carries its own risks for infants both before and after delivery; that many maternal pharmacologic treatments are lower risk for infants than previously thought; that protecting and treating women’s mental health in pregnancy has benefits for women, their babies, and the families that depend on them; and that there is now a growing evidence base informing both new and older treatments and enabling women and their doctors to make complex decisions balancing risk and benefit across the life cycle.

Many psychiatrists-in-training are hungry for this knowledge. At last count, in the United States alone, there were 16 women’s mental health fellowships available, up from just 3 in 2008.³ The problem is that none of them are accredited or funded by the ACGME, because reproductive psychiatry (here used interchangeably with the term women’s mental health) has not been officially recognized as a subspecialty. This means that current funding frequently rests on philanthropy, which often cannot be sustained, and clinical billing, which gives fellows in some programs such heavy clinical responsibilities that little time is left for scholarly work. Lack of subspecialty status also blocks numerous important downstream effects that would flow from this recognition.

Reproductive psychiatry clearly already meets criteria laid out by the American Board of Medical Specialties for defining a subspecialty field. As argued elsewhere, it has a distinct patient population with definable care needs and a standalone body of scientific medical knowledge as well as a national (and international) community of experts that has already done much to improve women’s access to care they desperately need.⁴ It also meets the ACGME’s criteria for a new subspecialty except for approval by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology.⁵ Finally, it also meets the requirements of the ABPN except for having 25 fellowship programs with 50 fellowship positions and 50 trainees per year completing fellowships, a challenging Catch-22 without the necessary funding that would accrue from accreditation.⁶

Despite growing awareness and demand, there remains a shortage of psychiatrists trained to treat women during times of reproductive transition and to pass their recommendations and knowledge on to their primary care and ob.gyn. colleagues. What official recognition would bring, in addition to funding for fellowships post residency, is a guaranteed seat at the table in psychiatry residencies, in terms of a required number of hours devoted to these topics for trainees, ensuring that all graduating psychiatrists have at least some exposure to the knowledge and practices so material to their patients.

It isn’t enough to wait for residencies to see the writing on the wall and voluntarily carve out a slice of pie devoted to women’s mental health from the limited time and resources available to train residents. A 2017 survey of psychiatry residency program training directors found that 23%, or almost a quarter of programs that responded, offered no reproductive psychiatry training at all, that 49% required 5 hours or less across all 4 years of training, and that 75% of programs had no required clinical exposure to reproductive psychiatry patients.⁷ Despite the fact that 87% of training directors surveyed agreed either that reproductive psychiatry was “an important area of education” or a subject general residents should be competent in, ACGME-recognized specialties take precedence.

A system so patchy and insufficient won’t do. It’s not good enough for the trainees who frequently have to look outside of their own institutions for the training they know they need. It’s not good enough for the pregnant or postpartum patient looking for evidence-based advice, who is currently left on her own to determine, prior to booking an appointment, whether a specific psychiatrist has received any training relevant to treating her. Adding reproductive psychiatry to the topics a graduating psychiatrist must have some proficiency in also signals to recent graduates and experienced attendings, as well as the relevant examining boards and producers of continuing medical education content, that women’s mental health is no longer a fringe topic but rather foundational to all practicing psychiatrists.

The oil needed to prime this pump is official recognition of the subspecialty that reproductive psychiatry already is. The women’s mental health community is ready. The research base is well established and growing exponentially. The number of women’s mental health fellowships is healthy and would increase significantly with ACGME funding. Psychiatry residency training programs can turn to recent graduates of these fellowships as well as their own faculty with reproductive psychiatry experience to teach trainees. In addition, the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry, over the last 4 years, has created a repository of free online modules dedicated to facilitating this type of training, with case discussions across numerous topics for use by both educators and trainees. The American Psychiatric Association recently formed the Committee on Women’s Mental Health in 2020 and will be publishing a textbook based on work done by the NCRP within the coming year.

Imagine the changed world that would open to all psychiatrists if reproductive psychiatry were given the credentials it deserves. When writing prescriptions, we would view pregnancy as the potential outcome it is in any woman of reproductive age, given that 50% of pregnancies are unplanned, and let women know ahead of time how to think about possible fetal effects rather than waiting for their panicked phone messages or hearing that they have stopped their medications abruptly. We would work to identify our patient’s individual risk factors for postpartum depression predelivery to reduce that risk and prevent or limit illness. We would plan ahead for close follow-up post partum during the window of greatest risk, rather than expecting women to drop out of care while taking care of their infants or languish on scheduling waiting lists. We would feel confident in giving evidence-based advice to our patients around times of reproductive transition across the life cycle, but especially in pregnancy and lactation, empowering women to make healthy decisions for themselves and their families, no longer abandoning them just when they need us most.

 

References

1. ACGME Program Requirements for Graduate Medical Education in Psychiatry. Accreditation Counsel for Graduate Medical Education. 2020 Jul 1.

2. Livingston G. “They’re waiting longer, but U.S. women today more likely to have children than a decade ago.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project. pewsocialtrends.org. 2018 Jan 18.

3. Nagle-Yang S et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):202-6.

4. Payne JL. Int Rev Psychiatry. 2019 May;31(3):207-9.

5. Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education Policies and Procedures. 2020 Sep 26.

6. American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. Requirements for Subspecialty Recognition, Attachment A. 2008.

7. Osborne LM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):197-201.
 

Dr. Leistikow is a reproductive psychiatrist and clinical assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, where she sees patients and helps train residents and fellows. She is on the education committee of the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry (NCRPtraining.org) and has written about women’s mental health for textbooks, scientific journals and on her private practice blog at www.womenspsychiatrybaltimore.com. Dr. Leistikow has no conflicts of interest.

Dr. Payne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and director of the Women’s Mood Disorders Center at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. In addition to providing outstanding clinical care for women with mood disorders, she conducts research into the genetic, biological, and environmental factors involved in postpartum depression. She and her colleagues have recently identified two epigenetic biomarkers of postpartum depression and are working hard to replicate this work with National Institutes of Health funding. Most recently, she was appointed to the American Psychiatric Association’s committee on women’s mental health and is serving as president-elect for both the Marcé of North America and the International Marcé Perinatal Mental Health Societies. She disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Sage Therapeutics and Janssen Pharmaceuticals.
 

Dr. Osborne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and of gynecology and obstetrics at Johns Hopkins University, where she directs a postdoctoral fellowship program in reproductive psychiatry. She is an expert on the diagnosis and treatment of mood and anxiety disorders during pregnancy, the post partum, the premenstrual period, and perimenopause. Her work is supported by the Brain and Behavior Foundation, the Doris Duke Foundation, the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology, and the National Institute of Mental Health. She has no conflicts of interest.

It wasn’t until I (Dr. Leistikow) finished my psychiatry residency that I realized the training I had received in women’s mental health was unusual. It was simply a required experience for PGY-3 residents at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

Rawpixel/Getty Images

All of us, regardless of interest, spent 1 afternoon a week over 6 months caring for patients in a specialty psychiatric clinic for women (run by Dr. Payne and Dr. Osborne). We discussed cases and received didactics on such topics as risk factors for postpartum depression; the risks of untreated mental illness in pregnancy, compared with the risks of various psychiatric medications; how to choose and dose medications for bipolar disorder as blood levels change across pregnancy; which resources to consult to determine the amounts and risks of various medications passed on in breast milk; and how to diagnose and treat premenstrual dysphoric disorder, to name a few lecture subjects.

By the time we were done, all residents had received more than 20 hours of teaching about how to treat mental illness in women across the reproductive life cycle. This was 20 hours more than is currently required by the American College of Graduate Medical Education, the accrediting body for all residencies, including psychiatry.¹ It is time for that to change.

Women’s need for psychiatric treatment that addresses reproductive transitions is not new; it is as old as time. Not only do women who previously needed psychiatric treatment continue to need treatment when they get pregnant or are breastfeeding, but it is now well recognized that times of reproductive transition or flux – whether premenstrual, post partum, or perimenopausal – confer increased risk for both new-onset and exacerbations of prior mental illnesses.

What has changed is psychiatry’s ability to finally meet that need. Previously, despite the fact that women make up the majority of patients presenting for treatment, that nearly all women will menstruate and go through menopause, and that more than 80% of American women will have at least one pregnancy during their lifetime,psychiatrists practice as if these reproductive transitions were unfortunate blips getting in the doctor’s way.² We mostly threw up our hands when our patients became pregnant, reflexively stopped all medications, and expected women to suffer for the sake of their babies.

Over the last 20-30 years, however, a grassroots movement has established what is now an international reproductive psychiatry community with a large and growing research base, with both agreed-upon best practices and evolving standards of care informed by and responsive to the scientific literature. We now know that untreated maternal psychiatric illness carries its own risks for infants both before and after delivery; that many maternal pharmacologic treatments are lower risk for infants than previously thought; that protecting and treating women’s mental health in pregnancy has benefits for women, their babies, and the families that depend on them; and that there is now a growing evidence base informing both new and older treatments and enabling women and their doctors to make complex decisions balancing risk and benefit across the life cycle.

Many psychiatrists-in-training are hungry for this knowledge. At last count, in the United States alone, there were 16 women’s mental health fellowships available, up from just 3 in 2008.³ The problem is that none of them are accredited or funded by the ACGME, because reproductive psychiatry (here used interchangeably with the term women’s mental health) has not been officially recognized as a subspecialty. This means that current funding frequently rests on philanthropy, which often cannot be sustained, and clinical billing, which gives fellows in some programs such heavy clinical responsibilities that little time is left for scholarly work. Lack of subspecialty status also blocks numerous important downstream effects that would flow from this recognition.

Reproductive psychiatry clearly already meets criteria laid out by the American Board of Medical Specialties for defining a subspecialty field. As argued elsewhere, it has a distinct patient population with definable care needs and a standalone body of scientific medical knowledge as well as a national (and international) community of experts that has already done much to improve women’s access to care they desperately need.⁴ It also meets the ACGME’s criteria for a new subspecialty except for approval by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology.⁵ Finally, it also meets the requirements of the ABPN except for having 25 fellowship programs with 50 fellowship positions and 50 trainees per year completing fellowships, a challenging Catch-22 without the necessary funding that would accrue from accreditation.⁶

Despite growing awareness and demand, there remains a shortage of psychiatrists trained to treat women during times of reproductive transition and to pass their recommendations and knowledge on to their primary care and ob.gyn. colleagues. What official recognition would bring, in addition to funding for fellowships post residency, is a guaranteed seat at the table in psychiatry residencies, in terms of a required number of hours devoted to these topics for trainees, ensuring that all graduating psychiatrists have at least some exposure to the knowledge and practices so material to their patients.

It isn’t enough to wait for residencies to see the writing on the wall and voluntarily carve out a slice of pie devoted to women’s mental health from the limited time and resources available to train residents. A 2017 survey of psychiatry residency program training directors found that 23%, or almost a quarter of programs that responded, offered no reproductive psychiatry training at all, that 49% required 5 hours or less across all 4 years of training, and that 75% of programs had no required clinical exposure to reproductive psychiatry patients.⁷ Despite the fact that 87% of training directors surveyed agreed either that reproductive psychiatry was “an important area of education” or a subject general residents should be competent in, ACGME-recognized specialties take precedence.

A system so patchy and insufficient won’t do. It’s not good enough for the trainees who frequently have to look outside of their own institutions for the training they know they need. It’s not good enough for the pregnant or postpartum patient looking for evidence-based advice, who is currently left on her own to determine, prior to booking an appointment, whether a specific psychiatrist has received any training relevant to treating her. Adding reproductive psychiatry to the topics a graduating psychiatrist must have some proficiency in also signals to recent graduates and experienced attendings, as well as the relevant examining boards and producers of continuing medical education content, that women’s mental health is no longer a fringe topic but rather foundational to all practicing psychiatrists.

The oil needed to prime this pump is official recognition of the subspecialty that reproductive psychiatry already is. The women’s mental health community is ready. The research base is well established and growing exponentially. The number of women’s mental health fellowships is healthy and would increase significantly with ACGME funding. Psychiatry residency training programs can turn to recent graduates of these fellowships as well as their own faculty with reproductive psychiatry experience to teach trainees. In addition, the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry, over the last 4 years, has created a repository of free online modules dedicated to facilitating this type of training, with case discussions across numerous topics for use by both educators and trainees. The American Psychiatric Association recently formed the Committee on Women’s Mental Health in 2020 and will be publishing a textbook based on work done by the NCRP within the coming year.

Imagine the changed world that would open to all psychiatrists if reproductive psychiatry were given the credentials it deserves. When writing prescriptions, we would view pregnancy as the potential outcome it is in any woman of reproductive age, given that 50% of pregnancies are unplanned, and let women know ahead of time how to think about possible fetal effects rather than waiting for their panicked phone messages or hearing that they have stopped their medications abruptly. We would work to identify our patient’s individual risk factors for postpartum depression predelivery to reduce that risk and prevent or limit illness. We would plan ahead for close follow-up post partum during the window of greatest risk, rather than expecting women to drop out of care while taking care of their infants or languish on scheduling waiting lists. We would feel confident in giving evidence-based advice to our patients around times of reproductive transition across the life cycle, but especially in pregnancy and lactation, empowering women to make healthy decisions for themselves and their families, no longer abandoning them just when they need us most.

 

References

1. ACGME Program Requirements for Graduate Medical Education in Psychiatry. Accreditation Counsel for Graduate Medical Education. 2020 Jul 1.

2. Livingston G. “They’re waiting longer, but U.S. women today more likely to have children than a decade ago.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project. pewsocialtrends.org. 2018 Jan 18.

3. Nagle-Yang S et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):202-6.

4. Payne JL. Int Rev Psychiatry. 2019 May;31(3):207-9.

5. Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education Policies and Procedures. 2020 Sep 26.

6. American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. Requirements for Subspecialty Recognition, Attachment A. 2008.

7. Osborne LM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):197-201.
 

Dr. Leistikow is a reproductive psychiatrist and clinical assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, where she sees patients and helps train residents and fellows. She is on the education committee of the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry (NCRPtraining.org) and has written about women’s mental health for textbooks, scientific journals and on her private practice blog at www.womenspsychiatrybaltimore.com. Dr. Leistikow has no conflicts of interest.

Dr. Payne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and director of the Women’s Mood Disorders Center at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. In addition to providing outstanding clinical care for women with mood disorders, she conducts research into the genetic, biological, and environmental factors involved in postpartum depression. She and her colleagues have recently identified two epigenetic biomarkers of postpartum depression and are working hard to replicate this work with National Institutes of Health funding. Most recently, she was appointed to the American Psychiatric Association’s committee on women’s mental health and is serving as president-elect for both the Marcé of North America and the International Marcé Perinatal Mental Health Societies. She disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Sage Therapeutics and Janssen Pharmaceuticals.
 

Dr. Osborne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and of gynecology and obstetrics at Johns Hopkins University, where she directs a postdoctoral fellowship program in reproductive psychiatry. She is an expert on the diagnosis and treatment of mood and anxiety disorders during pregnancy, the post partum, the premenstrual period, and perimenopause. Her work is supported by the Brain and Behavior Foundation, the Doris Duke Foundation, the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology, and the National Institute of Mental Health. She has no conflicts of interest.

It wasn’t until I (Dr. Leistikow) finished my psychiatry residency that I realized the training I had received in women’s mental health was unusual. It was simply a required experience for PGY-3 residents at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

Rawpixel/Getty Images

All of us, regardless of interest, spent 1 afternoon a week over 6 months caring for patients in a specialty psychiatric clinic for women (run by Dr. Payne and Dr. Osborne). We discussed cases and received didactics on such topics as risk factors for postpartum depression; the risks of untreated mental illness in pregnancy, compared with the risks of various psychiatric medications; how to choose and dose medications for bipolar disorder as blood levels change across pregnancy; which resources to consult to determine the amounts and risks of various medications passed on in breast milk; and how to diagnose and treat premenstrual dysphoric disorder, to name a few lecture subjects.

By the time we were done, all residents had received more than 20 hours of teaching about how to treat mental illness in women across the reproductive life cycle. This was 20 hours more than is currently required by the American College of Graduate Medical Education, the accrediting body for all residencies, including psychiatry.¹ It is time for that to change.

Women’s need for psychiatric treatment that addresses reproductive transitions is not new; it is as old as time. Not only do women who previously needed psychiatric treatment continue to need treatment when they get pregnant or are breastfeeding, but it is now well recognized that times of reproductive transition or flux – whether premenstrual, post partum, or perimenopausal – confer increased risk for both new-onset and exacerbations of prior mental illnesses.

What has changed is psychiatry’s ability to finally meet that need. Previously, despite the fact that women make up the majority of patients presenting for treatment, that nearly all women will menstruate and go through menopause, and that more than 80% of American women will have at least one pregnancy during their lifetime,psychiatrists practice as if these reproductive transitions were unfortunate blips getting in the doctor’s way.² We mostly threw up our hands when our patients became pregnant, reflexively stopped all medications, and expected women to suffer for the sake of their babies.

