I was a resident, young and naive, when I bumped into my neighbor in the hospital hallway as he walked out of a psychiatrist’s office.

“Why are you here?” I asked, thinking that my neighbor, a theology professor, had some professional reason to be meeting with a psychiatrist, perhaps some type of community project. As the question escaped from my lips, however, I had an instant sense of regret and made a “note to self” in bold, all capital letters with a few exclamation points: Don’t ever ask friends or neighbors why they are visiting a psychiatrist. 

Fast-forward a number of decades, and I received an email from that neighbor. Charles Marsh, is now a professor of religious studies at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville, director of the Lived Theology Project, and author of several books. He sent me a link to an article he’d written about his treatment for an anxiety disorder and let me know he was working on a book on the topic. I later received the galleys for his manuscript, Evangelical Anxiety: A Memoir, which was released last month by HarperOne.

Professor Marsh opens his story as he’s sitting with his family in church, listening to his pastor’s sermon. It is a quiet April day, and as they are throughout this memoir, his descriptions are so vivid that the reader is sitting next to him in his familiar pew, there in that church on that Sunday, seeing what he sees, smelling what he smells, and feeling what he feels. The pastor confers a wish on his congregants: He’d like them all to have a nervous breakdown in their youth. He goes on to say that if Martin Luther had lived in the days of Prozac, his inner torment would have been quelled, and there would have been no Protestant reformation. Professor Marsh then treats us to the first of many humorous moments – he rushes home and swallows a tablet of Ativan.

Professor Marsh focuses on a single dividing point for his life, a day in the fall of 1981. He was resting on his bed in his dorm room at Harvard Divinity School at the ripe age of 23 years, 6 months, and 3 days (but who’s counting), when all of who he was changed. He described what he went through that night:

It was then that a high pandemonium ripped away everything protecting me from the world outside. I was no longer a person alone in his room. In an instant, I could hear all things inside my body in their deepest repercussions. My heart and its soft aortic murmur, my breath’s every exhalation and inhalation, the downward silences, the laborious intake – would this one be the last? How much noise the body makes when amped up on fear! I could hear the hiss of molecules colliding. And outside in the yellow night, the compressors harrumphing atop the nearby physics building, the sound of car engines and slamming doors. All these things I heard as tormenting assault, a soundscape I could not mute. I’d become a thought thinking about thinking itself and nothing else, metaphysics’ ancient curse. A cogitation cycling through every autonomous body function, placing on each a question mark like flowers for the dead.

This moment in time – this “breakdown,” as Professor Marsh repeatedly refers to it – bifurcated his life. He went from being a person who lived “disguised to myself as unaghast and free” to someone who could no longer find escape in his reading, who struggled in his own skin and his own mind, and who, for lack of a better description, was tortured. The “breakdown” passed, and Professor Marsh diagnosed himself with generalized anxiety disorder.

That night, he did not go to an emergency department nor did he seek help from services that were available to Harvard students. There was no psychiatrist, no therapy, no medication. It was, for him, with his fundamentalist Christian background, a religious event of sorts.

I counted it all joy if I should suffer. My sorrow, my soul’s sin-sickness, was not unintelligible – it was a kind of blessing, something that might draw me, like a medieval saint, to the suffering of my Lord, something that would testify wordlessly to my heroic exertion to attain purity. And, at least during those late days of autumn 1981, the heavens above and the earth below, spirit and flesh, felt miraculously aligned. Though suffering, this was the life I had craved.

Charles Marsh grew up as a Baptist pastor’s son in the Deep South during a time when the civil rights movement came to a head, and life was marked by fear and change. The memoir is not simply about one man’s struggle with an anxiety disorder, but a beautifully written account of life as an evangelical Christian during a tumultuous time of racial tensions and horrible violence. He details his life as a lonely only child in a God-fearing world cast in dark shadows, one where he struggled to belong and called out to his mother in the nights. Inside this world, Professor Marsh searched for his own religious identity, with the pride of being a high school “Jesus freak,” running alongside his repressed and frustrated sexual longings.

It was a world of good and bad, of heaven and hell, only the two became so confused as he talked about his existence full of fears: The windows were barred; violence and fear were central in his Alabama hometown, “the epicenter of white terrorism,” and then later when his family moved to Mississippi. He feared the barking dogs that guarded the houses, the bullies who tormented him, and the bullying in which, he too, joined in. He feared the switch-wielding adults – his mother, his principals, his coaches, and his youth pastor, all set on “breaking the will of the child,” a term he explains to be a Christian concept in which the child’s own will is broken so that he will be submissive to his parents and to God. 

Professor Marsh wanted so much to be good. And we’re not sure he even knew what that was as he battled his desire to conform and belong, and his ever-present sexual impulses. Even as an adult, he was certain his mother would know if he had premarital sex and he would have to kill himself. Sex outside of marriage was the one unpardonable sin.

He suffered in silence and shame. It was not until a few years later that he entered psychotherapy as a doctoral student. When he moved to Baltimore, he again looked for a therapist and eventually found himself with a psychiatrist who was training to be a psychoanalyst in the hospital where I was a resident. This psychoanalysis proved to be transformative and healing, but first, Professor Marsh needed to reconcile his treatment with his religious beliefs, as therapy and fundamental religion travel different roads.

Analysis and faith traverse similar terrain – they understand how language and narrative heal. They may see each other as strangers or competitors, but they need not. Like prayer, the analytic dialogue slows down to ponder, to meander, to piece together, to redeem; both inspire the mind toward hope under the influence of an empathetic listener. Neither needs the other to effectuate its truths, but they follow parallel tracks into the mysteries of being human, where all truth is God’s truth. It’s more than fine that they neither merge nor collide.

He goes on to describe how powerful the process was for him and his healing. 

Analysis is the space where one feels – where I felt in an embodied way, in the unhurried hours over months and years – a trust in the beautiful interplay between the center and the extremes. My body and mind would not be raised in resurrected splendor in the course of the treatment. I wish to emphasize the point. It was tempting to think that it would, that I would undergo a miraculous transformation. If not resurrected splendor, then surely I would take on the “new man.” Instead, I received the gift of mortal life: the freedom to be imperfect, to have fears and face them, to accept brokenness, to let go of the will to control all outcomes.

Evangelical Anxiety is a beautifully written book, and a look into two worlds that can feel so secretive to the outsider. Professor Marsh’s use of language is extraordinary; he has a gift for metaphors and descriptions, and he carries the reader alongside him on a splendid journey. It has to be said, however, that he assumes a lot: He is a sophisticated scholar who mentions religious leaders, philosophers, historical characters, and the occasional rock song, with no patience for those who don’t follow his quick transitions and impressive vocabulary; I could have read this book with a dictionary beside me (but I didn’t).

It’s an illuminating journey, often sad and disturbing, sometimes funny and endearing, and ultimately uplifting. In our skeptical world where psychiatrists are so are often undone, it is refreshing to read a memoir where the psychiatrist is the good guy and the patient emerges healed and whole.
 

Dr. Miller, is a coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

I was a resident, young and naive, when I bumped into my neighbor in the hospital hallway as he walked out of a psychiatrist’s office.

“Why are you here?” I asked, thinking that my neighbor, a theology professor, had some professional reason to be meeting with a psychiatrist, perhaps some type of community project. As the question escaped from my lips, however, I had an instant sense of regret and made a “note to self” in bold, all capital letters with a few exclamation points: Don’t ever ask friends or neighbors why they are visiting a psychiatrist. 

Fast-forward a number of decades, and I received an email from that neighbor. Charles Marsh, is now a professor of religious studies at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville, director of the Lived Theology Project, and author of several books. He sent me a link to an article he’d written about his treatment for an anxiety disorder and let me know he was working on a book on the topic. I later received the galleys for his manuscript, Evangelical Anxiety: A Memoir, which was released last month by HarperOne.

Professor Marsh opens his story as he’s sitting with his family in church, listening to his pastor’s sermon. It is a quiet April day, and as they are throughout this memoir, his descriptions are so vivid that the reader is sitting next to him in his familiar pew, there in that church on that Sunday, seeing what he sees, smelling what he smells, and feeling what he feels. The pastor confers a wish on his congregants: He’d like them all to have a nervous breakdown in their youth. He goes on to say that if Martin Luther had lived in the days of Prozac, his inner torment would have been quelled, and there would have been no Protestant reformation. Professor Marsh then treats us to the first of many humorous moments – he rushes home and swallows a tablet of Ativan.

Professor Marsh focuses on a single dividing point for his life, a day in the fall of 1981. He was resting on his bed in his dorm room at Harvard Divinity School at the ripe age of 23 years, 6 months, and 3 days (but who’s counting), when all of who he was changed. He described what he went through that night:

It was then that a high pandemonium ripped away everything protecting me from the world outside. I was no longer a person alone in his room. In an instant, I could hear all things inside my body in their deepest repercussions. My heart and its soft aortic murmur, my breath’s every exhalation and inhalation, the downward silences, the laborious intake – would this one be the last? How much noise the body makes when amped up on fear! I could hear the hiss of molecules colliding. And outside in the yellow night, the compressors harrumphing atop the nearby physics building, the sound of car engines and slamming doors. All these things I heard as tormenting assault, a soundscape I could not mute. I’d become a thought thinking about thinking itself and nothing else, metaphysics’ ancient curse. A cogitation cycling through every autonomous body function, placing on each a question mark like flowers for the dead.

This moment in time – this “breakdown,” as Professor Marsh repeatedly refers to it – bifurcated his life. He went from being a person who lived “disguised to myself as unaghast and free” to someone who could no longer find escape in his reading, who struggled in his own skin and his own mind, and who, for lack of a better description, was tortured. The “breakdown” passed, and Professor Marsh diagnosed himself with generalized anxiety disorder.

That night, he did not go to an emergency department nor did he seek help from services that were available to Harvard students. There was no psychiatrist, no therapy, no medication. It was, for him, with his fundamentalist Christian background, a religious event of sorts.

I counted it all joy if I should suffer. My sorrow, my soul’s sin-sickness, was not unintelligible – it was a kind of blessing, something that might draw me, like a medieval saint, to the suffering of my Lord, something that would testify wordlessly to my heroic exertion to attain purity. And, at least during those late days of autumn 1981, the heavens above and the earth below, spirit and flesh, felt miraculously aligned. Though suffering, this was the life I had craved.

Charles Marsh grew up as a Baptist pastor’s son in the Deep South during a time when the civil rights movement came to a head, and life was marked by fear and change. The memoir is not simply about one man’s struggle with an anxiety disorder, but a beautifully written account of life as an evangelical Christian during a tumultuous time of racial tensions and horrible violence. He details his life as a lonely only child in a God-fearing world cast in dark shadows, one where he struggled to belong and called out to his mother in the nights. Inside this world, Professor Marsh searched for his own religious identity, with the pride of being a high school “Jesus freak,” running alongside his repressed and frustrated sexual longings.