Over the last 20-30 years, however, a grassroots movement has established what is now an international reproductive psychiatry community with a large and growing research base, with both agreed-upon best practices and evolving standards of care informed by and responsive to the scientific literature. We now know that untreated maternal psychiatric illness carries its own risks for infants both before and after delivery; that many maternal pharmacologic treatments are lower risk for infants than previously thought; that protecting and treating women’s mental health in pregnancy has benefits for women, their babies, and the families that depend on them; and that there is now a growing evidence base informing both new and older treatments and enabling women and their doctors to make complex decisions balancing risk and benefit across the life cycle.

Many psychiatrists-in-training are hungry for this knowledge. At last count, in the United States alone, there were 16 women’s mental health fellowships available, up from just 3 in 2008.³ The problem is that none of them are accredited or funded by the ACGME, because reproductive psychiatry (here used interchangeably with the term women’s mental health) has not been officially recognized as a subspecialty. This means that current funding frequently rests on philanthropy, which often cannot be sustained, and clinical billing, which gives fellows in some programs such heavy clinical responsibilities that little time is left for scholarly work. Lack of subspecialty status also blocks numerous important downstream effects that would flow from this recognition.

Reproductive psychiatry clearly already meets criteria laid out by the American Board of Medical Specialties for defining a subspecialty field. As argued elsewhere, it has a distinct patient population with definable care needs and a standalone body of scientific medical knowledge as well as a national (and international) community of experts that has already done much to improve women’s access to care they desperately need.⁴ It also meets the ACGME’s criteria for a new subspecialty except for approval by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology.⁵ Finally, it also meets the requirements of the ABPN except for having 25 fellowship programs with 50 fellowship positions and 50 trainees per year completing fellowships, a challenging Catch-22 without the necessary funding that would accrue from accreditation.⁶

Despite growing awareness and demand, there remains a shortage of psychiatrists trained to treat women during times of reproductive transition and to pass their recommendations and knowledge on to their primary care and ob.gyn. colleagues. What official recognition would bring, in addition to funding for fellowships post residency, is a guaranteed seat at the table in psychiatry residencies, in terms of a required number of hours devoted to these topics for trainees, ensuring that all graduating psychiatrists have at least some exposure to the knowledge and practices so material to their patients.

It isn’t enough to wait for residencies to see the writing on the wall and voluntarily carve out a slice of pie devoted to women’s mental health from the limited time and resources available to train residents. A 2017 survey of psychiatry residency program training directors found that 23%, or almost a quarter of programs that responded, offered no reproductive psychiatry training at all, that 49% required 5 hours or less across all 4 years of training, and that 75% of programs had no required clinical exposure to reproductive psychiatry patients.⁷ Despite the fact that 87% of training directors surveyed agreed either that reproductive psychiatry was “an important area of education” or a subject general residents should be competent in, ACGME-recognized specialties take precedence.

A system so patchy and insufficient won’t do. It’s not good enough for the trainees who frequently have to look outside of their own institutions for the training they know they need. It’s not good enough for the pregnant or postpartum patient looking for evidence-based advice, who is currently left on her own to determine, prior to booking an appointment, whether a specific psychiatrist has received any training relevant to treating her. Adding reproductive psychiatry to the topics a graduating psychiatrist must have some proficiency in also signals to recent graduates and experienced attendings, as well as the relevant examining boards and producers of continuing medical education content, that women’s mental health is no longer a fringe topic but rather foundational to all practicing psychiatrists.

The oil needed to prime this pump is official recognition of the subspecialty that reproductive psychiatry already is. The women’s mental health community is ready. The research base is well established and growing exponentially. The number of women’s mental health fellowships is healthy and would increase significantly with ACGME funding. Psychiatry residency training programs can turn to recent graduates of these fellowships as well as their own faculty with reproductive psychiatry experience to teach trainees. In addition, the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry, over the last 4 years, has created a repository of free online modules dedicated to facilitating this type of training, with case discussions across numerous topics for use by both educators and trainees. The American Psychiatric Association recently formed the Committee on Women’s Mental Health in 2020 and will be publishing a textbook based on work done by the NCRP within the coming year.

Imagine the changed world that would open to all psychiatrists if reproductive psychiatry were given the credentials it deserves. When writing prescriptions, we would view pregnancy as the potential outcome it is in any woman of reproductive age, given that 50% of pregnancies are unplanned, and let women know ahead of time how to think about possible fetal effects rather than waiting for their panicked phone messages or hearing that they have stopped their medications abruptly. We would work to identify our patient’s individual risk factors for postpartum depression predelivery to reduce that risk and prevent or limit illness. We would plan ahead for close follow-up post partum during the window of greatest risk, rather than expecting women to drop out of care while taking care of their infants or languish on scheduling waiting lists. We would feel confident in giving evidence-based advice to our patients around times of reproductive transition across the life cycle, but especially in pregnancy and lactation, empowering women to make healthy decisions for themselves and their families, no longer abandoning them just when they need us most.

 

References

1. ACGME Program Requirements for Graduate Medical Education in Psychiatry. Accreditation Counsel for Graduate Medical Education. 2020 Jul 1.

2. Livingston G. “They’re waiting longer, but U.S. women today more likely to have children than a decade ago.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project. pewsocialtrends.org. 2018 Jan 18.

3. Nagle-Yang S et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):202-6.

4. Payne JL. Int Rev Psychiatry. 2019 May;31(3):207-9.

5. Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education Policies and Procedures. 2020 Sep 26.

6. American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. Requirements for Subspecialty Recognition, Attachment A. 2008.

7. Osborne LM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2018 Apr;42(2):197-201.
 

Dr. Leistikow is a reproductive psychiatrist and clinical assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the University of Maryland, Baltimore, where she sees patients and helps train residents and fellows. She is on the education committee of the National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry (NCRPtraining.org) and has written about women’s mental health for textbooks, scientific journals and on her private practice blog at www.womenspsychiatrybaltimore.com. Dr. Leistikow has no conflicts of interest.

Dr. Payne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and director of the Women’s Mood Disorders Center at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore. In addition to providing outstanding clinical care for women with mood disorders, she conducts research into the genetic, biological, and environmental factors involved in postpartum depression. She and her colleagues have recently identified two epigenetic biomarkers of postpartum depression and are working hard to replicate this work with National Institutes of Health funding. Most recently, she was appointed to the American Psychiatric Association’s committee on women’s mental health and is serving as president-elect for both the Marcé of North America and the International Marcé Perinatal Mental Health Societies. She disclosed the following relevant financial relationships: serve(d) as a director, officer, partner, employee, adviser, consultant, or trustee for Sage Therapeutics and Janssen Pharmaceuticals.
 

Dr. Osborne is associate professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences and of gynecology and obstetrics at Johns Hopkins University, where she directs a postdoctoral fellowship program in reproductive psychiatry. She is an expert on the diagnosis and treatment of mood and anxiety disorders during pregnancy, the post partum, the premenstrual period, and perimenopause. Her work is supported by the Brain and Behavior Foundation, the Doris Duke Foundation, the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology, and the National Institute of Mental Health. She has no conflicts of interest.

A history of suicidal behaviors or ideation, functional impairment related to mental health disorders, and socioeconomic disadvantage are the three most important risk factors predicting subsequent suicide attempts, new research suggests.

Investigators applied a machine-learning model to data on over 34,500 adults drawn from a large national survey database. After analyzing more than 2,500 survey questions, key areas were identified that yielded the most accurate predictions of who might be at risk for later suicide attempt.

‘Rich’ dataset

Previous research using machine learning approaches to study nonfatal suicide attempt prediction has focused on high-risk patients in clinical treatment. However, more than one-third of individuals making nonfatal suicide attempts do not receive mental health treatment, Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

To gain further insight into predictors of suicide risk in nonclinical populations, the researchers turned to the National Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions (NESARC), a longitudinal survey of noninstitutionalized U.S. adults.

“We wanted to extend our understanding of suicide attempt risk factors beyond high-risk clinical populations to the general adult population; and the richness of the NESARC dataset provides a unique opportunity to do so,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza said.

The NESARC surveys were conducted in two waves: Wave 1 (2001-2002) and wave 2 (2004-2005), in which participants self-reported nonfatal suicide attempts in the preceding 3 years since wave 1.

Assessment of wave 1 participants was based on the Alcohol Use Disorder and Associated Disabilities Interview Schedule DSM-IV.

“This survey’s extensive assessment instrument contained a detailed evaluation of substance use, psychiatric disorders, and symptoms not routinely available in electronic health records,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

The wave 1 survey contained 2,805 separate questions. From participants’ responses, the investigators derived 180 variables for three categories: past-year, prior-to-past-year, and lifetime mental disorders.

They then identified 2,978 factors associated with suicide attempts and used a statistical method called balanced random forest to classify suicide attempts at wave 2. Each variable was accorded an “importance score” using identified wave 1 features.

The outcome variable of attempted suicide at any point during the 3 years prior to the wave 2 interview was defined by combining responses to three wave 2 questions:

• In your entire life, did you ever attempt suicide?
• If yes, how old were you the first time?
• If the most recent event occurred within the last 3 years, how old were you during the most recent time?

Suicide risk severity was classified into four groups (low, medium, high, and very high) on the basis of the top-performing risk factors.

A statistical model combining survey design and nonresponse weights enabled estimates to be representative of the U.S. population, based on the 2000 census.

Out-of-fold model prediction assessed performance of the model, using area under receiver operator curve (AUC), sensitivity, and specificity.
 

Daily functioning

Of all participants, 70.2% (n = 34,653; almost 60% women) completed wave 2 interviews. The weighted mean ages at waves 1 and 2 were 45.1 and 48.2 years, respectively.

Of wave 2 respondents, 0.6% (n = 222) attempted suicide during the preceding 3 years.

Half of those who attempted suicide within the first year were classified as “very high risk,” while 33.2% of those who attempted suicide between the first and second year and 33.3% of those who attempted suicide between the second and third year were classified as “very high risk.”

Among participants who attempted suicide between the third year and follow-up, 16.48% were classified as “very high risk.”

The model accurately captured classification of participants, even across demographic characteristics, such as age, sex, race, and income.

Younger individuals (aged 18-36 years) were at higher risk, compared with older individuals. In addition, women were at higher risk than were men, White participants were at higher risk than were non-White participants, and individuals with lower income were at greater risk than were those with higher income.

The model found that 1.8% of the U.S. population had a 10% or greater risk of a suicide attempt.

The most important risk factors identified were the three questions about previous suicidal ideation or behavior; three items from the 12-Item Short Form Health Survey (feeling downhearted, doing activities less carefully, or accomplishing less because of emotional problems); younger age; lower educational achievement; and recent financial crisis.

“The clinical assessment of suicide risk typically focuses on acute suicidal symptoms, together with depression, anxiety, substance misuse, and recent stressful events,” coinvestigator Mark Olfson, MD, PhD, professor of epidemiology, Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“The new findings suggest that these assessments should also consider emotional problems that interfere with daily functioning,” Dr. Olfson said.
 

Extra vigilance

Commenting on the study in an interview, April C. Foreman, PhD, an executive board member of the American Association of Suicidology, noted that some of the findings were not surprising.

“When discharging a patient from inpatient care, or seeing them in primary care, bring up mental health concerns proactively and ask whether they have ever attempted suicide or harmed themselves – even a long time ago – just as you ask about a family history of heart disease or cancer, or other health issues,” said Dr. Foreman, chief medical officer of the Kevin and Margaret Hines Foundation.

She noted that half of people who die by suicide have a primary care visit within the preceding month.

“Primary care is a great place to get a suicide history and follow the patient with extra vigilance, just as you would with any other risk factors,” Dr. Foreman said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism and its Intramural Program. The study authors and Dr. Foreman have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

A history of suicidal behaviors or ideation, functional impairment related to mental health disorders, and socioeconomic disadvantage are the three most important risk factors predicting subsequent suicide attempts, new research suggests.

Investigators applied a machine-learning model to data on over 34,500 adults drawn from a large national survey database. After analyzing more than 2,500 survey questions, key areas were identified that yielded the most accurate predictions of who might be at risk for later suicide attempt.

‘Rich’ dataset

Previous research using machine learning approaches to study nonfatal suicide attempt prediction has focused on high-risk patients in clinical treatment. However, more than one-third of individuals making nonfatal suicide attempts do not receive mental health treatment, Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

To gain further insight into predictors of suicide risk in nonclinical populations, the researchers turned to the National Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions (NESARC), a longitudinal survey of noninstitutionalized U.S. adults.

“We wanted to extend our understanding of suicide attempt risk factors beyond high-risk clinical populations to the general adult population; and the richness of the NESARC dataset provides a unique opportunity to do so,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza said.

The NESARC surveys were conducted in two waves: Wave 1 (2001-2002) and wave 2 (2004-2005), in which participants self-reported nonfatal suicide attempts in the preceding 3 years since wave 1.

Assessment of wave 1 participants was based on the Alcohol Use Disorder and Associated Disabilities Interview Schedule DSM-IV.

“This survey’s extensive assessment instrument contained a detailed evaluation of substance use, psychiatric disorders, and symptoms not routinely available in electronic health records,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

The wave 1 survey contained 2,805 separate questions. From participants’ responses, the investigators derived 180 variables for three categories: past-year, prior-to-past-year, and lifetime mental disorders.

They then identified 2,978 factors associated with suicide attempts and used a statistical method called balanced random forest to classify suicide attempts at wave 2. Each variable was accorded an “importance score” using identified wave 1 features.

The outcome variable of attempted suicide at any point during the 3 years prior to the wave 2 interview was defined by combining responses to three wave 2 questions:

• In your entire life, did you ever attempt suicide?
• If yes, how old were you the first time?
• If the most recent event occurred within the last 3 years, how old were you during the most recent time?

Suicide risk severity was classified into four groups (low, medium, high, and very high) on the basis of the top-performing risk factors.

A statistical model combining survey design and nonresponse weights enabled estimates to be representative of the U.S. population, based on the 2000 census.

Out-of-fold model prediction assessed performance of the model, using area under receiver operator curve (AUC), sensitivity, and specificity.
 

Daily functioning

Of all participants, 70.2% (n = 34,653; almost 60% women) completed wave 2 interviews. The weighted mean ages at waves 1 and 2 were 45.1 and 48.2 years, respectively.

Of wave 2 respondents, 0.6% (n = 222) attempted suicide during the preceding 3 years.

Half of those who attempted suicide within the first year were classified as “very high risk,” while 33.2% of those who attempted suicide between the first and second year and 33.3% of those who attempted suicide between the second and third year were classified as “very high risk.”

Among participants who attempted suicide between the third year and follow-up, 16.48% were classified as “very high risk.”

The model accurately captured classification of participants, even across demographic characteristics, such as age, sex, race, and income.

Younger individuals (aged 18-36 years) were at higher risk, compared with older individuals. In addition, women were at higher risk than were men, White participants were at higher risk than were non-White participants, and individuals with lower income were at greater risk than were those with higher income.

The model found that 1.8% of the U.S. population had a 10% or greater risk of a suicide attempt.

The most important risk factors identified were the three questions about previous suicidal ideation or behavior; three items from the 12-Item Short Form Health Survey (feeling downhearted, doing activities less carefully, or accomplishing less because of emotional problems); younger age; lower educational achievement; and recent financial crisis.

“The clinical assessment of suicide risk typically focuses on acute suicidal symptoms, together with depression, anxiety, substance misuse, and recent stressful events,” coinvestigator Mark Olfson, MD, PhD, professor of epidemiology, Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“The new findings suggest that these assessments should also consider emotional problems that interfere with daily functioning,” Dr. Olfson said.
 

Extra vigilance

Commenting on the study in an interview, April C. Foreman, PhD, an executive board member of the American Association of Suicidology, noted that some of the findings were not surprising.

“When discharging a patient from inpatient care, or seeing them in primary care, bring up mental health concerns proactively and ask whether they have ever attempted suicide or harmed themselves – even a long time ago – just as you ask about a family history of heart disease or cancer, or other health issues,” said Dr. Foreman, chief medical officer of the Kevin and Margaret Hines Foundation.

She noted that half of people who die by suicide have a primary care visit within the preceding month.

“Primary care is a great place to get a suicide history and follow the patient with extra vigilance, just as you would with any other risk factors,” Dr. Foreman said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism and its Intramural Program. The study authors and Dr. Foreman have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

A history of suicidal behaviors or ideation, functional impairment related to mental health disorders, and socioeconomic disadvantage are the three most important risk factors predicting subsequent suicide attempts, new research suggests.

Investigators applied a machine-learning model to data on over 34,500 adults drawn from a large national survey database. After analyzing more than 2,500 survey questions, key areas were identified that yielded the most accurate predictions of who might be at risk for later suicide attempt.

‘Rich’ dataset

Previous research using machine learning approaches to study nonfatal suicide attempt prediction has focused on high-risk patients in clinical treatment. However, more than one-third of individuals making nonfatal suicide attempts do not receive mental health treatment, Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

To gain further insight into predictors of suicide risk in nonclinical populations, the researchers turned to the National Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions (NESARC), a longitudinal survey of noninstitutionalized U.S. adults.

“We wanted to extend our understanding of suicide attempt risk factors beyond high-risk clinical populations to the general adult population; and the richness of the NESARC dataset provides a unique opportunity to do so,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza said.

The NESARC surveys were conducted in two waves: Wave 1 (2001-2002) and wave 2 (2004-2005), in which participants self-reported nonfatal suicide attempts in the preceding 3 years since wave 1.