It was a world of good and bad, of heaven and hell, only the two became so confused as he talked about his existence full of fears: The windows were barred; violence and fear were central in his Alabama hometown, “the epicenter of white terrorism,” and then later when his family moved to Mississippi. He feared the barking dogs that guarded the houses, the bullies who tormented him, and the bullying in which, he too, joined in. He feared the switch-wielding adults – his mother, his principals, his coaches, and his youth pastor, all set on “breaking the will of the child,” a term he explains to be a Christian concept in which the child’s own will is broken so that he will be submissive to his parents and to God. 

Professor Marsh wanted so much to be good. And we’re not sure he even knew what that was as he battled his desire to conform and belong, and his ever-present sexual impulses. Even as an adult, he was certain his mother would know if he had premarital sex and he would have to kill himself. Sex outside of marriage was the one unpardonable sin.

He suffered in silence and shame. It was not until a few years later that he entered psychotherapy as a doctoral student. When he moved to Baltimore, he again looked for a therapist and eventually found himself with a psychiatrist who was training to be a psychoanalyst in the hospital where I was a resident. This psychoanalysis proved to be transformative and healing, but first, Professor Marsh needed to reconcile his treatment with his religious beliefs, as therapy and fundamental religion travel different roads.

Analysis and faith traverse similar terrain – they understand how language and narrative heal. They may see each other as strangers or competitors, but they need not. Like prayer, the analytic dialogue slows down to ponder, to meander, to piece together, to redeem; both inspire the mind toward hope under the influence of an empathetic listener. Neither needs the other to effectuate its truths, but they follow parallel tracks into the mysteries of being human, where all truth is God’s truth. It’s more than fine that they neither merge nor collide.

He goes on to describe how powerful the process was for him and his healing. 

Analysis is the space where one feels – where I felt in an embodied way, in the unhurried hours over months and years – a trust in the beautiful interplay between the center and the extremes. My body and mind would not be raised in resurrected splendor in the course of the treatment. I wish to emphasize the point. It was tempting to think that it would, that I would undergo a miraculous transformation. If not resurrected splendor, then surely I would take on the “new man.” Instead, I received the gift of mortal life: the freedom to be imperfect, to have fears and face them, to accept brokenness, to let go of the will to control all outcomes.

Evangelical Anxiety is a beautifully written book, and a look into two worlds that can feel so secretive to the outsider. Professor Marsh’s use of language is extraordinary; he has a gift for metaphors and descriptions, and he carries the reader alongside him on a splendid journey. It has to be said, however, that he assumes a lot: He is a sophisticated scholar who mentions religious leaders, philosophers, historical characters, and the occasional rock song, with no patience for those who don’t follow his quick transitions and impressive vocabulary; I could have read this book with a dictionary beside me (but I didn’t).

It’s an illuminating journey, often sad and disturbing, sometimes funny and endearing, and ultimately uplifting. In our skeptical world where psychiatrists are so are often undone, it is refreshing to read a memoir where the psychiatrist is the good guy and the patient emerges healed and whole.
 

Dr. Miller, is a coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

I was a resident, young and naive, when I bumped into my neighbor in the hospital hallway as he walked out of a psychiatrist’s office.

“Why are you here?” I asked, thinking that my neighbor, a theology professor, had some professional reason to be meeting with a psychiatrist, perhaps some type of community project. As the question escaped from my lips, however, I had an instant sense of regret and made a “note to self” in bold, all capital letters with a few exclamation points: Don’t ever ask friends or neighbors why they are visiting a psychiatrist. 

Fast-forward a number of decades, and I received an email from that neighbor. Charles Marsh, is now a professor of religious studies at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville, director of the Lived Theology Project, and author of several books. He sent me a link to an article he’d written about his treatment for an anxiety disorder and let me know he was working on a book on the topic. I later received the galleys for his manuscript, Evangelical Anxiety: A Memoir, which was released last month by HarperOne.

Professor Marsh opens his story as he’s sitting with his family in church, listening to his pastor’s sermon. It is a quiet April day, and as they are throughout this memoir, his descriptions are so vivid that the reader is sitting next to him in his familiar pew, there in that church on that Sunday, seeing what he sees, smelling what he smells, and feeling what he feels. The pastor confers a wish on his congregants: He’d like them all to have a nervous breakdown in their youth. He goes on to say that if Martin Luther had lived in the days of Prozac, his inner torment would have been quelled, and there would have been no Protestant reformation. Professor Marsh then treats us to the first of many humorous moments – he rushes home and swallows a tablet of Ativan.

Professor Marsh focuses on a single dividing point for his life, a day in the fall of 1981. He was resting on his bed in his dorm room at Harvard Divinity School at the ripe age of 23 years, 6 months, and 3 days (but who’s counting), when all of who he was changed. He described what he went through that night:

It was then that a high pandemonium ripped away everything protecting me from the world outside. I was no longer a person alone in his room. In an instant, I could hear all things inside my body in their deepest repercussions. My heart and its soft aortic murmur, my breath’s every exhalation and inhalation, the downward silences, the laborious intake – would this one be the last? How much noise the body makes when amped up on fear! I could hear the hiss of molecules colliding. And outside in the yellow night, the compressors harrumphing atop the nearby physics building, the sound of car engines and slamming doors. All these things I heard as tormenting assault, a soundscape I could not mute. I’d become a thought thinking about thinking itself and nothing else, metaphysics’ ancient curse. A cogitation cycling through every autonomous body function, placing on each a question mark like flowers for the dead.

This moment in time – this “breakdown,” as Professor Marsh repeatedly refers to it – bifurcated his life. He went from being a person who lived “disguised to myself as unaghast and free” to someone who could no longer find escape in his reading, who struggled in his own skin and his own mind, and who, for lack of a better description, was tortured. The “breakdown” passed, and Professor Marsh diagnosed himself with generalized anxiety disorder.

That night, he did not go to an emergency department nor did he seek help from services that were available to Harvard students. There was no psychiatrist, no therapy, no medication. It was, for him, with his fundamentalist Christian background, a religious event of sorts.

I counted it all joy if I should suffer. My sorrow, my soul’s sin-sickness, was not unintelligible – it was a kind of blessing, something that might draw me, like a medieval saint, to the suffering of my Lord, something that would testify wordlessly to my heroic exertion to attain purity. And, at least during those late days of autumn 1981, the heavens above and the earth below, spirit and flesh, felt miraculously aligned. Though suffering, this was the life I had craved.

Charles Marsh grew up as a Baptist pastor’s son in the Deep South during a time when the civil rights movement came to a head, and life was marked by fear and change. The memoir is not simply about one man’s struggle with an anxiety disorder, but a beautifully written account of life as an evangelical Christian during a tumultuous time of racial tensions and horrible violence. He details his life as a lonely only child in a God-fearing world cast in dark shadows, one where he struggled to belong and called out to his mother in the nights. Inside this world, Professor Marsh searched for his own religious identity, with the pride of being a high school “Jesus freak,” running alongside his repressed and frustrated sexual longings.

It was a world of good and bad, of heaven and hell, only the two became so confused as he talked about his existence full of fears: The windows were barred; violence and fear were central in his Alabama hometown, “the epicenter of white terrorism,” and then later when his family moved to Mississippi. He feared the barking dogs that guarded the houses, the bullies who tormented him, and the bullying in which, he too, joined in. He feared the switch-wielding adults – his mother, his principals, his coaches, and his youth pastor, all set on “breaking the will of the child,” a term he explains to be a Christian concept in which the child’s own will is broken so that he will be submissive to his parents and to God. 

Professor Marsh wanted so much to be good. And we’re not sure he even knew what that was as he battled his desire to conform and belong, and his ever-present sexual impulses. Even as an adult, he was certain his mother would know if he had premarital sex and he would have to kill himself. Sex outside of marriage was the one unpardonable sin.

He suffered in silence and shame. It was not until a few years later that he entered psychotherapy as a doctoral student. When he moved to Baltimore, he again looked for a therapist and eventually found himself with a psychiatrist who was training to be a psychoanalyst in the hospital where I was a resident. This psychoanalysis proved to be transformative and healing, but first, Professor Marsh needed to reconcile his treatment with his religious beliefs, as therapy and fundamental religion travel different roads.

Analysis and faith traverse similar terrain – they understand how language and narrative heal. They may see each other as strangers or competitors, but they need not. Like prayer, the analytic dialogue slows down to ponder, to meander, to piece together, to redeem; both inspire the mind toward hope under the influence of an empathetic listener. Neither needs the other to effectuate its truths, but they follow parallel tracks into the mysteries of being human, where all truth is God’s truth. It’s more than fine that they neither merge nor collide.

He goes on to describe how powerful the process was for him and his healing. 

Analysis is the space where one feels – where I felt in an embodied way, in the unhurried hours over months and years – a trust in the beautiful interplay between the center and the extremes. My body and mind would not be raised in resurrected splendor in the course of the treatment. I wish to emphasize the point. It was tempting to think that it would, that I would undergo a miraculous transformation. If not resurrected splendor, then surely I would take on the “new man.” Instead, I received the gift of mortal life: the freedom to be imperfect, to have fears and face them, to accept brokenness, to let go of the will to control all outcomes.

Evangelical Anxiety is a beautifully written book, and a look into two worlds that can feel so secretive to the outsider. Professor Marsh’s use of language is extraordinary; he has a gift for metaphors and descriptions, and he carries the reader alongside him on a splendid journey. It has to be said, however, that he assumes a lot: He is a sophisticated scholar who mentions religious leaders, philosophers, historical characters, and the occasional rock song, with no patience for those who don’t follow his quick transitions and impressive vocabulary; I could have read this book with a dictionary beside me (but I didn’t).

It’s an illuminating journey, often sad and disturbing, sometimes funny and endearing, and ultimately uplifting. In our skeptical world where psychiatrists are so are often undone, it is refreshing to read a memoir where the psychiatrist is the good guy and the patient emerges healed and whole.
 

Dr. Miller, is a coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. She has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Women who’ve had endometriosis carry an elevated risk of stroke with them for the rest of their lives, with the greatest risk found in women who’ve had a hysterectomy with an oophorectomy, according to a cohort study of the Nurses’ Health Study.

“This is yet additional evidence that those girls and women with endometriosis are having effects across their lives and in multiple aspects of their health and well-being,” senior study author Stacey A. Missmer, ScD, of the Michigan State University, East Lansing, said in an interview. “This is not, in quotes ‘just a gynecologic condition,’ ” Dr. Missmer added. “It is not strictly about the pelvic pain or infertility, but it really is about the whole health across the life course.”