Assessment of wave 1 participants was based on the Alcohol Use Disorder and Associated Disabilities Interview Schedule DSM-IV.

“This survey’s extensive assessment instrument contained a detailed evaluation of substance use, psychiatric disorders, and symptoms not routinely available in electronic health records,” Mr. Garcia de la Garza noted.

The wave 1 survey contained 2,805 separate questions. From participants’ responses, the investigators derived 180 variables for three categories: past-year, prior-to-past-year, and lifetime mental disorders.

They then identified 2,978 factors associated with suicide attempts and used a statistical method called balanced random forest to classify suicide attempts at wave 2. Each variable was accorded an “importance score” using identified wave 1 features.

The outcome variable of attempted suicide at any point during the 3 years prior to the wave 2 interview was defined by combining responses to three wave 2 questions:

• In your entire life, did you ever attempt suicide?
• If yes, how old were you the first time?
• If the most recent event occurred within the last 3 years, how old were you during the most recent time?

Suicide risk severity was classified into four groups (low, medium, high, and very high) on the basis of the top-performing risk factors.

A statistical model combining survey design and nonresponse weights enabled estimates to be representative of the U.S. population, based on the 2000 census.

Out-of-fold model prediction assessed performance of the model, using area under receiver operator curve (AUC), sensitivity, and specificity.
 

Daily functioning

Of all participants, 70.2% (n = 34,653; almost 60% women) completed wave 2 interviews. The weighted mean ages at waves 1 and 2 were 45.1 and 48.2 years, respectively.

Of wave 2 respondents, 0.6% (n = 222) attempted suicide during the preceding 3 years.

Half of those who attempted suicide within the first year were classified as “very high risk,” while 33.2% of those who attempted suicide between the first and second year and 33.3% of those who attempted suicide between the second and third year were classified as “very high risk.”

Among participants who attempted suicide between the third year and follow-up, 16.48% were classified as “very high risk.”

The model accurately captured classification of participants, even across demographic characteristics, such as age, sex, race, and income.

Younger individuals (aged 18-36 years) were at higher risk, compared with older individuals. In addition, women were at higher risk than were men, White participants were at higher risk than were non-White participants, and individuals with lower income were at greater risk than were those with higher income.

The model found that 1.8% of the U.S. population had a 10% or greater risk of a suicide attempt.

The most important risk factors identified were the three questions about previous suicidal ideation or behavior; three items from the 12-Item Short Form Health Survey (feeling downhearted, doing activities less carefully, or accomplishing less because of emotional problems); younger age; lower educational achievement; and recent financial crisis.

“The clinical assessment of suicide risk typically focuses on acute suicidal symptoms, together with depression, anxiety, substance misuse, and recent stressful events,” coinvestigator Mark Olfson, MD, PhD, professor of epidemiology, Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“The new findings suggest that these assessments should also consider emotional problems that interfere with daily functioning,” Dr. Olfson said.
 

Extra vigilance

Commenting on the study in an interview, April C. Foreman, PhD, an executive board member of the American Association of Suicidology, noted that some of the findings were not surprising.

“When discharging a patient from inpatient care, or seeing them in primary care, bring up mental health concerns proactively and ask whether they have ever attempted suicide or harmed themselves – even a long time ago – just as you ask about a family history of heart disease or cancer, or other health issues,” said Dr. Foreman, chief medical officer of the Kevin and Margaret Hines Foundation.

She noted that half of people who die by suicide have a primary care visit within the preceding month.

“Primary care is a great place to get a suicide history and follow the patient with extra vigilance, just as you would with any other risk factors,” Dr. Foreman said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism and its Intramural Program. The study authors and Dr. Foreman have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Mia McDermott is no stranger to isolation. Abandoned as an infant in China, she lived in an orphanage until a family in California adopted her as a toddler. She spent her adolescence in boarding schools and early adult years in and out of psychiatric hospitals, where she underwent treatment for bipolar disorder, anxiety, and anorexia.

The pandemic left Ms. McDermott feeling especially lonely. She restricted social interactions because her fatty liver disease put her at greater risk of complications should she contract COVID-19. The 26-year-old Santa Cruz, Calif., resident stopped regularly eating and taking her psychiatric medications, and contemplated suicide.

When Ms. McDermott’s thoughts grew increasingly dark in June, she checked into Second Story, a mental health program based in a home not far from her own, where she finds nonclinical support in a peaceful environment from people who have faced similar challenges.

Second Story is what is known as a “peer respite,” a welcoming place where people can stay when they’re experiencing or nearing a mental health crisis. Betting that a low-key wellness approach, coupled with empathy from people who have “been there,” can help people in distress recover, this unorthodox strategy has gained popularity in recent years as the nation grapples with a severe shortage of psychiatric beds that has been exacerbated by the pandemic.

Peer respites allow guests to avoid psychiatric hospitalization and ED visits. They now operate in at least 14 states. California has five, in the San Francisco Bay Area and Los Angeles County.

“When things are really tough and you need extra support but you don’t need hospitalization, where’s that middle ground?” asked Keris Myrick, founder of Hacienda of Hope, a peer respite in Long Beach, Calif.

Kaiser Health News is a nonprofit news service covering health issues. It is an editorially independent program of KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation), which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Mia McDermott is no stranger to isolation. Abandoned as an infant in China, she lived in an orphanage until a family in California adopted her as a toddler. She spent her adolescence in boarding schools and early adult years in and out of psychiatric hospitals, where she underwent treatment for bipolar disorder, anxiety, and anorexia.

The pandemic left Ms. McDermott feeling especially lonely. She restricted social interactions because her fatty liver disease put her at greater risk of complications should she contract COVID-19. The 26-year-old Santa Cruz, Calif., resident stopped regularly eating and taking her psychiatric medications, and contemplated suicide.

When Ms. McDermott’s thoughts grew increasingly dark in June, she checked into Second Story, a mental health program based in a home not far from her own, where she finds nonclinical support in a peaceful environment from people who have faced similar challenges.

Second Story is what is known as a “peer respite,” a welcoming place where people can stay when they’re experiencing or nearing a mental health crisis. Betting that a low-key wellness approach, coupled with empathy from people who have “been there,” can help people in distress recover, this unorthodox strategy has gained popularity in recent years as the nation grapples with a severe shortage of psychiatric beds that has been exacerbated by the pandemic.

Peer respites allow guests to avoid psychiatric hospitalization and ED visits. They now operate in at least 14 states. California has five, in the San Francisco Bay Area and Los Angeles County.

“When things are really tough and you need extra support but you don’t need hospitalization, where’s that middle ground?” asked Keris Myrick, founder of Hacienda of Hope, a peer respite in Long Beach, Calif.

Kaiser Health News is a nonprofit news service covering health issues. It is an editorially independent program of KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation), which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Mia McDermott is no stranger to isolation. Abandoned as an infant in China, she lived in an orphanage until a family in California adopted her as a toddler. She spent her adolescence in boarding schools and early adult years in and out of psychiatric hospitals, where she underwent treatment for bipolar disorder, anxiety, and anorexia.

The pandemic left Ms. McDermott feeling especially lonely. She restricted social interactions because her fatty liver disease put her at greater risk of complications should she contract COVID-19. The 26-year-old Santa Cruz, Calif., resident stopped regularly eating and taking her psychiatric medications, and contemplated suicide.

When Ms. McDermott’s thoughts grew increasingly dark in June, she checked into Second Story, a mental health program based in a home not far from her own, where she finds nonclinical support in a peaceful environment from people who have faced similar challenges.

Second Story is what is known as a “peer respite,” a welcoming place where people can stay when they’re experiencing or nearing a mental health crisis. Betting that a low-key wellness approach, coupled with empathy from people who have “been there,” can help people in distress recover, this unorthodox strategy has gained popularity in recent years as the nation grapples with a severe shortage of psychiatric beds that has been exacerbated by the pandemic.

Peer respites allow guests to avoid psychiatric hospitalization and ED visits. They now operate in at least 14 states. California has five, in the San Francisco Bay Area and Los Angeles County.

“When things are really tough and you need extra support but you don’t need hospitalization, where’s that middle ground?” asked Keris Myrick, founder of Hacienda of Hope, a peer respite in Long Beach, Calif.

Kaiser Health News is a nonprofit news service covering health issues. It is an editorially independent program of KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation), which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

How many providers does it take to depersonalize a patient? Nine? 1. A psychiatrist for transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS). 2. A psychiatrist for ketamine. 3. A psychiatrist who specializes in substance use disorder medication. 4. A psychiatrist for the rest of the psychotropic medication. 5. An alternative medicine provider who prescribes supplements. 6. A therapist for depression who uses cognitive-behavioral therapy. 7. A therapist for posttraumatic stress disorder who uses eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. 8. An addiction counselor. 9. An equine therapist.

This doesn’t include other providers and professionals who likely contribute to one’s mental well-being, including yoga instructors and personal trainers. In addition, any one of those psychiatrists may have one or more nurse practitioners who routinely step in to attend to appointments.

In our uncertain and lonely times, the value of human contact and interaction has become exponentially more precious. I long to see my patients in my private practice office. I am now much more aware of their grounding effect on my life, and I suspect I had a similar grounding effect on theirs. Few things provide me more comfort than sitting on my lounge chair with a curious gaze waiting for the patient to start the visit. I often wonder what makes a patient choose to go see a private practice physician. Yet a common reason offered is, “Wait! You do everything? Therapy and meds if I need them? You’ll see me every week?”

While I am realistic about the need and use of split-care, I have never been enamored with the concept. I think that few medical students choose psychiatry with the goal of referring all psychotherapeutic needs and intervention to “allied mental health providers” as my prior managed care organization liked to refer to psychologists, social workers, marriage and family therapists, and other counselors. I remember particularly as a chief resident being bombarded by complaints of therapists complaining about psychiatry residents. All of their patients’ symptoms allegedly required medication adjustment and residents were supposedly dismissing them. In return, residents would complain that the therapists did not address the psychological manifestations of the patient’s ailments. Herein lies my problem with split-care, it encourages psychotherapy to be about medication management, and medication management to be about psychotherapy.

However, this is not an article against split-treatment. Psychiatrists, for a variety of reasons, are not suited to perform psychotherapy in most management care models. The main reason being that psychiatrists’ time is too expensive to justify the expense, and psychiatrists are (for the most part), the only ones able to prescribe medications for which the wait-list is already long enough. This article is about the absurd levels at which we have fragmented care of certain patients. Split-treatment is relevant in that its negative side effects, we are almost all familiar with, exemplify the problem of the fragmentation of modern psychiatry. In many ways this fragmentation of care is similar to polypharmacy – the premise for each psychotropic intervention may be sound, but the end result is often incoherent.

My main concern with the fragmentation of modern psychiatry stems from my belief that the most important facet of our work is our relationship with our patients. It is the duty we owe them, the attention we give them, the unique nature of interactions. Who among the nine providers is responsible for writing a discharge summary? Who is responsible for calling an emergency contact in a critical situation? Who communicates with the new provider when someone is taken off an insurance panel? Who makes the patient feel cared for? I am often confronted by this situation when TMS or ketamine providers say, “I just give the procedure/medication that was ordered by the referring psychiatrist.” This response disturbs me in that I could not imagine myself being so hands off in the care of a patient. There is an implication of projected immunity and lack of responsibility that bothers me.

But my concerns are also practical. From my forensic experience, I am well aware that the larger the number of providers treating a patient, the larger the number of inconsistent diagnoses, the more likely medication reconciliations are not kept up to date or incorrect, and the more likely intervention recommendations are contrary to one another. A disengaged ketamine provider may not realize that the patient was more recently enrolled in a substance use disorder program, a potential contraindication for ketamine, if not well-abreast of the patient’s continued evolution. A disengaged therapist may not realize that a patient appears unmotivated because of an increasing dose of medication rather than poor effort. A substance use disorder psychiatric specialist may be at odds with a substance use disorder counselor who worries about the message of treating psychiatric symptoms with chemical substances if they don’t communicate.

As with polypharmacy, “polydoctoring” has negative effects. While the field of psychiatry’s advancing knowledge may encourage providers to specialize, patients still desire and benefit from an intimate and close relationship with one provider who is warm, concerned, and hopeful. Those traits can theoretically be provided by anyone and there is not something inherently wrong with having more than one provider. However, psychiatry would be wise to recognize this concerning trend, especially at a time when we all feel lonely, disconnected, and depersonalized.
 

Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com.

How many providers does it take to depersonalize a patient? Nine? 1. A psychiatrist for transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS). 2. A psychiatrist for ketamine. 3. A psychiatrist who specializes in substance use disorder medication. 4. A psychiatrist for the rest of the psychotropic medication. 5. An alternative medicine provider who prescribes supplements. 6. A therapist for depression who uses cognitive-behavioral therapy. 7. A therapist for posttraumatic stress disorder who uses eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. 8. An addiction counselor. 9. An equine therapist.

This doesn’t include other providers and professionals who likely contribute to one’s mental well-being, including yoga instructors and personal trainers. In addition, any one of those psychiatrists may have one or more nurse practitioners who routinely step in to attend to appointments.

In our uncertain and lonely times, the value of human contact and interaction has become exponentially more precious. I long to see my patients in my private practice office. I am now much more aware of their grounding effect on my life, and I suspect I had a similar grounding effect on theirs. Few things provide me more comfort than sitting on my lounge chair with a curious gaze waiting for the patient to start the visit. I often wonder what makes a patient choose to go see a private practice physician. Yet a common reason offered is, “Wait! You do everything? Therapy and meds if I need them? You’ll see me every week?”

While I am realistic about the need and use of split-care, I have never been enamored with the concept. I think that few medical students choose psychiatry with the goal of referring all psychotherapeutic needs and intervention to “allied mental health providers” as my prior managed care organization liked to refer to psychologists, social workers, marriage and family therapists, and other counselors. I remember particularly as a chief resident being bombarded by complaints of therapists complaining about psychiatry residents. All of their patients’ symptoms allegedly required medication adjustment and residents were supposedly dismissing them. In return, residents would complain that the therapists did not address the psychological manifestations of the patient’s ailments. Herein lies my problem with split-care, it encourages psychotherapy to be about medication management, and medication management to be about psychotherapy.

However, this is not an article against split-treatment. Psychiatrists, for a variety of reasons, are not suited to perform psychotherapy in most management care models. The main reason being that psychiatrists’ time is too expensive to justify the expense, and psychiatrists are (for the most part), the only ones able to prescribe medications for which the wait-list is already long enough. This article is about the absurd levels at which we have fragmented care of certain patients. Split-treatment is relevant in that its negative side effects, we are almost all familiar with, exemplify the problem of the fragmentation of modern psychiatry. In many ways this fragmentation of care is similar to polypharmacy – the premise for each psychotropic intervention may be sound, but the end result is often incoherent.

My main concern with the fragmentation of modern psychiatry stems from my belief that the most important facet of our work is our relationship with our patients. It is the duty we owe them, the attention we give them, the unique nature of interactions. Who among the nine providers is responsible for writing a discharge summary? Who is responsible for calling an emergency contact in a critical situation? Who communicates with the new provider when someone is taken off an insurance panel? Who makes the patient feel cared for? I am often confronted by this situation when TMS or ketamine providers say, “I just give the procedure/medication that was ordered by the referring psychiatrist.” This response disturbs me in that I could not imagine myself being so hands off in the care of a patient. There is an implication of projected immunity and lack of responsibility that bothers me.

But my concerns are also practical. From my forensic experience, I am well aware that the larger the number of providers treating a patient, the larger the number of inconsistent diagnoses, the more likely medication reconciliations are not kept up to date or incorrect, and the more likely intervention recommendations are contrary to one another. A disengaged ketamine provider may not realize that the patient was more recently enrolled in a substance use disorder program, a potential contraindication for ketamine, if not well-abreast of the patient’s continued evolution. A disengaged therapist may not realize that a patient appears unmotivated because of an increasing dose of medication rather than poor effort. A substance use disorder psychiatric specialist may be at odds with a substance use disorder counselor who worries about the message of treating psychiatric symptoms with chemical substances if they don’t communicate.

As with polypharmacy, “polydoctoring” has negative effects. While the field of psychiatry’s advancing knowledge may encourage providers to specialize, patients still desire and benefit from an intimate and close relationship with one provider who is warm, concerned, and hopeful. Those traits can theoretically be provided by anyone and there is not something inherently wrong with having more than one provider. However, psychiatry would be wise to recognize this concerning trend, especially at a time when we all feel lonely, disconnected, and depersonalized.
 

Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com.

How many providers does it take to depersonalize a patient? Nine? 1. A psychiatrist for transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS). 2. A psychiatrist for ketamine. 3. A psychiatrist who specializes in substance use disorder medication. 4. A psychiatrist for the rest of the psychotropic medication. 5. An alternative medicine provider who prescribes supplements. 6. A therapist for depression who uses cognitive-behavioral therapy. 7. A therapist for posttraumatic stress disorder who uses eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. 8. An addiction counselor. 9. An equine therapist.

This doesn’t include other providers and professionals who likely contribute to one’s mental well-being, including yoga instructors and personal trainers. In addition, any one of those psychiatrists may have one or more nurse practitioners who routinely step in to attend to appointments.