The study included 112,056 women in the NHSII cohort study who were followed from 1989 to June 2017, documenting 893 incident cases of stroke among them – an incidence of less than 1%. Endometriosis was reported in 5,244 women, and 93% of the cohort were White.

Multivariate adjusted models showed that women who had laparoscopically confirmed endometriosis had a 34% greater risk of stroke than women without a history of endometriosis. Leslie V. Farland, ScD, of the University of Arizona, Tucson, was lead author of the study.

While previous studies have demonstrated an increased risk of cardiovascular disease, heart attack, angina, and atherosclerosis in women who’ve had endometriosis, this is the first study that has confirmed an additional increased risk of stroke, Dr. Missmer said.

Another novel finding, Dr. Missmer said, is that while the CVD risks for these women “seem to peak at an earlier age,” the study found no age differences for stroke risk. “That also reinforces that these stroke events are often happening in an age range typical for stroke, which is further removed from when women are thinking about their gynecologic health specifically.”

These findings don’t translate into a significantly greater risk for stroke overall in women who’ve had endometriosis, Dr. Missmer said. She characterized the risk as “not negligible, but it’s not a huge increased risk.” The absolute risk is still fairly low, she said.

“We don’t want to give the impression that all women with endometriosis need to be panicked or fearful about stroke, she said. “Rather, the messaging is that this yet another bit of evidence that whole health care for those with endometriosis is important.”

Women who’ve had endometriosis and their primary care providers need to be attuned to stroke risk, she said. “This is a critical condition that primary care physicians need to engage around, and perhaps if symptoms related to cardiovascular and cerebrovascular disease emerge in their patients, they need to be engaging cardiology and similar types of support. This is not just about the gynecologists.”

The study also explored other factors that may contribute to stroke risk, with the most significant being hysterectomy with bilateral oophorectomy, Dr. Missmer said.

This study was unique because it used laparoscopically confirmed rather than self-reported endometriosis, said Louise D. McCullough, MD, neurology chair at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston. Another strength of the study she noted was its longitudinal design, although the cohort study design yielded a low number of stroke patients.

“Regardless, I do think it was a very important study because we have a growing recognition about how women’s health and factors such as pregnancy, infertility, parity, complications, and gonadal hormones such as estrogen can influence a woman’s stroke risk much later in life,” Dr. McCullough said in an interview.

Future studies into the relationship between endometriosis and CVD and stroke risk should focus on the mechanism behind the inflammation that occurs in endometriosis, Dr. McCullough said. “Part of it is probably the loss of hormones if a patient has to have an oophorectomy, but part of it is just what do these diseases do for a woman’s later risk – and for primary care physicians, ob.gyns., and stroke neurologists to recognize that these are questions we should ask: Have you ever  had eclampsia or preeclampsia? Did you have endometriosis? Have you had miscarriages?”

The study received funding from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development and the National Institute for Neurological Disorders and Stroke. Dr. Missmer disclosed relationships with Shanghai Huilun Biotechnology, Roche, and AbbVie. Dr. McCullough has no relevant disclosures.


 

Women who’ve had endometriosis carry an elevated risk of stroke with them for the rest of their lives, with the greatest risk found in women who’ve had a hysterectomy with an oophorectomy, according to a cohort study of the Nurses’ Health Study.

“This is yet additional evidence that those girls and women with endometriosis are having effects across their lives and in multiple aspects of their health and well-being,” senior study author Stacey A. Missmer, ScD, of the Michigan State University, East Lansing, said in an interview. “This is not, in quotes ‘just a gynecologic condition,’ ” Dr. Missmer added. “It is not strictly about the pelvic pain or infertility, but it really is about the whole health across the life course.”

The study included 112,056 women in the NHSII cohort study who were followed from 1989 to June 2017, documenting 893 incident cases of stroke among them – an incidence of less than 1%. Endometriosis was reported in 5,244 women, and 93% of the cohort were White.

Multivariate adjusted models showed that women who had laparoscopically confirmed endometriosis had a 34% greater risk of stroke than women without a history of endometriosis. Leslie V. Farland, ScD, of the University of Arizona, Tucson, was lead author of the study.

While previous studies have demonstrated an increased risk of cardiovascular disease, heart attack, angina, and atherosclerosis in women who’ve had endometriosis, this is the first study that has confirmed an additional increased risk of stroke, Dr. Missmer said.

Another novel finding, Dr. Missmer said, is that while the CVD risks for these women “seem to peak at an earlier age,” the study found no age differences for stroke risk. “That also reinforces that these stroke events are often happening in an age range typical for stroke, which is further removed from when women are thinking about their gynecologic health specifically.”

These findings don’t translate into a significantly greater risk for stroke overall in women who’ve had endometriosis, Dr. Missmer said. She characterized the risk as “not negligible, but it’s not a huge increased risk.” The absolute risk is still fairly low, she said.

“We don’t want to give the impression that all women with endometriosis need to be panicked or fearful about stroke, she said. “Rather, the messaging is that this yet another bit of evidence that whole health care for those with endometriosis is important.”

Women who’ve had endometriosis and their primary care providers need to be attuned to stroke risk, she said. “This is a critical condition that primary care physicians need to engage around, and perhaps if symptoms related to cardiovascular and cerebrovascular disease emerge in their patients, they need to be engaging cardiology and similar types of support. This is not just about the gynecologists.”