In our uncertain and lonely times, the value of human contact and interaction has become exponentially more precious. I long to see my patients in my private practice office. I am now much more aware of their grounding effect on my life, and I suspect I had a similar grounding effect on theirs. Few things provide me more comfort than sitting on my lounge chair with a curious gaze waiting for the patient to start the visit. I often wonder what makes a patient choose to go see a private practice physician. Yet a common reason offered is, “Wait! You do everything? Therapy and meds if I need them? You’ll see me every week?”

While I am realistic about the need and use of split-care, I have never been enamored with the concept. I think that few medical students choose psychiatry with the goal of referring all psychotherapeutic needs and intervention to “allied mental health providers” as my prior managed care organization liked to refer to psychologists, social workers, marriage and family therapists, and other counselors. I remember particularly as a chief resident being bombarded by complaints of therapists complaining about psychiatry residents. All of their patients’ symptoms allegedly required medication adjustment and residents were supposedly dismissing them. In return, residents would complain that the therapists did not address the psychological manifestations of the patient’s ailments. Herein lies my problem with split-care, it encourages psychotherapy to be about medication management, and medication management to be about psychotherapy.

However, this is not an article against split-treatment. Psychiatrists, for a variety of reasons, are not suited to perform psychotherapy in most management care models. The main reason being that psychiatrists’ time is too expensive to justify the expense, and psychiatrists are (for the most part), the only ones able to prescribe medications for which the wait-list is already long enough. This article is about the absurd levels at which we have fragmented care of certain patients. Split-treatment is relevant in that its negative side effects, we are almost all familiar with, exemplify the problem of the fragmentation of modern psychiatry. In many ways this fragmentation of care is similar to polypharmacy – the premise for each psychotropic intervention may be sound, but the end result is often incoherent.

My main concern with the fragmentation of modern psychiatry stems from my belief that the most important facet of our work is our relationship with our patients. It is the duty we owe them, the attention we give them, the unique nature of interactions. Who among the nine providers is responsible for writing a discharge summary? Who is responsible for calling an emergency contact in a critical situation? Who communicates with the new provider when someone is taken off an insurance panel? Who makes the patient feel cared for? I am often confronted by this situation when TMS or ketamine providers say, “I just give the procedure/medication that was ordered by the referring psychiatrist.” This response disturbs me in that I could not imagine myself being so hands off in the care of a patient. There is an implication of projected immunity and lack of responsibility that bothers me.

But my concerns are also practical. From my forensic experience, I am well aware that the larger the number of providers treating a patient, the larger the number of inconsistent diagnoses, the more likely medication reconciliations are not kept up to date or incorrect, and the more likely intervention recommendations are contrary to one another. A disengaged ketamine provider may not realize that the patient was more recently enrolled in a substance use disorder program, a potential contraindication for ketamine, if not well-abreast of the patient’s continued evolution. A disengaged therapist may not realize that a patient appears unmotivated because of an increasing dose of medication rather than poor effort. A substance use disorder psychiatric specialist may be at odds with a substance use disorder counselor who worries about the message of treating psychiatric symptoms with chemical substances if they don’t communicate.

As with polypharmacy, “polydoctoring” has negative effects. While the field of psychiatry’s advancing knowledge may encourage providers to specialize, patients still desire and benefit from an intimate and close relationship with one provider who is warm, concerned, and hopeful. Those traits can theoretically be provided by anyone and there is not something inherently wrong with having more than one provider. However, psychiatry would be wise to recognize this concerning trend, especially at a time when we all feel lonely, disconnected, and depersonalized.
 

Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com.

The first month of the coronavirus pandemic created almost as much psychological distress among American adults as they had experienced in the year before February 2019, according to the results of two representative surveys.

“The 30-day prevalence of SD [serious distress] in May 2020 did not differ from the past-year prevalence of SD assessed with the same instrument [the Kessler-6 distress scale] in February 2019. In other words, equal numbers of people experienced SD in 30-days during the pandemic as experienced SD over an entire year prior to the pandemic,” Joshua Breslau, PhD, and associates at the Rand Corporation wrote in Preventive Medicine.

In May of 2020, the prevalence of SD was 10.1% in the previous month among 1,870 adults aged 20 years and older who had participated in the two Rand American Life Panel surveys, the first occurring in February 2019. In that earlier poll, 10.9% of the 2,555 respondents said that they experienced SD in the worst month of the previous year, the investigators said.

The prevalence of overall psychological distress increased by 12.8% from February 2019 to May 2020, with increases higher among women (17.7%) than men (10.6%); adults under age 60 years, compared with those over 60 (see graph); and Hispanics, compared with other races/ethnicities. Disparities also were seen among income groups: Distress rose 10.2% for those earning over $100,000, compared with 15.4% for those making less than $35,000 and 18.2% for Americans earning between $35,000 and $60,000, the researchers reported.

A high level of stress in the prepandemic survey strongly predicted serious distress during the pandemic. “Risk for SD during the pandemic among those with SD during a year before the pandemic was almost 3 times higher than among those reporting mild/moderate distress and 15 times higher than among those reporting no/low distress during the prepandemic year,” they noted.

Distress levels often return to normal after a disaster, Dr. Breslau and associates pointed out, but “the pandemic’s influence on economic stressors, disruption of usual activities and subsequent effects on population health may continue for an extended period and affect different regions of the country at different points in time.”

[email protected]

SOURCE: Breslau J et al. Prev Med. 2020 Dec 31. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2020.106362.

The first month of the coronavirus pandemic created almost as much psychological distress among American adults as they had experienced in the year before February 2019, according to the results of two representative surveys.

“The 30-day prevalence of SD [serious distress] in May 2020 did not differ from the past-year prevalence of SD assessed with the same instrument [the Kessler-6 distress scale] in February 2019. In other words, equal numbers of people experienced SD in 30-days during the pandemic as experienced SD over an entire year prior to the pandemic,” Joshua Breslau, PhD, and associates at the Rand Corporation wrote in Preventive Medicine.

In May of 2020, the prevalence of SD was 10.1% in the previous month among 1,870 adults aged 20 years and older who had participated in the two Rand American Life Panel surveys, the first occurring in February 2019. In that earlier poll, 10.9% of the 2,555 respondents said that they experienced SD in the worst month of the previous year, the investigators said.

The prevalence of overall psychological distress increased by 12.8% from February 2019 to May 2020, with increases higher among women (17.7%) than men (10.6%); adults under age 60 years, compared with those over 60 (see graph); and Hispanics, compared with other races/ethnicities. Disparities also were seen among income groups: Distress rose 10.2% for those earning over $100,000, compared with 15.4% for those making less than $35,000 and 18.2% for Americans earning between $35,000 and $60,000, the researchers reported.

A high level of stress in the prepandemic survey strongly predicted serious distress during the pandemic. “Risk for SD during the pandemic among those with SD during a year before the pandemic was almost 3 times higher than among those reporting mild/moderate distress and 15 times higher than among those reporting no/low distress during the prepandemic year,” they noted.

Distress levels often return to normal after a disaster, Dr. Breslau and associates pointed out, but “the pandemic’s influence on economic stressors, disruption of usual activities and subsequent effects on population health may continue for an extended period and affect different regions of the country at different points in time.”

[email protected]

SOURCE: Breslau J et al. Prev Med. 2020 Dec 31. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2020.106362.

The first month of the coronavirus pandemic created almost as much psychological distress among American adults as they had experienced in the year before February 2019, according to the results of two representative surveys.

“The 30-day prevalence of SD [serious distress] in May 2020 did not differ from the past-year prevalence of SD assessed with the same instrument [the Kessler-6 distress scale] in February 2019. In other words, equal numbers of people experienced SD in 30-days during the pandemic as experienced SD over an entire year prior to the pandemic,” Joshua Breslau, PhD, and associates at the Rand Corporation wrote in Preventive Medicine.

In May of 2020, the prevalence of SD was 10.1% in the previous month among 1,870 adults aged 20 years and older who had participated in the two Rand American Life Panel surveys, the first occurring in February 2019. In that earlier poll, 10.9% of the 2,555 respondents said that they experienced SD in the worst month of the previous year, the investigators said.

The prevalence of overall psychological distress increased by 12.8% from February 2019 to May 2020, with increases higher among women (17.7%) than men (10.6%); adults under age 60 years, compared with those over 60 (see graph); and Hispanics, compared with other races/ethnicities. Disparities also were seen among income groups: Distress rose 10.2% for those earning over $100,000, compared with 15.4% for those making less than $35,000 and 18.2% for Americans earning between $35,000 and $60,000, the researchers reported.

A high level of stress in the prepandemic survey strongly predicted serious distress during the pandemic. “Risk for SD during the pandemic among those with SD during a year before the pandemic was almost 3 times higher than among those reporting mild/moderate distress and 15 times higher than among those reporting no/low distress during the prepandemic year,” they noted.

Distress levels often return to normal after a disaster, Dr. Breslau and associates pointed out, but “the pandemic’s influence on economic stressors, disruption of usual activities and subsequent effects on population health may continue for an extended period and affect different regions of the country at different points in time.”

[email protected]

SOURCE: Breslau J et al. Prev Med. 2020 Dec 31. doi: 10.1016/j.ypmed.2020.106362.

When we went to medical school, how many of us thought we would practice through a pandemic? For most of us, 2020 was the most challenging professional year of our lives. As a psychiatrist, I found it particularly odd to be struggling with the same issues as all of my patients and to have all my patients in crisis at the same time. I was repeatedly asked by friends, “How are your patients doing?” My reply, “About the same as the rest of us.” After a period of adapting, I felt truly blessed to be able to practice online. I know many of my colleagues did not have that luxury, and the stress you endured is hard to fathom.

Yet, as Friedrich Nietzsche said in so many words, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,” and here we are in a new year. As we enter 2021, we know so much more about COVID-19 than we did mere months ago, and many of us have been fortunate enough to be vaccinated already.

We should be very proud of our medical and scientific community, which has worked so hard to prevent and treat COVID-19. It is indeed a miracle of modern medicine that two vaccines made their way through development to distribution in under a year. It is a great relief that health care workers are first in line: Of the 4 million vaccine doses given worldwide, 2 million were to U.S. medical personnel. We can now track the number of people vaccinated around the globe.

Yet, “the darkest hour is just before the dawn.” We are currently in the riskiest part of the pandemic, and we must continue to work hard.

RelaxFoto.de/Getty Images

• Physical vitality: The toll of 2020 has been enormous. If we are to rebound, we must care for ourselves. In our training, we were taught to put our health aside and work grueling hours. But to recover from trauma, we must attend to our own needs. Even after we are vaccinated, we must keep our nutritional status and immunity functioning at optimal levels. Let’s not get COVID-19 complacency. Clearly, health matters most. Ours included!
• Mental toughness: We made it through an incredibly grueling year, and we had to “build it as we sailed.” We figured out how to save as many lives as we could and simultaneously keep ourselves and our families safe. We have seen things previously unimaginable. We have adjusted to telemedicine. We have lived with far fewer pleasures. We have cultivated multiple ways to tame our anxieties. The year 2020 is one we can be proud of for ourselves and our colleagues. We have come a long way in a short time.
• Emotional balance: Anxiety and depression were easy to fall into in 2020. But as the pandemic subsides, the pendulum will swing the other way. The 1918 pandemic gave rise to the Roaring Twenties. What will the next chapter in our civilization bring? We can choose to actively cultivate positive emotions, such as joy, gratitude, and optimism as we move forward.
• Loving and strong connections. Our relationships are what give depth and meaning to our lives, and these relationships are crucial now so we can heal. How can we nourish our connections? What toll has the pandemic taken on those closest to you? Did some friends or family step up and help? Can we move out of our caretaker role and allow others to care for us?
• Spiritual connection: Facing so much grief and suffering, we have had an opportunity to look at our own lives from a different perspective. It has been an important year for reflection. How can we cultivate a deeper appreciation recognizing that every day is truly a gift? Did you find more purpose in your work last year? What sustained you in your time of need?
• Inspiring leadership: As health care professionals, we must set an example. We must show our patients and our families how resilient we can be. Let’s grow from trauma and avoid succumbing to depression, self-destructive tendencies, and divisiveness. We must continue to care for ourselves, our patients, and our community and work together to ensure a brighter and safer future for all.

Wishing you a safe, happy and healthy 2021.



“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

– Carl Jung, PhD
 

Dr. Ritvo, a psychiatrist with more than 25 years’ experience, practices in Miami Beach. She is the author of “Bekindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Mimosa Publishing, 2018). She has no conflicts of interest.

When we went to medical school, how many of us thought we would practice through a pandemic? For most of us, 2020 was the most challenging professional year of our lives. As a psychiatrist, I found it particularly odd to be struggling with the same issues as all of my patients and to have all my patients in crisis at the same time. I was repeatedly asked by friends, “How are your patients doing?” My reply, “About the same as the rest of us.” After a period of adapting, I felt truly blessed to be able to practice online. I know many of my colleagues did not have that luxury, and the stress you endured is hard to fathom.

Yet, as Friedrich Nietzsche said in so many words, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,” and here we are in a new year. As we enter 2021, we know so much more about COVID-19 than we did mere months ago, and many of us have been fortunate enough to be vaccinated already.

We should be very proud of our medical and scientific community, which has worked so hard to prevent and treat COVID-19. It is indeed a miracle of modern medicine that two vaccines made their way through development to distribution in under a year. It is a great relief that health care workers are first in line: Of the 4 million vaccine doses given worldwide, 2 million were to U.S. medical personnel. We can now track the number of people vaccinated around the globe.

Yet, “the darkest hour is just before the dawn.” We are currently in the riskiest part of the pandemic, and we must continue to work hard.

RelaxFoto.de/Getty Images

• Physical vitality: The toll of 2020 has been enormous. If we are to rebound, we must care for ourselves. In our training, we were taught to put our health aside and work grueling hours. But to recover from trauma, we must attend to our own needs. Even after we are vaccinated, we must keep our nutritional status and immunity functioning at optimal levels. Let’s not get COVID-19 complacency. Clearly, health matters most. Ours included!
• Mental toughness: We made it through an incredibly grueling year, and we had to “build it as we sailed.” We figured out how to save as many lives as we could and simultaneously keep ourselves and our families safe. We have seen things previously unimaginable. We have adjusted to telemedicine. We have lived with far fewer pleasures. We have cultivated multiple ways to tame our anxieties. The year 2020 is one we can be proud of for ourselves and our colleagues. We have come a long way in a short time.
• Emotional balance: Anxiety and depression were easy to fall into in 2020. But as the pandemic subsides, the pendulum will swing the other way. The 1918 pandemic gave rise to the Roaring Twenties. What will the next chapter in our civilization bring? We can choose to actively cultivate positive emotions, such as joy, gratitude, and optimism as we move forward.
• Loving and strong connections. Our relationships are what give depth and meaning to our lives, and these relationships are crucial now so we can heal. How can we nourish our connections? What toll has the pandemic taken on those closest to you? Did some friends or family step up and help? Can we move out of our caretaker role and allow others to care for us?
• Spiritual connection: Facing so much grief and suffering, we have had an opportunity to look at our own lives from a different perspective. It has been an important year for reflection. How can we cultivate a deeper appreciation recognizing that every day is truly a gift? Did you find more purpose in your work last year? What sustained you in your time of need?
• Inspiring leadership: As health care professionals, we must set an example. We must show our patients and our families how resilient we can be. Let’s grow from trauma and avoid succumbing to depression, self-destructive tendencies, and divisiveness. We must continue to care for ourselves, our patients, and our community and work together to ensure a brighter and safer future for all.

Wishing you a safe, happy and healthy 2021.



“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

– Carl Jung, PhD
 

Dr. Ritvo, a psychiatrist with more than 25 years’ experience, practices in Miami Beach. She is the author of “Bekindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Mimosa Publishing, 2018). She has no conflicts of interest.

When we went to medical school, how many of us thought we would practice through a pandemic? For most of us, 2020 was the most challenging professional year of our lives. As a psychiatrist, I found it particularly odd to be struggling with the same issues as all of my patients and to have all my patients in crisis at the same time. I was repeatedly asked by friends, “How are your patients doing?” My reply, “About the same as the rest of us.” After a period of adapting, I felt truly blessed to be able to practice online. I know many of my colleagues did not have that luxury, and the stress you endured is hard to fathom.

Yet, as Friedrich Nietzsche said in so many words, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,” and here we are in a new year. As we enter 2021, we know so much more about COVID-19 than we did mere months ago, and many of us have been fortunate enough to be vaccinated already.

We should be very proud of our medical and scientific community, which has worked so hard to prevent and treat COVID-19. It is indeed a miracle of modern medicine that two vaccines made their way through development to distribution in under a year. It is a great relief that health care workers are first in line: Of the 4 million vaccine doses given worldwide, 2 million were to U.S. medical personnel. We can now track the number of people vaccinated around the globe.

Yet, “the darkest hour is just before the dawn.” We are currently in the riskiest part of the pandemic, and we must continue to work hard.