The study also explored other factors that may contribute to stroke risk, with the most significant being hysterectomy with bilateral oophorectomy, Dr. Missmer said.

This study was unique because it used laparoscopically confirmed rather than self-reported endometriosis, said Louise D. McCullough, MD, neurology chair at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston. Another strength of the study she noted was its longitudinal design, although the cohort study design yielded a low number of stroke patients.

“Regardless, I do think it was a very important study because we have a growing recognition about how women’s health and factors such as pregnancy, infertility, parity, complications, and gonadal hormones such as estrogen can influence a woman’s stroke risk much later in life,” Dr. McCullough said in an interview.

Future studies into the relationship between endometriosis and CVD and stroke risk should focus on the mechanism behind the inflammation that occurs in endometriosis, Dr. McCullough said. “Part of it is probably the loss of hormones if a patient has to have an oophorectomy, but part of it is just what do these diseases do for a woman’s later risk – and for primary care physicians, ob.gyns., and stroke neurologists to recognize that these are questions we should ask: Have you ever  had eclampsia or preeclampsia? Did you have endometriosis? Have you had miscarriages?”

The study received funding from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development and the National Institute for Neurological Disorders and Stroke. Dr. Missmer disclosed relationships with Shanghai Huilun Biotechnology, Roche, and AbbVie. Dr. McCullough has no relevant disclosures.


 

Women who’ve had endometriosis carry an elevated risk of stroke with them for the rest of their lives, with the greatest risk found in women who’ve had a hysterectomy with an oophorectomy, according to a cohort study of the Nurses’ Health Study.

“This is yet additional evidence that those girls and women with endometriosis are having effects across their lives and in multiple aspects of their health and well-being,” senior study author Stacey A. Missmer, ScD, of the Michigan State University, East Lansing, said in an interview. “This is not, in quotes ‘just a gynecologic condition,’ ” Dr. Missmer added. “It is not strictly about the pelvic pain or infertility, but it really is about the whole health across the life course.”

The study included 112,056 women in the NHSII cohort study who were followed from 1989 to June 2017, documenting 893 incident cases of stroke among them – an incidence of less than 1%. Endometriosis was reported in 5,244 women, and 93% of the cohort were White.

Multivariate adjusted models showed that women who had laparoscopically confirmed endometriosis had a 34% greater risk of stroke than women without a history of endometriosis. Leslie V. Farland, ScD, of the University of Arizona, Tucson, was lead author of the study.

While previous studies have demonstrated an increased risk of cardiovascular disease, heart attack, angina, and atherosclerosis in women who’ve had endometriosis, this is the first study that has confirmed an additional increased risk of stroke, Dr. Missmer said.

Another novel finding, Dr. Missmer said, is that while the CVD risks for these women “seem to peak at an earlier age,” the study found no age differences for stroke risk. “That also reinforces that these stroke events are often happening in an age range typical for stroke, which is further removed from when women are thinking about their gynecologic health specifically.”

These findings don’t translate into a significantly greater risk for stroke overall in women who’ve had endometriosis, Dr. Missmer said. She characterized the risk as “not negligible, but it’s not a huge increased risk.” The absolute risk is still fairly low, she said.

“We don’t want to give the impression that all women with endometriosis need to be panicked or fearful about stroke, she said. “Rather, the messaging is that this yet another bit of evidence that whole health care for those with endometriosis is important.”

Women who’ve had endometriosis and their primary care providers need to be attuned to stroke risk, she said. “This is a critical condition that primary care physicians need to engage around, and perhaps if symptoms related to cardiovascular and cerebrovascular disease emerge in their patients, they need to be engaging cardiology and similar types of support. This is not just about the gynecologists.”

The study also explored other factors that may contribute to stroke risk, with the most significant being hysterectomy with bilateral oophorectomy, Dr. Missmer said.

This study was unique because it used laparoscopically confirmed rather than self-reported endometriosis, said Louise D. McCullough, MD, neurology chair at the University of Texas Health Science Center, Houston. Another strength of the study she noted was its longitudinal design, although the cohort study design yielded a low number of stroke patients.

“Regardless, I do think it was a very important study because we have a growing recognition about how women’s health and factors such as pregnancy, infertility, parity, complications, and gonadal hormones such as estrogen can influence a woman’s stroke risk much later in life,” Dr. McCullough said in an interview.

Future studies into the relationship between endometriosis and CVD and stroke risk should focus on the mechanism behind the inflammation that occurs in endometriosis, Dr. McCullough said. “Part of it is probably the loss of hormones if a patient has to have an oophorectomy, but part of it is just what do these diseases do for a woman’s later risk – and for primary care physicians, ob.gyns., and stroke neurologists to recognize that these are questions we should ask: Have you ever  had eclampsia or preeclampsia? Did you have endometriosis? Have you had miscarriages?”

The study received funding from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development and the National Institute for Neurological Disorders and Stroke. Dr. Missmer disclosed relationships with Shanghai Huilun Biotechnology, Roche, and AbbVie. Dr. McCullough has no relevant disclosures.


 

Cutting out almost all salt when preparing meals was associated with a worse prognosis in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction (HFpEF), according to the results of a new study.

Results from a post hoc analysis of the TOPCAT trial show that those with a cooking salt score of zero were at significantly higher risk of the primary outcome of cardiovascular (CV) death, HF hospitalization, and aborted cardiac arrest than those whose score was above zero. Survival was similar in both groups.