RelaxFoto.de/Getty Images

• Physical vitality: The toll of 2020 has been enormous. If we are to rebound, we must care for ourselves. In our training, we were taught to put our health aside and work grueling hours. But to recover from trauma, we must attend to our own needs. Even after we are vaccinated, we must keep our nutritional status and immunity functioning at optimal levels. Let’s not get COVID-19 complacency. Clearly, health matters most. Ours included!
• Mental toughness: We made it through an incredibly grueling year, and we had to “build it as we sailed.” We figured out how to save as many lives as we could and simultaneously keep ourselves and our families safe. We have seen things previously unimaginable. We have adjusted to telemedicine. We have lived with far fewer pleasures. We have cultivated multiple ways to tame our anxieties. The year 2020 is one we can be proud of for ourselves and our colleagues. We have come a long way in a short time.
• Emotional balance: Anxiety and depression were easy to fall into in 2020. But as the pandemic subsides, the pendulum will swing the other way. The 1918 pandemic gave rise to the Roaring Twenties. What will the next chapter in our civilization bring? We can choose to actively cultivate positive emotions, such as joy, gratitude, and optimism as we move forward.
• Loving and strong connections. Our relationships are what give depth and meaning to our lives, and these relationships are crucial now so we can heal. How can we nourish our connections? What toll has the pandemic taken on those closest to you? Did some friends or family step up and help? Can we move out of our caretaker role and allow others to care for us?
• Spiritual connection: Facing so much grief and suffering, we have had an opportunity to look at our own lives from a different perspective. It has been an important year for reflection. How can we cultivate a deeper appreciation recognizing that every day is truly a gift? Did you find more purpose in your work last year? What sustained you in your time of need?
• Inspiring leadership: As health care professionals, we must set an example. We must show our patients and our families how resilient we can be. Let’s grow from trauma and avoid succumbing to depression, self-destructive tendencies, and divisiveness. We must continue to care for ourselves, our patients, and our community and work together to ensure a brighter and safer future for all.

Wishing you a safe, happy and healthy 2021.



“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

– Carl Jung, PhD
 

Dr. Ritvo, a psychiatrist with more than 25 years’ experience, practices in Miami Beach. She is the author of “Bekindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Mimosa Publishing, 2018). She has no conflicts of interest.

In mid-April, a month into pandemic life with a stay-at-home order, I wrote about my experiences as a virtual outpatient psychiatrist in private practice. It’s been 10 months now and with this tragic year drawing to a close, it seems like a good time for an update.

FatCamera/E+

In that April column, I describe how I created a makeshift home office. This entailed pushing my son’s baseball card collection and dusty sports trophies to the side of the room, bringing in a desk and a rug, a house plant, and a statue of a Buddha. I enjoyed watching out the window behind my computer screen as the neighbors and their dogs walked by, and I loved seeing the tree out the window blossom into gorgeous flowers.

With time, my physical space has changed. The remnants of my son’s childhood have all been moved to a closet, artwork has been added to the wall behind me, and the space is now clearly an office, though my laptop remains propped on a pile of books so that no one is looking up my nose. The room, with four large windows facing north and west, has issues with temperature control. In an old house, the heat works all too well in the adjacent bedroom (while the rest of the occupants in other rooms freeze), but the office itself has no heat: I have added both a fan and a space heater, and there are some very cold days where I’ve propped open one of the windows. And with the shortened days, large windows on two walls have presented a challenge as the sun changes positions throughout the day – there are times when the sun’s rays streak across my face in such a way that I look rather ethereal, and between sessions I have lowered, raised, and adjusted the blinds to avoid this. I finally pulled off the thin metal venetian blinds and took them to Lowe’s, where a partially masked young woman cut me new blinds with larger slats. An ergonomic office chair has replaced the wicker Ikea chair I was using, and between all these machinations, I am now physically comfortable most of the time. I believe I am still a bit too pixelated on the screen, but my patients are not complaining, and when the natural lighting fades at 4:30 p.m., the overhead lighting is all wrong again. These all are things I never considered – or long ago addressed – in my real-life practice of psychiatry in a office I have loved for years.

With time, I’ve grown more comfortable working from home on a screen and there are things about this life I’ve grown to like. My husband no longer travels, my daughter – my gift of the pandemic – returned home from New York City where she was in her final months of graduate school, and these unexpected months with her (and her cat) have been a pleasure. There is something nice about being trapped at home with people I love, even if we are all in our respective places, in front of our separate screens. There has been time for long walks, trips to the beach, and long bike rides. And as my daughter now prepares to move to Denver, I have been heartened by the hope of vaccines, and the knowledge that I will likely be able to see her again in the coming months. The people are not the only ones who have benefited from this time at home together – I have no idea how we would have managed with our elderly dog if we were not home to care for him.

My life has become more efficient. I used to find myself aggravated when patients forgot their appointments, a not-infrequent occurrence. “No shows” are now extremely rare – if a patient forgets, I call and they sign on to their screen and have their session. People no longer get caught in traffic, they come on time, and they don’t complain about my crowded parking lot. When there is down time, I use it more efficiently at home – a load of laundry gets done, I get a chance to turn on the news or exercise, or make dinner early. And because I have two other family members working from home, I am not the only one mixing work with chores or exercise.

While my medical colleagues who work in settings where they must see patients in person have struggled or functioned in some state of denial, I have felt safe and protected, a bit cocooned with my family in a house big enough to give us all space, in a neighborhood with sidewalks and places to walk, and to protect my sanity, I am lucky to have a patio that has now been equipped with lights, patio heaters, a fire pit, and socially distanced tables so that I can still see friends outside.

Telemedicine has added a new dimension to treatment. I’ve had family sessions with multiple people joining a zoom link from different locations – so much easier than coordinating a time when everyone can travel to my office. I’ve had patients call in from cars and from closets in search of privacy, and from their gardens and poolsides. I’ve met spouses, children, many a dog and cat, plus the more unusual of pets and farm animals, including a goat, ferret, lizard, African grey parrot, and guinea pigs.

These are the good things, and while I wish I could say it was all good, so much of what remains is laden with anxiety. My son lives nearby, but he has shared a house with a hospital worker for much of the past year and there were COVID scares, months at a time without so much as a hug, and my husband has not seen his parents or brother for a year now. There are the awkward waves or salutes with friends I once gave carefree hugs, the constant thoughts of how far away is that person standing, and each person’s “beliefs” about what is safe when we still don’t fully understand how this virus spreads. I worry for myself, I worry for my family and friends, and I worry for my patients when they tell me about behaviors that clearly are not safe.

At first, I found my work as a telepsychiatrist to be exhausting, and I assumed it was because my patients were now just faces, inches from my own eyes, and no longer diffused by a visual field that included my whole office and the opportunity to break eye contact while I still listened with full attention. This has gotten much better – I’ve adjusted to my on-screen relationships, but what has not gotten better is both the acuity, and sometimes the boredom.

Patients are struggling; they are sad, lonely, and missing the richness of their former lives. They miss friends, meeting new people, cultural experiences, diversity in how they spend their time, and travel. They have all the same human experiences of loss, illness, and grief, but with the added burden of struggling alone or within the confines of pandemic life that has destroyed our ability to mark events with social and religious customs that guide healing. People who had done well for years are now needing more, and those who were not doing well are doing worse. It makes for long days.

I mentioned boredom: With less time spent with other people, so many sessions are about COVID – who has it, who might have it, what people are doing to avoid it, and still, how they get their groceries. The second most popular psychotherapy topic includes what they are watching on Netflix, and as human beings trudging through this together, I have appreciated my patients’ suggestions as much as they have appreciated mine.* Life for all of us has come to be more about survival, and less about self-discovery and striving. Many sessions have started to feel the same from 1 hour to the next, in ways they never did before.

There are other aspects to telepsychiatry that I have found difficult. The site I have used most – Doxy.me – works well with some patients, but with others there are technical problems. Sessions freeze, the sound goes in or out, and we end up switching to another platform, which may or may not work better. Sometimes patients have the camera at odd angles, or they bounce a laptop on their knees to the point that I get seasick. One of my family members has said that I can sometimes be overheard, so I now have a radio playing classical music outside my door, and I often use earbuds so that the patient can’t be overheard and I speak more softly with them – this has all been good in terms of improving privacy, but after a while I find that it’s stressful to have people talking to me inside my own ears! These are little kinks, but when you do it for hours a day, they add up to a sense of being stressed in ways that in-person psychiatry does not lend itself to.

Finally, three seasons into my work-at-home life, I still have not found a new rhythm for some of the logistical aspects of private practice that came so easily in my office. My mail still goes to the office, the plants there still need water, my files and computer are there, but tasks that were once a seamless part of my work day now spill into my time off and I go into the office each week to file, log medications, and attend to the business of my practice. My smartphone, with its ability to e-prescribe, invoice, and fax, has made it possible for me to manage and certainly, outpatient psychiatrists are very lucky that we have the option to continue our work with patients remotely during such difficult times.

I have sent people for virtual intensive substance treatment, and to virtual couples’ counseling, and these remote treatments have been useful. The one treatment that has been very difficult for patients to negotiate has been outpatient electroconvulsive therapy – this requires coordination with another person to drive the patient to treatments (and to wait outside in the parking lot), and also for separate weekly COVID testing. Transcranial magnetic stimulation, which also is still being done in person, has not been any different – patients can drive themselves and the one center I referred to has not required preprocedure COVID testing.

What does the future hold? Will we ever go back to practicing the way we did? While some of my patients miss real-life therapy, most do not; they too like the added efficiency, getting treatment from the comfort of their home without the stress of finding the time to travel. I’ve taken on new patients during this time, and while I anticipated that it would be difficult, it has gone surprisingly well – people I have never met in real life talk to me with ease, and both psychotherapy and medication management have gone well. The one area that I have found most difficult is assessing tremors and dyskinesias, and one patient mentioned she has gained nearly 50 pounds over the past year – something I certainly would have noticed and attended to sooner in real life. I have mixed feelings about returning to a completely live practice. I think I would like a combination where I see all my patients in person once in a while, but would like to be able to offer some times where I see people virtually from home at least one day a week.

Time will tell how that plays out with insurers. My best guess is that, with the lowered no-show rates that everyone is seeing and the higher levels of depression and anxiety that people are having, this may have been a costly time for mental health care. At the same time, inpatient psychiatric units have decreased their capacity, and perhaps more efficient delivery of outpatient care has lowered the overall cost. I suppose we will wait to hear, but for many, the transition to virtual care has allowed many people to get treatment who would have otherwise gone without care.

In my April article, I mentioned that I was having daily Facetime check-in visits with a distressed patient who was on a COVID unit with pneumonia. Since then, I have had several more patients contract COVID, and many of my patients have had family members who have tested positive or become symptomatic with COVID. It has been nice to have sessions with people during this time, and thankfully, I have not had any more patients who have required hospitalization for the virus.

I still catch myself thinking that, of all the things I have worried about over the years, “pandemic” was never on my list. It seems so strange that I left my office on a Friday with no idea that I would not be returning to work the following Monday, or that life would change in such a radical way. As we leave this awful year behind and greet the new one with the hope that vaccines and a new administration might offer solutions, I’d like to wish my readers the best for a healthy, safe, and gentle New Year.



*My top viewing picks for now are “The Queen’s Gambit” (Netflix), and “A Place to Call Home” (Acorn).

Dr. Miller is coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

In mid-April, a month into pandemic life with a stay-at-home order, I wrote about my experiences as a virtual outpatient psychiatrist in private practice. It’s been 10 months now and with this tragic year drawing to a close, it seems like a good time for an update.

FatCamera/E+

In that April column, I describe how I created a makeshift home office. This entailed pushing my son’s baseball card collection and dusty sports trophies to the side of the room, bringing in a desk and a rug, a house plant, and a statue of a Buddha. I enjoyed watching out the window behind my computer screen as the neighbors and their dogs walked by, and I loved seeing the tree out the window blossom into gorgeous flowers.

With time, my physical space has changed. The remnants of my son’s childhood have all been moved to a closet, artwork has been added to the wall behind me, and the space is now clearly an office, though my laptop remains propped on a pile of books so that no one is looking up my nose. The room, with four large windows facing north and west, has issues with temperature control. In an old house, the heat works all too well in the adjacent bedroom (while the rest of the occupants in other rooms freeze), but the office itself has no heat: I have added both a fan and a space heater, and there are some very cold days where I’ve propped open one of the windows. And with the shortened days, large windows on two walls have presented a challenge as the sun changes positions throughout the day – there are times when the sun’s rays streak across my face in such a way that I look rather ethereal, and between sessions I have lowered, raised, and adjusted the blinds to avoid this. I finally pulled off the thin metal venetian blinds and took them to Lowe’s, where a partially masked young woman cut me new blinds with larger slats. An ergonomic office chair has replaced the wicker Ikea chair I was using, and between all these machinations, I am now physically comfortable most of the time. I believe I am still a bit too pixelated on the screen, but my patients are not complaining, and when the natural lighting fades at 4:30 p.m., the overhead lighting is all wrong again. These all are things I never considered – or long ago addressed – in my real-life practice of psychiatry in a office I have loved for years.

With time, I’ve grown more comfortable working from home on a screen and there are things about this life I’ve grown to like. My husband no longer travels, my daughter – my gift of the pandemic – returned home from New York City where she was in her final months of graduate school, and these unexpected months with her (and her cat) have been a pleasure. There is something nice about being trapped at home with people I love, even if we are all in our respective places, in front of our separate screens. There has been time for long walks, trips to the beach, and long bike rides. And as my daughter now prepares to move to Denver, I have been heartened by the hope of vaccines, and the knowledge that I will likely be able to see her again in the coming months. The people are not the only ones who have benefited from this time at home together – I have no idea how we would have managed with our elderly dog if we were not home to care for him.

My life has become more efficient. I used to find myself aggravated when patients forgot their appointments, a not-infrequent occurrence. “No shows” are now extremely rare – if a patient forgets, I call and they sign on to their screen and have their session. People no longer get caught in traffic, they come on time, and they don’t complain about my crowded parking lot. When there is down time, I use it more efficiently at home – a load of laundry gets done, I get a chance to turn on the news or exercise, or make dinner early. And because I have two other family members working from home, I am not the only one mixing work with chores or exercise.

While my medical colleagues who work in settings where they must see patients in person have struggled or functioned in some state of denial, I have felt safe and protected, a bit cocooned with my family in a house big enough to give us all space, in a neighborhood with sidewalks and places to walk, and to protect my sanity, I am lucky to have a patio that has now been equipped with lights, patio heaters, a fire pit, and socially distanced tables so that I can still see friends outside.

Telemedicine has added a new dimension to treatment. I’ve had family sessions with multiple people joining a zoom link from different locations – so much easier than coordinating a time when everyone can travel to my office. I’ve had patients call in from cars and from closets in search of privacy, and from their gardens and poolsides. I’ve met spouses, children, many a dog and cat, plus the more unusual of pets and farm animals, including a goat, ferret, lizard, African grey parrot, and guinea pigs.

These are the good things, and while I wish I could say it was all good, so much of what remains is laden with anxiety. My son lives nearby, but he has shared a house with a hospital worker for much of the past year and there were COVID scares, months at a time without so much as a hug, and my husband has not seen his parents or brother for a year now. There are the awkward waves or salutes with friends I once gave carefree hugs, the constant thoughts of how far away is that person standing, and each person’s “beliefs” about what is safe when we still don’t fully understand how this virus spreads. I worry for myself, I worry for my family and friends, and I worry for my patients when they tell me about behaviors that clearly are not safe.

At first, I found my work as a telepsychiatrist to be exhausting, and I assumed it was because my patients were now just faces, inches from my own eyes, and no longer diffused by a visual field that included my whole office and the opportunity to break eye contact while I still listened with full attention. This has gotten much better – I’ve adjusted to my on-screen relationships, but what has not gotten better is both the acuity, and sometimes the boredom.

Patients are struggling; they are sad, lonely, and missing the richness of their former lives. They miss friends, meeting new people, cultural experiences, diversity in how they spend their time, and travel. They have all the same human experiences of loss, illness, and grief, but with the added burden of struggling alone or within the confines of pandemic life that has destroyed our ability to mark events with social and religious customs that guide healing. People who had done well for years are now needing more, and those who were not doing well are doing worse. It makes for long days.

I mentioned boredom: With less time spent with other people, so many sessions are about COVID – who has it, who might have it, what people are doing to avoid it, and still, how they get their groceries. The second most popular psychotherapy topic includes what they are watching on Netflix, and as human beings trudging through this together, I have appreciated my patients’ suggestions as much as they have appreciated mine.* Life for all of us has come to be more about survival, and less about self-discovery and striving. Many sessions have started to feel the same from 1 hour to the next, in ways they never did before.

There are other aspects to telepsychiatry that I have found difficult. The site I have used most – Doxy.me – works well with some patients, but with others there are technical problems. Sessions freeze, the sound goes in or out, and we end up switching to another platform, which may or may not work better. Sometimes patients have the camera at odd angles, or they bounce a laptop on their knees to the point that I get seasick. One of my family members has said that I can sometimes be overheard, so I now have a radio playing classical music outside my door, and I often use earbuds so that the patient can’t be overheard and I speak more softly with them – this has all been good in terms of improving privacy, but after a while I find that it’s stressful to have people talking to me inside my own ears! These are little kinks, but when you do it for hours a day, they add up to a sense of being stressed in ways that in-person psychiatry does not lend itself to.

Finally, three seasons into my work-at-home life, I still have not found a new rhythm for some of the logistical aspects of private practice that came so easily in my office. My mail still goes to the office, the plants there still need water, my files and computer are there, but tasks that were once a seamless part of my work day now spill into my time off and I go into the office each week to file, log medications, and attend to the business of my practice. My smartphone, with its ability to e-prescribe, invoice, and fax, has made it possible for me to manage and certainly, outpatient psychiatrists are very lucky that we have the option to continue our work with patients remotely during such difficult times.

I have sent people for virtual intensive substance treatment, and to virtual couples’ counseling, and these remote treatments have been useful. The one treatment that has been very difficult for patients to negotiate has been outpatient electroconvulsive therapy – this requires coordination with another person to drive the patient to treatments (and to wait outside in the parking lot), and also for separate weekly COVID testing. Transcranial magnetic stimulation, which also is still being done in person, has not been any different – patients can drive themselves and the one center I referred to has not required preprocedure COVID testing.

What does the future hold? Will we ever go back to practicing the way we did? While some of my patients miss real-life therapy, most do not; they too like the added efficiency, getting treatment from the comfort of their home without the stress of finding the time to travel. I’ve taken on new patients during this time, and while I anticipated that it would be difficult, it has gone surprisingly well – people I have never met in real life talk to me with ease, and both psychotherapy and medication management have gone well. The one area that I have found most difficult is assessing tremors and dyskinesias, and one patient mentioned she has gained nearly 50 pounds over the past year – something I certainly would have noticed and attended to sooner in real life. I have mixed feelings about returning to a completely live practice. I think I would like a combination where I see all my patients in person once in a while, but would like to be able to offer some times where I see people virtually from home at least one day a week.

Time will tell how that plays out with insurers. My best guess is that, with the lowered no-show rates that everyone is seeing and the higher levels of depression and anxiety that people are having, this may have been a costly time for mental health care. At the same time, inpatient psychiatric units have decreased their capacity, and perhaps more efficient delivery of outpatient care has lowered the overall cost. I suppose we will wait to hear, but for many, the transition to virtual care has allowed many people to get treatment who would have otherwise gone without care.

In my April article, I mentioned that I was having daily Facetime check-in visits with a distressed patient who was on a COVID unit with pneumonia. Since then, I have had several more patients contract COVID, and many of my patients have had family members who have tested positive or become symptomatic with COVID. It has been nice to have sessions with people during this time, and thankfully, I have not had any more patients who have required hospitalization for the virus.

I still catch myself thinking that, of all the things I have worried about over the years, “pandemic” was never on my list. It seems so strange that I left my office on a Friday with no idea that I would not be returning to work the following Monday, or that life would change in such a radical way. As we leave this awful year behind and greet the new one with the hope that vaccines and a new administration might offer solutions, I’d like to wish my readers the best for a healthy, safe, and gentle New Year.



*My top viewing picks for now are “The Queen’s Gambit” (Netflix), and “A Place to Call Home” (Acorn).

Dr. Miller is coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

In mid-April, a month into pandemic life with a stay-at-home order, I wrote about my experiences as a virtual outpatient psychiatrist in private practice. It’s been 10 months now and with this tragic year drawing to a close, it seems like a good time for an update.

FatCamera/E+

In that April column, I describe how I created a makeshift home office. This entailed pushing my son’s baseball card collection and dusty sports trophies to the side of the room, bringing in a desk and a rug, a house plant, and a statue of a Buddha. I enjoyed watching out the window behind my computer screen as the neighbors and their dogs walked by, and I loved seeing the tree out the window blossom into gorgeous flowers.

With time, my physical space has changed. The remnants of my son’s childhood have all been moved to a closet, artwork has been added to the wall behind me, and the space is now clearly an office, though my laptop remains propped on a pile of books so that no one is looking up my nose. The room, with four large windows facing north and west, has issues with temperature control. In an old house, the heat works all too well in the adjacent bedroom (while the rest of the occupants in other rooms freeze), but the office itself has no heat: I have added both a fan and a space heater, and there are some very cold days where I’ve propped open one of the windows. And with the shortened days, large windows on two walls have presented a challenge as the sun changes positions throughout the day – there are times when the sun’s rays streak across my face in such a way that I look rather ethereal, and between sessions I have lowered, raised, and adjusted the blinds to avoid this. I finally pulled off the thin metal venetian blinds and took them to Lowe’s, where a partially masked young woman cut me new blinds with larger slats. An ergonomic office chair has replaced the wicker Ikea chair I was using, and between all these machinations, I am now physically comfortable most of the time. I believe I am still a bit too pixelated on the screen, but my patients are not complaining, and when the natural lighting fades at 4:30 p.m., the overhead lighting is all wrong again. These all are things I never considered – or long ago addressed – in my real-life practice of psychiatry in a office I have loved for years.

With time, I’ve grown more comfortable working from home on a screen and there are things about this life I’ve grown to like. My husband no longer travels, my daughter – my gift of the pandemic – returned home from New York City where she was in her final months of graduate school, and these unexpected months with her (and her cat) have been a pleasure. There is something nice about being trapped at home with people I love, even if we are all in our respective places, in front of our separate screens. There has been time for long walks, trips to the beach, and long bike rides. And as my daughter now prepares to move to Denver, I have been heartened by the hope of vaccines, and the knowledge that I will likely be able to see her again in the coming months. The people are not the only ones who have benefited from this time at home together – I have no idea how we would have managed with our elderly dog if we were not home to care for him.

My life has become more efficient. I used to find myself aggravated when patients forgot their appointments, a not-infrequent occurrence. “No shows” are now extremely rare – if a patient forgets, I call and they sign on to their screen and have their session. People no longer get caught in traffic, they come on time, and they don’t complain about my crowded parking lot. When there is down time, I use it more efficiently at home – a load of laundry gets done, I get a chance to turn on the news or exercise, or make dinner early. And because I have two other family members working from home, I am not the only one mixing work with chores or exercise.

While my medical colleagues who work in settings where they must see patients in person have struggled or functioned in some state of denial, I have felt safe and protected, a bit cocooned with my family in a house big enough to give us all space, in a neighborhood with sidewalks and places to walk, and to protect my sanity, I am lucky to have a patio that has now been equipped with lights, patio heaters, a fire pit, and socially distanced tables so that I can still see friends outside.

Telemedicine has added a new dimension to treatment. I’ve had family sessions with multiple people joining a zoom link from different locations – so much easier than coordinating a time when everyone can travel to my office. I’ve had patients call in from cars and from closets in search of privacy, and from their gardens and poolsides. I’ve met spouses, children, many a dog and cat, plus the more unusual of pets and farm animals, including a goat, ferret, lizard, African grey parrot, and guinea pigs.

These are the good things, and while I wish I could say it was all good, so much of what remains is laden with anxiety. My son lives nearby, but he has shared a house with a hospital worker for much of the past year and there were COVID scares, months at a time without so much as a hug, and my husband has not seen his parents or brother for a year now. There are the awkward waves or salutes with friends I once gave carefree hugs, the constant thoughts of how far away is that person standing, and each person’s “beliefs” about what is safe when we still don’t fully understand how this virus spreads. I worry for myself, I worry for my family and friends, and I worry for my patients when they tell me about behaviors that clearly are not safe.

At first, I found my work as a telepsychiatrist to be exhausting, and I assumed it was because my patients were now just faces, inches from my own eyes, and no longer diffused by a visual field that included my whole office and the opportunity to break eye contact while I still listened with full attention. This has gotten much better – I’ve adjusted to my on-screen relationships, but what has not gotten better is both the acuity, and sometimes the boredom.

Patients are struggling; they are sad, lonely, and missing the richness of their former lives. They miss friends, meeting new people, cultural experiences, diversity in how they spend their time, and travel. They have all the same human experiences of loss, illness, and grief, but with the added burden of struggling alone or within the confines of pandemic life that has destroyed our ability to mark events with social and religious customs that guide healing. People who had done well for years are now needing more, and those who were not doing well are doing worse. It makes for long days.

I mentioned boredom: With less time spent with other people, so many sessions are about COVID – who has it, who might have it, what people are doing to avoid it, and still, how they get their groceries. The second most popular psychotherapy topic includes what they are watching on Netflix, and as human beings trudging through this together, I have appreciated my patients’ suggestions as much as they have appreciated mine.* Life for all of us has come to be more about survival, and less about self-discovery and striving. Many sessions have started to feel the same from 1 hour to the next, in ways they never did before.

There are other aspects to telepsychiatry that I have found difficult. The site I have used most – Doxy.me – works well with some patients, but with others there are technical problems. Sessions freeze, the sound goes in or out, and we end up switching to another platform, which may or may not work better. Sometimes patients have the camera at odd angles, or they bounce a laptop on their knees to the point that I get seasick. One of my family members has said that I can sometimes be overheard, so I now have a radio playing classical music outside my door, and I often use earbuds so that the patient can’t be overheard and I speak more softly with them – this has all been good in terms of improving privacy, but after a while I find that it’s stressful to have people talking to me inside my own ears! These are little kinks, but when you do it for hours a day, they add up to a sense of being stressed in ways that in-person psychiatry does not lend itself to.

Finally, three seasons into my work-at-home life, I still have not found a new rhythm for some of the logistical aspects of private practice that came so easily in my office. My mail still goes to the office, the plants there still need water, my files and computer are there, but tasks that were once a seamless part of my work day now spill into my time off and I go into the office each week to file, log medications, and attend to the business of my practice. My smartphone, with its ability to e-prescribe, invoice, and fax, has made it possible for me to manage and certainly, outpatient psychiatrists are very lucky that we have the option to continue our work with patients remotely during such difficult times.

I have sent people for virtual intensive substance treatment, and to virtual couples’ counseling, and these remote treatments have been useful. The one treatment that has been very difficult for patients to negotiate has been outpatient electroconvulsive therapy – this requires coordination with another person to drive the patient to treatments (and to wait outside in the parking lot), and also for separate weekly COVID testing. Transcranial magnetic stimulation, which also is still being done in person, has not been any different – patients can drive themselves and the one center I referred to has not required preprocedure COVID testing.

What does the future hold? Will we ever go back to practicing the way we did? While some of my patients miss real-life therapy, most do not; they too like the added efficiency, getting treatment from the comfort of their home without the stress of finding the time to travel. I’ve taken on new patients during this time, and while I anticipated that it would be difficult, it has gone surprisingly well – people I have never met in real life talk to me with ease, and both psychotherapy and medication management have gone well. The one area that I have found most difficult is assessing tremors and dyskinesias, and one patient mentioned she has gained nearly 50 pounds over the past year – something I certainly would have noticed and attended to sooner in real life. I have mixed feelings about returning to a completely live practice. I think I would like a combination where I see all my patients in person once in a while, but would like to be able to offer some times where I see people virtually from home at least one day a week.

Time will tell how that plays out with insurers. My best guess is that, with the lowered no-show rates that everyone is seeing and the higher levels of depression and anxiety that people are having, this may have been a costly time for mental health care. At the same time, inpatient psychiatric units have decreased their capacity, and perhaps more efficient delivery of outpatient care has lowered the overall cost. I suppose we will wait to hear, but for many, the transition to virtual care has allowed many people to get treatment who would have otherwise gone without care.

In my April article, I mentioned that I was having daily Facetime check-in visits with a distressed patient who was on a COVID unit with pneumonia. Since then, I have had several more patients contract COVID, and many of my patients have had family members who have tested positive or become symptomatic with COVID. It has been nice to have sessions with people during this time, and thankfully, I have not had any more patients who have required hospitalization for the virus.

I still catch myself thinking that, of all the things I have worried about over the years, “pandemic” was never on my list. It seems so strange that I left my office on a Friday with no idea that I would not be returning to work the following Monday, or that life would change in such a radical way. As we leave this awful year behind and greet the new one with the hope that vaccines and a new administration might offer solutions, I’d like to wish my readers the best for a healthy, safe, and gentle New Year.



*My top viewing picks for now are “The Queen’s Gambit” (Netflix), and “A Place to Call Home” (Acorn).

Dr. Miller is coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

A physician assistant participating in a virtual workshop began to cry, confessing that she felt overwhelmed with guilt because New Yorkers were hailing her as a frontline hero in the pandemic. That was when Joe Ciavarro knew he was in the right place.

rclassenlayouts/Getty Images

“She was saying all the things I could not verbalize because I, too, didn’t feel like I deserved all this praise and thousands of people cheering for us every evening when people were losing jobs, didn’t have money for food, and their loved ones were dying without family at their side,” says Mr. Ciavarro, a PA at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York.

Mr. Ciavarro, who also manages 170 other PAs on two of Mount Sinai’s campuses in Manhattan, has been on the front lines since COVID-19 first hit; he lost a colleague and friend to suicide in September.

The mental anguish from his job prompted him to sign up for the resilience workshop offered by Mount Sinai’s Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth. The center – the first of its kind in North America – was launched in June to help health care workers like him cope with the intense psychological pressures they were facing. The weekly workshops became a safe place where Mr. Ciavarro and other staff members could share their darkest fears and learn ways to help them deal with their situation.

“It’s been grueling but we learned how to take care of ourselves so we can take care of our patients,” said Mr. Ciavarro. “This has become like a guided group therapy session on ways to manage and develop resilience. And I feel like my emotions are validated, knowing that others feel the same way.”
 

Caring for their own

Medical professionals treating patients with COVID-19 are in similar predicaments, and the psychological fallout is enormous: They’re exhausted by the seemingly never-ending patient load and staffing shortages, and haunted by fears for their own safety and that of their families. Studies in China, Canada, and Italy have revealed that a significant number of doctors and nurses in the early days of the pandemic experienced high levels of distress, depression, anxiety, nightmares, and insomnia.

Trauma experts at Mount Sinai believe that, globally, up to 40% of first responders and health care workers – tens of thousands of people – will suffer from PTSD after witnessing the deaths of so many patients who were alone, without family.

How to protect in midst of trauma

In formulating the program’s platform, Mount Sinai experts drew upon their extensive experience aiding 9/11 responders at the World Trade Center (WTC), as well as their system-wide wellness program that aids demoralized and burned-out physicians. While the reach of the pandemic is much broader than 9/11, experts see some commonalities in conditions that emerge after traumatic events, and they also discovered what can help.

“We learned from our WTC experience about what are protective factors – what are the social supports that buffer against depression, anxiety, and PTSD,” said Jonathan DePierro, PhD, clinical director of CSRPG and a psychologist at the Mount Sinai WTC Mental Health Program. “We also learned that people who have more prolonged exposures are at greater risk of developing mental health difficulties.”

The program itself reflects these lessons – and that’s why it’s open to all employees, not just medical professionals. Housekeepers, security staffers, even construction workers are also dealing with their lives being in danger. “That wasn’t in their job description,” said Dr. DePierro. “These people tend to have fewer social and economic resources, make less money and have fewer structural supports, which makes them even more vulnerable.”

Dr. Charney’s strategies on building resilience became a bible of sorts for the workshops, according to Dr. Katz, who authored the training curriculum. Sessions deal with how to build up reservoirs of realistic optimism, keep gratitude journals, find spiritual meaning in their lives, maintain physical wellness and create networks of social support. The workshops are meant to help participants create action plans, to reach out for support in their social networks, and keep the focus on the positives.

The goal is to give demoralized health care workers a renewed sense of competence. “The resilience workshop is a launching point to get people to show up and talk,” said Dr. Katz. “And if we do that, we’ve accomplished a lot just getting people in the door.”

The center will also have a research component to identify what works and what doesn’t so their platform can provide a template for other institutions; Dr. Marin said they’ve gotten inquiries about the program from major hospital systems in Michigan and California. They’ll also conduct longitudinal research to determine what lingering problems persist among healthcare workers over time.

Since the center opened its virtual doors, the curriculum has also been altered in response to feedback from the support staff, many of whom live in the community that surrounds Mount Sinai in northern Manhattan, which is largely lower-income Latinx and Black individuals. Workshop materials have been translated into Spanish and now feature people who reflect a more diverse set of experiences.

“Many of our employees and the population we serve identify as non-White so we’ve been doing outreach with a lot of the local unions,” said Dr. Marin. “Our next step is to take what we’re doing and work with local community organizations.”

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

A physician assistant participating in a virtual workshop began to cry, confessing that she felt overwhelmed with guilt because New Yorkers were hailing her as a frontline hero in the pandemic. That was when Joe Ciavarro knew he was in the right place.

rclassenlayouts/Getty Images

“She was saying all the things I could not verbalize because I, too, didn’t feel like I deserved all this praise and thousands of people cheering for us every evening when people were losing jobs, didn’t have money for food, and their loved ones were dying without family at their side,” says Mr. Ciavarro, a PA at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York.

Mr. Ciavarro, who also manages 170 other PAs on two of Mount Sinai’s campuses in Manhattan, has been on the front lines since COVID-19 first hit; he lost a colleague and friend to suicide in September.

The mental anguish from his job prompted him to sign up for the resilience workshop offered by Mount Sinai’s Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth. The center – the first of its kind in North America – was launched in June to help health care workers like him cope with the intense psychological pressures they were facing. The weekly workshops became a safe place where Mr. Ciavarro and other staff members could share their darkest fears and learn ways to help them deal with their situation.