“Some patients restrict dietary salt intake as least as possible according to their physicians’ words or their own understanding. However, the present study found that, in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, overstrict salt restriction could lead to poor prognosis – mainly heart failure hospitalization,” explained professor Chen Liu, MD, and Weihao Liang, MD, Sun Yat-sen University First Affiliated Hospital, Guangzhou, Guangdong, China.

Krisana Antharith / EyeEm / Getty Images

“Thus, when giving salt restriction advice to patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, physicians should be careful instead of just saying “as least as possible,” they said in an email to this news organization.

The study was published in the journal Heart.

The authors note that HF guidelines recommend reduced salt intake, but there’s a lack of high-quality evidence to support those recommendations and no consensus on how low to go.

Previous studies have shown that reduced dietary sodium intake was associated with worse survival and higher readmission rate in patients with HF, whereas the SODIUM HF trial reported earlier this year that dietary sodium intake of less than 100 mmol (1,500 mg) per day did not improve 1-year clinical outcomes but moderately improved quality of life and New York Heart Association functional class.

“In daily clinical practice, we noticed that some physicians advised patients with heart failure to take salt as least as possible, but it could lead to hyponatremia and loss of appetite, which has been frequently reported to be associated with poor prognosis. Thus, we wanted to investigate the potential effect of overstrict salt restriction,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang explained.

The investigators examined data from 1,713 participants aged 50 and older with HFpEF (left ventricular ejection fraction 45% or greater) in the phase 3 TOPCAT trial, excluding those from Russia and Georgia. Patients self-reported how much salt they added to cooking staples, such as rice, pasta, potatoes, soup, meat, and vegetables, and were scored as 0 (none), 1 (⅛ teaspoon), 2 (¼ teaspoon), and 3 (½ teaspoon or more) points. Median follow-up was 2.9 years.

TOPCAT failed to show that spironolactone improved CV outcomes over placebo, but regional differences in data from Russia/Georgia and the Americas have raised concerns about its validity.

In the present analysis, almost half the participants (816) had a cooking salt score of 0, 56.4% were male, and 80.8% were White. They were more likely than participants with a salt score greater than zero to have a previous HF hospitalization, diabetes, poor renal function, and a lower ejection fraction (57% vs. 60%). Half were randomly assigned to spironolactone.

Compared with patients with a cooking salt score of 0, patients with a cooking salt score greater than 0 had significantly lower risks of the primary outcome (hazard ratio, 0.760; P = .002) and HF hospitalization (HR, 0.737; P = .003) but not all-cause (HR, 0.838) or CV (HR, 0.782) death.

The findings were consistent after full adjustment, with hazard ratios of 0.834 (P = .046), 0.791 (P = .024), 0.944, and 0.872, respectively.

Results of subgroup analyses suggested that patients aged 70 years or younger (HR, 0.644) and those of Black and other ethnicities (HR, 0.574) were at greater risk of the primary outcome from aggressive restriction of cooking salt.

“It was an interesting but unproved finding,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang observed. “One possible explanation is the difference in RAAS [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] physiology and its response to salt restriction among races, and the other is the difference in accustomed food, because the cooking salt score only accounted for sodium added during cooking but not sodium from ingredients.”

Spearman correlation analyses showed that the cooking salt score correlated significantly with systolic and diastolic blood pressure, serum sodium, and chloronium levels but not with plasma volume status, suggesting that low sodium intake did not have an intravascular volume contraction effect on patients with HFpEF.

The authors pointed out that the salt score was self-reported, hemodynamic parameters were seldom acquired in TOPCAT, and that reverse causation between low dietary sodium intake and worse HF might still exist, despite a propensity score-matching sensitivity analysis.

Reached for comment, Mary Norine Walsh, MD, the medical director of heart failure and cardiac transplantation, Ascension St. Vincent Heart Center, Indianapolis, said in an email that the authors appropriately excluded patients enrolled from Russia and Georgia because of concerns about the representativeness of patients with HFpEF in these two countries, which has been previously demonstrated.

“What limits the importance of the authors’ findings, which they acknowledge, is that the sodium intake for each patient was self-reported,” she said. “No confirmatory testing was done and recall bias could clearly have played a role.”

“Last, many patients with HFpEF have significant volume overload and dyspnea and appropriate sodium restriction is needed to help address symptoms and achieve a euvolemic state,” added Dr. Walsh, a past president of the American College of Cardiology.

Future trials are needed to determine an optimal salt restriction range for patients with heart failure, Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang suggested. “A randomized controlled trial may be hard to achieve because it is difficult to set a perfect control group. Therefore, an analysis using real-world data with a dose-response curve could be ideal.”

The study was funded by the National Natural Science Foundation of China, Guangdong Natural Science Foundation, and China Postdoctoral Science Foundation. The authors report no relevant financial relationships.

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

Cutting out almost all salt when preparing meals was associated with a worse prognosis in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction (HFpEF), according to the results of a new study.

Results from a post hoc analysis of the TOPCAT trial show that those with a cooking salt score of zero were at significantly higher risk of the primary outcome of cardiovascular (CV) death, HF hospitalization, and aborted cardiac arrest than those whose score was above zero. Survival was similar in both groups.