“It’s been grueling but we learned how to take care of ourselves so we can take care of our patients,” said Mr. Ciavarro. “This has become like a guided group therapy session on ways to manage and develop resilience. And I feel like my emotions are validated, knowing that others feel the same way.”
 

Caring for their own

Medical professionals treating patients with COVID-19 are in similar predicaments, and the psychological fallout is enormous: They’re exhausted by the seemingly never-ending patient load and staffing shortages, and haunted by fears for their own safety and that of their families. Studies in China, Canada, and Italy have revealed that a significant number of doctors and nurses in the early days of the pandemic experienced high levels of distress, depression, anxiety, nightmares, and insomnia.

Trauma experts at Mount Sinai believe that, globally, up to 40% of first responders and health care workers – tens of thousands of people – will suffer from PTSD after witnessing the deaths of so many patients who were alone, without family.

How to protect in midst of trauma

In formulating the program’s platform, Mount Sinai experts drew upon their extensive experience aiding 9/11 responders at the World Trade Center (WTC), as well as their system-wide wellness program that aids demoralized and burned-out physicians. While the reach of the pandemic is much broader than 9/11, experts see some commonalities in conditions that emerge after traumatic events, and they also discovered what can help.

“We learned from our WTC experience about what are protective factors – what are the social supports that buffer against depression, anxiety, and PTSD,” said Jonathan DePierro, PhD, clinical director of CSRPG and a psychologist at the Mount Sinai WTC Mental Health Program. “We also learned that people who have more prolonged exposures are at greater risk of developing mental health difficulties.”

The program itself reflects these lessons – and that’s why it’s open to all employees, not just medical professionals. Housekeepers, security staffers, even construction workers are also dealing with their lives being in danger. “That wasn’t in their job description,” said Dr. DePierro. “These people tend to have fewer social and economic resources, make less money and have fewer structural supports, which makes them even more vulnerable.”

Dr. Charney’s strategies on building resilience became a bible of sorts for the workshops, according to Dr. Katz, who authored the training curriculum. Sessions deal with how to build up reservoirs of realistic optimism, keep gratitude journals, find spiritual meaning in their lives, maintain physical wellness and create networks of social support. The workshops are meant to help participants create action plans, to reach out for support in their social networks, and keep the focus on the positives.

The goal is to give demoralized health care workers a renewed sense of competence. “The resilience workshop is a launching point to get people to show up and talk,” said Dr. Katz. “And if we do that, we’ve accomplished a lot just getting people in the door.”

The center will also have a research component to identify what works and what doesn’t so their platform can provide a template for other institutions; Dr. Marin said they’ve gotten inquiries about the program from major hospital systems in Michigan and California. They’ll also conduct longitudinal research to determine what lingering problems persist among healthcare workers over time.

Since the center opened its virtual doors, the curriculum has also been altered in response to feedback from the support staff, many of whom live in the community that surrounds Mount Sinai in northern Manhattan, which is largely lower-income Latinx and Black individuals. Workshop materials have been translated into Spanish and now feature people who reflect a more diverse set of experiences.

“Many of our employees and the population we serve identify as non-White so we’ve been doing outreach with a lot of the local unions,” said Dr. Marin. “Our next step is to take what we’re doing and work with local community organizations.”

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

A physician assistant participating in a virtual workshop began to cry, confessing that she felt overwhelmed with guilt because New Yorkers were hailing her as a frontline hero in the pandemic. That was when Joe Ciavarro knew he was in the right place.

rclassenlayouts/Getty Images

“She was saying all the things I could not verbalize because I, too, didn’t feel like I deserved all this praise and thousands of people cheering for us every evening when people were losing jobs, didn’t have money for food, and their loved ones were dying without family at their side,” says Mr. Ciavarro, a PA at Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York.

Mr. Ciavarro, who also manages 170 other PAs on two of Mount Sinai’s campuses in Manhattan, has been on the front lines since COVID-19 first hit; he lost a colleague and friend to suicide in September.

The mental anguish from his job prompted him to sign up for the resilience workshop offered by Mount Sinai’s Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth. The center – the first of its kind in North America – was launched in June to help health care workers like him cope with the intense psychological pressures they were facing. The weekly workshops became a safe place where Mr. Ciavarro and other staff members could share their darkest fears and learn ways to help them deal with their situation.

“It’s been grueling but we learned how to take care of ourselves so we can take care of our patients,” said Mr. Ciavarro. “This has become like a guided group therapy session on ways to manage and develop resilience. And I feel like my emotions are validated, knowing that others feel the same way.”
 

Caring for their own

Medical professionals treating patients with COVID-19 are in similar predicaments, and the psychological fallout is enormous: They’re exhausted by the seemingly never-ending patient load and staffing shortages, and haunted by fears for their own safety and that of their families. Studies in China, Canada, and Italy have revealed that a significant number of doctors and nurses in the early days of the pandemic experienced high levels of distress, depression, anxiety, nightmares, and insomnia.

Trauma experts at Mount Sinai believe that, globally, up to 40% of first responders and health care workers – tens of thousands of people – will suffer from PTSD after witnessing the deaths of so many patients who were alone, without family.

How to protect in midst of trauma

In formulating the program’s platform, Mount Sinai experts drew upon their extensive experience aiding 9/11 responders at the World Trade Center (WTC), as well as their system-wide wellness program that aids demoralized and burned-out physicians. While the reach of the pandemic is much broader than 9/11, experts see some commonalities in conditions that emerge after traumatic events, and they also discovered what can help.

“We learned from our WTC experience about what are protective factors – what are the social supports that buffer against depression, anxiety, and PTSD,” said Jonathan DePierro, PhD, clinical director of CSRPG and a psychologist at the Mount Sinai WTC Mental Health Program. “We also learned that people who have more prolonged exposures are at greater risk of developing mental health difficulties.”

The program itself reflects these lessons – and that’s why it’s open to all employees, not just medical professionals. Housekeepers, security staffers, even construction workers are also dealing with their lives being in danger. “That wasn’t in their job description,” said Dr. DePierro. “These people tend to have fewer social and economic resources, make less money and have fewer structural supports, which makes them even more vulnerable.”

Dr. Charney’s strategies on building resilience became a bible of sorts for the workshops, according to Dr. Katz, who authored the training curriculum. Sessions deal with how to build up reservoirs of realistic optimism, keep gratitude journals, find spiritual meaning in their lives, maintain physical wellness and create networks of social support. The workshops are meant to help participants create action plans, to reach out for support in their social networks, and keep the focus on the positives.

The goal is to give demoralized health care workers a renewed sense of competence. “The resilience workshop is a launching point to get people to show up and talk,” said Dr. Katz. “And if we do that, we’ve accomplished a lot just getting people in the door.”

The center will also have a research component to identify what works and what doesn’t so their platform can provide a template for other institutions; Dr. Marin said they’ve gotten inquiries about the program from major hospital systems in Michigan and California. They’ll also conduct longitudinal research to determine what lingering problems persist among healthcare workers over time.

Since the center opened its virtual doors, the curriculum has also been altered in response to feedback from the support staff, many of whom live in the community that surrounds Mount Sinai in northern Manhattan, which is largely lower-income Latinx and Black individuals. Workshop materials have been translated into Spanish and now feature people who reflect a more diverse set of experiences.

“Many of our employees and the population we serve identify as non-White so we’ve been doing outreach with a lot of the local unions,” said Dr. Marin. “Our next step is to take what we’re doing and work with local community organizations.”

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

Cannabis is ineffective at alleviating depression in pregnant women undergoing opioid agonist therapy (OAT), new research shows.

RyanKing999/iStock/Getty Images

A study of more than 120 pregnant women undergoing treatment of opioid use disorder (OUD) showed that those who used cannabis to alleviate their depressive symptoms while undergoing OAT continued to have high depression scores at the end of opioid treatment.

In addition, depression scores improved for those who abstained from cannabis use after their first positive screen. Interestingly, cannabis use did not affect patient retention in treatment for OUD, the investigators note.

“To our knowledge, this is the first time looking at the impact of cannabis on the specific population of pregnant women with opioid use disorder, who are very vulnerable to depression,” lead author Abigail Richison, MD, University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, Little Rock, said in an interview.

The findings were presented at the American Academy of Addiction Psychiatry (AAAP) 31st Annual Meeting, which was held online this year because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
 

A safer alternative?

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health show that perinatal cannabis use increased by 62% between 2002 and 2014. Many women try to ameliorate their depression symptoms by using cannabis in the mistaken belief that it will help their depression, the investigators noted.

In addition, many women consider cannabis safer during pregnancy than prescribed medications for improving mood, said Dr. Richison. She said that cannabis does not alleviate depression and may even worsen it.

Dr. Richison noted that at her center, which has a women’s health program that treats pregnant women with OUDs, she was seeing a lot of patients who reported using cannabis to improve their mood.

“However, it didn’t seem like it was really helping, so I started researching about cannabis and depression,” Dr. Richison said.

“I’ve always been interested in this population because they are very vulnerable to legal implications and can be accused of perinatal substance use. I think it is very important to screen for depression as well as cannabis use in this population,” she added.

To shed some light on the impact of cannabis use by pregnant patients with OUD, the investigators conducted a retrospective chart review of 121 pregnant women with OUD who attended outpatient OAT. All were prescribed buprenorphine.

At each visit, Beck Depression Inventory (BDI) scores were obtained and urine drug screens were administered. The primary outcome was BDI score. Other measures included retention, urinary drug screen results, and antidepressant use.

The women were divided into two groups. The first comprised cannabis users, defined as having more than one urine drug screen that was positive for cannabis (n = 35). The other group comprised nonusers, defined as having urine drug screens that were negative for cannabis (n = 86).

Cannabis users were a little younger (mean age, 27 years) than non–cannabis users (mean age, 29.5 years; P = .006). Most of the participants were White (80.2%). Roughly half were on Medicaid, and most of the other participants had private insurance; a small number of women had no insurance.

Results showed that cannabis users had significantly higher BDI scores than non–cannabis users (mean scores, 16 vs. 9.3; P < .001).

Cannabis use continued to be associated with elevated scores for depression when controlling for opioid misuse and antidepressant use. There were no significant differences in retention or lapse to opioid misuse between the two groups.
 

More evidence of risk

Commenting on the findings in an interview, Carla Marienfeld, MD, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, said there is a growing body of evidence about risks from cannabis use during pregnancy, “a time where we already know the endocannabinoid system is very active in the developing fetus.”

She noted that the current study’s design makes it hard to know whether marijuana use causes worse depression.

However, “it clearly is not associated with helping to improve mood the way people who are using it believe or hope for,” said Dr. Marienfeld, who was not part of the research.

“The risk for harm in terms of worse mood for the pregnant woman or risks for harm to the developing fetus are being better understood with many new studies,” she added.

Yet as more and more states legalize medical marijuana, cannabis use during pregnancy is only going to rise, experts fear.

Cornel Stanciu, MD, of Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Lebanon, N.H., who was asked for comment, noted that public endorsement for potential benefits of the marijuana plant is at an all-time high.

“To date, 33 states and the District of Columbia have responded by legalizing medical marijuana, with 10 states also having legalized recreational use of marijuana. The current practice is said to be ahead of science, as robust research has been hindered by strict regulations – and most epidemiological studies point toward harmful associations,” Dr. Stanciu said in an interview.

“Given the decreased perception of harm by the general public, women are certainly compelled to seek what they perceive as more natural self-management remedies,” he said.
 

A harmful habit

Dr. Stanciu cited a recent study conducted in Colorado in which researchers contacted cannabis dispensaries, identified themselves as being pregnant, and asked for guidance in managing pregnancy-related symptoms.

Almost 70% of dispensaries recommended products to treat symptoms, particularly in the vulnerable first trimester; 36% of them also provided reassurance of the safety profile. Very few encouraged a discussion with the physician.

“Consumption of cannabis during pregnancy results in cannabinoid placental crossing and accumulation in the fetal brain, as well as other organs, where it interferes with neurodevelopment and the endocannabinoid system,” he said.

In addition, retrospective studies have shown an association between prenatal cannabis ingestion and anemia in the mothers, low birth weight, greater risk for preterm and stillbirths, and increased need for neonatal ICU admissions.

“Children born to mothers who used cannabis during pregnancy have higher rates of impulsivity, delinquency, learning and memory impairment, as well as executive function deficits. There is also an increased association with proneness to psychosis during middle childhood,” Dr. Stanciu said.

When used during pregnancy, cannabis has been associated with increased anxiety in mothers, as well as increased risk for depressive disorders, incidence of suicidal ideations and behavior, and symptoms of mania and psychosis among those with bipolar and schizophrenia spectrum conditions. Cannabis has also been linked to coingestion of other substances and with alcohol use.

“So cannabis can pose harm, especially when used by those with affective disorders,” Dr. Stanciu said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Drug Abuse. Dr. Richison, Dr. Marienfeld, and Dr. Stanciu have reported no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com

Cannabis is ineffective at alleviating depression in pregnant women undergoing opioid agonist therapy (OAT), new research shows.

RyanKing999/iStock/Getty Images

A study of more than 120 pregnant women undergoing treatment of opioid use disorder (OUD) showed that those who used cannabis to alleviate their depressive symptoms while undergoing OAT continued to have high depression scores at the end of opioid treatment.

In addition, depression scores improved for those who abstained from cannabis use after their first positive screen. Interestingly, cannabis use did not affect patient retention in treatment for OUD, the investigators note.

“To our knowledge, this is the first time looking at the impact of cannabis on the specific population of pregnant women with opioid use disorder, who are very vulnerable to depression,” lead author Abigail Richison, MD, University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, Little Rock, said in an interview.

The findings were presented at the American Academy of Addiction Psychiatry (AAAP) 31st Annual Meeting, which was held online this year because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
 

A safer alternative?

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health show that perinatal cannabis use increased by 62% between 2002 and 2014. Many women try to ameliorate their depression symptoms by using cannabis in the mistaken belief that it will help their depression, the investigators noted.

In addition, many women consider cannabis safer during pregnancy than prescribed medications for improving mood, said Dr. Richison. She said that cannabis does not alleviate depression and may even worsen it.

Dr. Richison noted that at her center, which has a women’s health program that treats pregnant women with OUDs, she was seeing a lot of patients who reported using cannabis to improve their mood.

“However, it didn’t seem like it was really helping, so I started researching about cannabis and depression,” Dr. Richison said.

“I’ve always been interested in this population because they are very vulnerable to legal implications and can be accused of perinatal substance use. I think it is very important to screen for depression as well as cannabis use in this population,” she added.

To shed some light on the impact of cannabis use by pregnant patients with OUD, the investigators conducted a retrospective chart review of 121 pregnant women with OUD who attended outpatient OAT. All were prescribed buprenorphine.

At each visit, Beck Depression Inventory (BDI) scores were obtained and urine drug screens were administered. The primary outcome was BDI score. Other measures included retention, urinary drug screen results, and antidepressant use.

The women were divided into two groups. The first comprised cannabis users, defined as having more than one urine drug screen that was positive for cannabis (n = 35). The other group comprised nonusers, defined as having urine drug screens that were negative for cannabis (n = 86).

Cannabis users were a little younger (mean age, 27 years) than non–cannabis users (mean age, 29.5 years; P = .006). Most of the participants were White (80.2%). Roughly half were on Medicaid, and most of the other participants had private insurance; a small number of women had no insurance.

Results showed that cannabis users had significantly higher BDI scores than non–cannabis users (mean scores, 16 vs. 9.3; P < .001).

Cannabis use continued to be associated with elevated scores for depression when controlling for opioid misuse and antidepressant use. There were no significant differences in retention or lapse to opioid misuse between the two groups.
 

More evidence of risk

Commenting on the findings in an interview, Carla Marienfeld, MD, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, said there is a growing body of evidence about risks from cannabis use during pregnancy, “a time where we already know the endocannabinoid system is very active in the developing fetus.”

She noted that the current study’s design makes it hard to know whether marijuana use causes worse depression.

However, “it clearly is not associated with helping to improve mood the way people who are using it believe or hope for,” said Dr. Marienfeld, who was not part of the research.

“The risk for harm in terms of worse mood for the pregnant woman or risks for harm to the developing fetus are being better understood with many new studies,” she added.

Yet as more and more states legalize medical marijuana, cannabis use during pregnancy is only going to rise, experts fear.

Cornel Stanciu, MD, of Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Lebanon, N.H., who was asked for comment, noted that public endorsement for potential benefits of the marijuana plant is at an all-time high.

“To date, 33 states and the District of Columbia have responded by legalizing medical marijuana, with 10 states also having legalized recreational use of marijuana. The current practice is said to be ahead of science, as robust research has been hindered by strict regulations – and most epidemiological studies point toward harmful associations,” Dr. Stanciu said in an interview.

“Given the decreased perception of harm by the general public, women are certainly compelled to seek what they perceive as more natural self-management remedies,” he said.
 

A harmful habit

Dr. Stanciu cited a recent study conducted in Colorado in which researchers contacted cannabis dispensaries, identified themselves as being pregnant, and asked for guidance in managing pregnancy-related symptoms.

Almost 70% of dispensaries recommended products to treat symptoms, particularly in the vulnerable first trimester; 36% of them also provided reassurance of the safety profile. Very few encouraged a discussion with the physician.

“Consumption of cannabis during pregnancy results in cannabinoid placental crossing and accumulation in the fetal brain, as well as other organs, where it interferes with neurodevelopment and the endocannabinoid system,” he said.

In addition, retrospective studies have shown an association between prenatal cannabis ingestion and anemia in the mothers, low birth weight, greater risk for preterm and stillbirths, and increased need for neonatal ICU admissions.

“Children born to mothers who used cannabis during pregnancy have higher rates of impulsivity, delinquency, learning and memory impairment, as well as executive function deficits. There is also an increased association with proneness to psychosis during middle childhood,” Dr. Stanciu said.

When used during pregnancy, cannabis has been associated with increased anxiety in mothers, as well as increased risk for depressive disorders, incidence of suicidal ideations and behavior, and symptoms of mania and psychosis among those with bipolar and schizophrenia spectrum conditions. Cannabis has also been linked to coingestion of other substances and with alcohol use.

“So cannabis can pose harm, especially when used by those with affective disorders,” Dr. Stanciu said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Drug Abuse. Dr. Richison, Dr. Marienfeld, and Dr. Stanciu have reported no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com

Cannabis is ineffective at alleviating depression in pregnant women undergoing opioid agonist therapy (OAT), new research shows.

RyanKing999/iStock/Getty Images

A study of more than 120 pregnant women undergoing treatment of opioid use disorder (OUD) showed that those who used cannabis to alleviate their depressive symptoms while undergoing OAT continued to have high depression scores at the end of opioid treatment.

In addition, depression scores improved for those who abstained from cannabis use after their first positive screen. Interestingly, cannabis use did not affect patient retention in treatment for OUD, the investigators note.

“To our knowledge, this is the first time looking at the impact of cannabis on the specific population of pregnant women with opioid use disorder, who are very vulnerable to depression,” lead author Abigail Richison, MD, University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, Little Rock, said in an interview.

The findings were presented at the American Academy of Addiction Psychiatry (AAAP) 31st Annual Meeting, which was held online this year because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
 

A safer alternative?

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health show that perinatal cannabis use increased by 62% between 2002 and 2014. Many women try to ameliorate their depression symptoms by using cannabis in the mistaken belief that it will help their depression, the investigators noted.

In addition, many women consider cannabis safer during pregnancy than prescribed medications for improving mood, said Dr. Richison. She said that cannabis does not alleviate depression and may even worsen it.

Dr. Richison noted that at her center, which has a women’s health program that treats pregnant women with OUDs, she was seeing a lot of patients who reported using cannabis to improve their mood.

“However, it didn’t seem like it was really helping, so I started researching about cannabis and depression,” Dr. Richison said.

“I’ve always been interested in this population because they are very vulnerable to legal implications and can be accused of perinatal substance use. I think it is very important to screen for depression as well as cannabis use in this population,” she added.

To shed some light on the impact of cannabis use by pregnant patients with OUD, the investigators conducted a retrospective chart review of 121 pregnant women with OUD who attended outpatient OAT. All were prescribed buprenorphine.

At each visit, Beck Depression Inventory (BDI) scores were obtained and urine drug screens were administered. The primary outcome was BDI score. Other measures included retention, urinary drug screen results, and antidepressant use.

The women were divided into two groups. The first comprised cannabis users, defined as having more than one urine drug screen that was positive for cannabis (n = 35). The other group comprised nonusers, defined as having urine drug screens that were negative for cannabis (n = 86).

Cannabis users were a little younger (mean age, 27 years) than non–cannabis users (mean age, 29.5 years; P = .006). Most of the participants were White (80.2%). Roughly half were on Medicaid, and most of the other participants had private insurance; a small number of women had no insurance.

Results showed that cannabis users had significantly higher BDI scores than non–cannabis users (mean scores, 16 vs. 9.3; P < .001).

Cannabis use continued to be associated with elevated scores for depression when controlling for opioid misuse and antidepressant use. There were no significant differences in retention or lapse to opioid misuse between the two groups.
 

More evidence of risk

Commenting on the findings in an interview, Carla Marienfeld, MD, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, said there is a growing body of evidence about risks from cannabis use during pregnancy, “a time where we already know the endocannabinoid system is very active in the developing fetus.”

She noted that the current study’s design makes it hard to know whether marijuana use causes worse depression.

However, “it clearly is not associated with helping to improve mood the way people who are using it believe or hope for,” said Dr. Marienfeld, who was not part of the research.

“The risk for harm in terms of worse mood for the pregnant woman or risks for harm to the developing fetus are being better understood with many new studies,” she added.

Yet as more and more states legalize medical marijuana, cannabis use during pregnancy is only going to rise, experts fear.

Cornel Stanciu, MD, of Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Lebanon, N.H., who was asked for comment, noted that public endorsement for potential benefits of the marijuana plant is at an all-time high.

“To date, 33 states and the District of Columbia have responded by legalizing medical marijuana, with 10 states also having legalized recreational use of marijuana. The current practice is said to be ahead of science, as robust research has been hindered by strict regulations – and most epidemiological studies point toward harmful associations,” Dr. Stanciu said in an interview.

“Given the decreased perception of harm by the general public, women are certainly compelled to seek what they perceive as more natural self-management remedies,” he said.
 

A harmful habit

Dr. Stanciu cited a recent study conducted in Colorado in which researchers contacted cannabis dispensaries, identified themselves as being pregnant, and asked for guidance in managing pregnancy-related symptoms.

Almost 70% of dispensaries recommended products to treat symptoms, particularly in the vulnerable first trimester; 36% of them also provided reassurance of the safety profile. Very few encouraged a discussion with the physician.

“Consumption of cannabis during pregnancy results in cannabinoid placental crossing and accumulation in the fetal brain, as well as other organs, where it interferes with neurodevelopment and the endocannabinoid system,” he said.

In addition, retrospective studies have shown an association between prenatal cannabis ingestion and anemia in the mothers, low birth weight, greater risk for preterm and stillbirths, and increased need for neonatal ICU admissions.

“Children born to mothers who used cannabis during pregnancy have higher rates of impulsivity, delinquency, learning and memory impairment, as well as executive function deficits. There is also an increased association with proneness to psychosis during middle childhood,” Dr. Stanciu said.

When used during pregnancy, cannabis has been associated with increased anxiety in mothers, as well as increased risk for depressive disorders, incidence of suicidal ideations and behavior, and symptoms of mania and psychosis among those with bipolar and schizophrenia spectrum conditions. Cannabis has also been linked to coingestion of other substances and with alcohol use.

“So cannabis can pose harm, especially when used by those with affective disorders,” Dr. Stanciu said.

The study was funded by the National Institute on Drug Abuse. Dr. Richison, Dr. Marienfeld, and Dr. Stanciu have reported no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com

Fourteen mental health organizations have formed a coalition to press federal and state officials to tackle the ongoing and growing mental health crisis that is accompanying the COVID-19 pandemic.

The coalition is offering a road map, A Unified Vision for Transforming Mental Health and Substance Abuse Care, which spells out “immediate and long-term changes that will lead to a mental health care system capable of saving our nation,” they said in a statement.

The group includes CEOs from the American Psychiatric Association, the American Psychological Association, the Massachusetts Association for Mental Health, Meadows Mental Health Policy Institute, Mental Health America, the National Association for Behavioral Healthcare, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the National Council for Behavioral Health, One Mind, Peg’s Foundation, the Steinberg Institute, The Kennedy Forum, the Treatment Advocacy Center, and the Well Being Trust.

They have been meeting in weekly sessions since the beginning of the pandemic. The groups have come together in the spirit of previous efforts to address major health crises, including the 1970s war on cancer and the campaign to curtail the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, they report.

The coalition reported that since the pandemic began the prevalence of depression symptoms has jumped threefold, overdose deaths have increased in 40 states, and 25% of young adults have had suicidal ideation.

“It requires immediate action by the new administration, as well as state and local governments in all 50 states, and an acknowledged, consistent commitment to fix what’s broken in our system of care,” Daniel H. Gillison Jr, CEO of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, said in a statement.
 

SAMHSA chief ‘grateful’

Elinore McCance-Katz, MD, PhD, who is the assistant secretary for mental health and substance use and leads the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, applauded the coalition.

“I am very grateful that these organizations are stepping up and putting out a report like this,” Dr. McCance-Katz told this news organization. “I hope that they will continue this kind of advocacy and leadership on these issues going forward,” she said, adding that the need for mental health care and substance use disorders will be much greater going forward because of the pandemic.
 

Seven policy areas

The group’s 17-page strategic plan emphasizes interventions and methods that have already been tried and tested, focusing on seven policy areas:

• Early identification and prevention, especially for families and young people, by, for instance, bringing telehealth into schools and community centers.
• Rapid deployment of emergency crisis response and  prevention, including speeding up the implementation of the new 988 number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
• Leveling inequities in access to care by addressing social and political constructs and historical systemic injustices such as racism.
• Integrating physical and mental health care and substance use services to ensure “whole-person” well-being.
• Achieving parity in payment by health plans for mental health and substance-use coverage.
• Assuring evidence-based standards of treatments and care.
• Increasing the number and diversity of the mental health care workforce, peer support, and community-based programs.

Dr. McCance-Katz said the United States needs more resources, especially to increase the workforce, which has already been insufficient and will be even more so in the near future as the effects of the pandemic continue to ripple out.

SAMHSA received $425 million in the first COVID-19 relief package signed into law in March – the CARES Act. The money was distributed to states and used for direct care for people with serious mental illness and substance-use disorders who could not otherwise get care because of virus-related restrictions, and for boosting support for mental health support lines, said Dr. McCance-Katz.

A senior SAMHSA spokesperson said the agency is “hopeful that we will see additional resources in the upcoming stimulus for mental health and substance abuse” that Congress is still working on.

“We need bold steps from our government and the business community alike,” former Rep. Patrick J. Kennedy, founder of The Kennedy Forum, said in the statement from the new coalition. “We encourage all state governments to engage with mental health leaders, bring them into pandemic-related responses, and actively facilitate their communication with communities across the country,” said Mr. Kennedy, who is a part of the new coalition.

Mr. Kennedy is also cochair of the Action Alliance’s Mental Health and Suicide Prevention National Response to COVID-19, which unveiled its own six-priority Action Plan earlier in December.

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

Fourteen mental health organizations have formed a coalition to press federal and state officials to tackle the ongoing and growing mental health crisis that is accompanying the COVID-19 pandemic.

The coalition is offering a road map, A Unified Vision for Transforming Mental Health and Substance Abuse Care, which spells out “immediate and long-term changes that will lead to a mental health care system capable of saving our nation,” they said in a statement.

The group includes CEOs from the American Psychiatric Association, the American Psychological Association, the Massachusetts Association for Mental Health, Meadows Mental Health Policy Institute, Mental Health America, the National Association for Behavioral Healthcare, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the National Council for Behavioral Health, One Mind, Peg’s Foundation, the Steinberg Institute, The Kennedy Forum, the Treatment Advocacy Center, and the Well Being Trust.

They have been meeting in weekly sessions since the beginning of the pandemic. The groups have come together in the spirit of previous efforts to address major health crises, including the 1970s war on cancer and the campaign to curtail the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, they report.

The coalition reported that since the pandemic began the prevalence of depression symptoms has jumped threefold, overdose deaths have increased in 40 states, and 25% of young adults have had suicidal ideation.

“It requires immediate action by the new administration, as well as state and local governments in all 50 states, and an acknowledged, consistent commitment to fix what’s broken in our system of care,” Daniel H. Gillison Jr, CEO of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, said in a statement.
 

SAMHSA chief ‘grateful’

Elinore McCance-Katz, MD, PhD, who is the assistant secretary for mental health and substance use and leads the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, applauded the coalition.

“I am very grateful that these organizations are stepping up and putting out a report like this,” Dr. McCance-Katz told this news organization. “I hope that they will continue this kind of advocacy and leadership on these issues going forward,” she said, adding that the need for mental health care and substance use disorders will be much greater going forward because of the pandemic.
 

Seven policy areas

The group’s 17-page strategic plan emphasizes interventions and methods that have already been tried and tested, focusing on seven policy areas:

• Early identification and prevention, especially for families and young people, by, for instance, bringing telehealth into schools and community centers.
• Rapid deployment of emergency crisis response and  prevention, including speeding up the implementation of the new 988 number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
• Leveling inequities in access to care by addressing social and political constructs and historical systemic injustices such as racism.
• Integrating physical and mental health care and substance use services to ensure “whole-person” well-being.
• Achieving parity in payment by health plans for mental health and substance-use coverage.
• Assuring evidence-based standards of treatments and care.
• Increasing the number and diversity of the mental health care workforce, peer support, and community-based programs.

Dr. McCance-Katz said the United States needs more resources, especially to increase the workforce, which has already been insufficient and will be even more so in the near future as the effects of the pandemic continue to ripple out.

SAMHSA received $425 million in the first COVID-19 relief package signed into law in March – the CARES Act. The money was distributed to states and used for direct care for people with serious mental illness and substance-use disorders who could not otherwise get care because of virus-related restrictions, and for boosting support for mental health support lines, said Dr. McCance-Katz.

A senior SAMHSA spokesperson said the agency is “hopeful that we will see additional resources in the upcoming stimulus for mental health and substance abuse” that Congress is still working on.

“We need bold steps from our government and the business community alike,” former Rep. Patrick J. Kennedy, founder of The Kennedy Forum, said in the statement from the new coalition. “We encourage all state governments to engage with mental health leaders, bring them into pandemic-related responses, and actively facilitate their communication with communities across the country,” said Mr. Kennedy, who is a part of the new coalition.

Mr. Kennedy is also cochair of the Action Alliance’s Mental Health and Suicide Prevention National Response to COVID-19, which unveiled its own six-priority Action Plan earlier in December.

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

Fourteen mental health organizations have formed a coalition to press federal and state officials to tackle the ongoing and growing mental health crisis that is accompanying the COVID-19 pandemic.

The coalition is offering a road map, A Unified Vision for Transforming Mental Health and Substance Abuse Care, which spells out “immediate and long-term changes that will lead to a mental health care system capable of saving our nation,” they said in a statement.

The group includes CEOs from the American Psychiatric Association, the American Psychological Association, the Massachusetts Association for Mental Health, Meadows Mental Health Policy Institute, Mental Health America, the National Association for Behavioral Healthcare, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, the National Council for Behavioral Health, One Mind, Peg’s Foundation, the Steinberg Institute, The Kennedy Forum, the Treatment Advocacy Center, and the Well Being Trust.

They have been meeting in weekly sessions since the beginning of the pandemic. The groups have come together in the spirit of previous efforts to address major health crises, including the 1970s war on cancer and the campaign to curtail the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, they report.

The coalition reported that since the pandemic began the prevalence of depression symptoms has jumped threefold, overdose deaths have increased in 40 states, and 25% of young adults have had suicidal ideation.

“It requires immediate action by the new administration, as well as state and local governments in all 50 states, and an acknowledged, consistent commitment to fix what’s broken in our system of care,” Daniel H. Gillison Jr, CEO of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, said in a statement.
 

SAMHSA chief ‘grateful’

Elinore McCance-Katz, MD, PhD, who is the assistant secretary for mental health and substance use and leads the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, applauded the coalition.

“I am very grateful that these organizations are stepping up and putting out a report like this,” Dr. McCance-Katz told this news organization. “I hope that they will continue this kind of advocacy and leadership on these issues going forward,” she said, adding that the need for mental health care and substance use disorders will be much greater going forward because of the pandemic.
 

Seven policy areas

The group’s 17-page strategic plan emphasizes interventions and methods that have already been tried and tested, focusing on seven policy areas:

• Early identification and prevention, especially for families and young people, by, for instance, bringing telehealth into schools and community centers.
• Rapid deployment of emergency crisis response and  prevention, including speeding up the implementation of the new 988 number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
• Leveling inequities in access to care by addressing social and political constructs and historical systemic injustices such as racism.
• Integrating physical and mental health care and substance use services to ensure “whole-person” well-being.
• Achieving parity in payment by health plans for mental health and substance-use coverage.
• Assuring evidence-based standards of treatments and care.
• Increasing the number and diversity of the mental health care workforce, peer support, and community-based programs.

Dr. McCance-Katz said the United States needs more resources, especially to increase the workforce, which has already been insufficient and will be even more so in the near future as the effects of the pandemic continue to ripple out.

SAMHSA received $425 million in the first COVID-19 relief package signed into law in March – the CARES Act. The money was distributed to states and used for direct care for people with serious mental illness and substance-use disorders who could not otherwise get care because of virus-related restrictions, and for boosting support for mental health support lines, said Dr. McCance-Katz.

A senior SAMHSA spokesperson said the agency is “hopeful that we will see additional resources in the upcoming stimulus for mental health and substance abuse” that Congress is still working on.

“We need bold steps from our government and the business community alike,” former Rep. Patrick J. Kennedy, founder of The Kennedy Forum, said in the statement from the new coalition. “We encourage all state governments to engage with mental health leaders, bring them into pandemic-related responses, and actively facilitate their communication with communities across the country,” said Mr. Kennedy, who is a part of the new coalition.

Mr. Kennedy is also cochair of the Action Alliance’s Mental Health and Suicide Prevention National Response to COVID-19, which unveiled its own six-priority Action Plan earlier in December.

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