“Some patients restrict dietary salt intake as least as possible according to their physicians’ words or their own understanding. However, the present study found that, in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, overstrict salt restriction could lead to poor prognosis – mainly heart failure hospitalization,” explained professor Chen Liu, MD, and Weihao Liang, MD, Sun Yat-sen University First Affiliated Hospital, Guangzhou, Guangdong, China.

Krisana Antharith / EyeEm / Getty Images

“Thus, when giving salt restriction advice to patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, physicians should be careful instead of just saying “as least as possible,” they said in an email to this news organization.

The study was published in the journal Heart.

The authors note that HF guidelines recommend reduced salt intake, but there’s a lack of high-quality evidence to support those recommendations and no consensus on how low to go.

Previous studies have shown that reduced dietary sodium intake was associated with worse survival and higher readmission rate in patients with HF, whereas the SODIUM HF trial reported earlier this year that dietary sodium intake of less than 100 mmol (1,500 mg) per day did not improve 1-year clinical outcomes but moderately improved quality of life and New York Heart Association functional class.

“In daily clinical practice, we noticed that some physicians advised patients with heart failure to take salt as least as possible, but it could lead to hyponatremia and loss of appetite, which has been frequently reported to be associated with poor prognosis. Thus, we wanted to investigate the potential effect of overstrict salt restriction,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang explained.

The investigators examined data from 1,713 participants aged 50 and older with HFpEF (left ventricular ejection fraction 45% or greater) in the phase 3 TOPCAT trial, excluding those from Russia and Georgia. Patients self-reported how much salt they added to cooking staples, such as rice, pasta, potatoes, soup, meat, and vegetables, and were scored as 0 (none), 1 (⅛ teaspoon), 2 (¼ teaspoon), and 3 (½ teaspoon or more) points. Median follow-up was 2.9 years.

TOPCAT failed to show that spironolactone improved CV outcomes over placebo, but regional differences in data from Russia/Georgia and the Americas have raised concerns about its validity.

In the present analysis, almost half the participants (816) had a cooking salt score of 0, 56.4% were male, and 80.8% were White. They were more likely than participants with a salt score greater than zero to have a previous HF hospitalization, diabetes, poor renal function, and a lower ejection fraction (57% vs. 60%). Half were randomly assigned to spironolactone.

Compared with patients with a cooking salt score of 0, patients with a cooking salt score greater than 0 had significantly lower risks of the primary outcome (hazard ratio, 0.760; P = .002) and HF hospitalization (HR, 0.737; P = .003) but not all-cause (HR, 0.838) or CV (HR, 0.782) death.

The findings were consistent after full adjustment, with hazard ratios of 0.834 (P = .046), 0.791 (P = .024), 0.944, and 0.872, respectively.

Results of subgroup analyses suggested that patients aged 70 years or younger (HR, 0.644) and those of Black and other ethnicities (HR, 0.574) were at greater risk of the primary outcome from aggressive restriction of cooking salt.

“It was an interesting but unproved finding,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang observed. “One possible explanation is the difference in RAAS [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] physiology and its response to salt restriction among races, and the other is the difference in accustomed food, because the cooking salt score only accounted for sodium added during cooking but not sodium from ingredients.”

Spearman correlation analyses showed that the cooking salt score correlated significantly with systolic and diastolic blood pressure, serum sodium, and chloronium levels but not with plasma volume status, suggesting that low sodium intake did not have an intravascular volume contraction effect on patients with HFpEF.

The authors pointed out that the salt score was self-reported, hemodynamic parameters were seldom acquired in TOPCAT, and that reverse causation between low dietary sodium intake and worse HF might still exist, despite a propensity score-matching sensitivity analysis.

Reached for comment, Mary Norine Walsh, MD, the medical director of heart failure and cardiac transplantation, Ascension St. Vincent Heart Center, Indianapolis, said in an email that the authors appropriately excluded patients enrolled from Russia and Georgia because of concerns about the representativeness of patients with HFpEF in these two countries, which has been previously demonstrated.

“What limits the importance of the authors’ findings, which they acknowledge, is that the sodium intake for each patient was self-reported,” she said. “No confirmatory testing was done and recall bias could clearly have played a role.”

“Last, many patients with HFpEF have significant volume overload and dyspnea and appropriate sodium restriction is needed to help address symptoms and achieve a euvolemic state,” added Dr. Walsh, a past president of the American College of Cardiology.

Future trials are needed to determine an optimal salt restriction range for patients with heart failure, Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang suggested. “A randomized controlled trial may be hard to achieve because it is difficult to set a perfect control group. Therefore, an analysis using real-world data with a dose-response curve could be ideal.”

The study was funded by the National Natural Science Foundation of China, Guangdong Natural Science Foundation, and China Postdoctoral Science Foundation. The authors report no relevant financial relationships.

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

Cutting out almost all salt when preparing meals was associated with a worse prognosis in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction (HFpEF), according to the results of a new study.

Results from a post hoc analysis of the TOPCAT trial show that those with a cooking salt score of zero were at significantly higher risk of the primary outcome of cardiovascular (CV) death, HF hospitalization, and aborted cardiac arrest than those whose score was above zero. Survival was similar in both groups.

“Some patients restrict dietary salt intake as least as possible according to their physicians’ words or their own understanding. However, the present study found that, in patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, overstrict salt restriction could lead to poor prognosis – mainly heart failure hospitalization,” explained professor Chen Liu, MD, and Weihao Liang, MD, Sun Yat-sen University First Affiliated Hospital, Guangzhou, Guangdong, China.

Krisana Antharith / EyeEm / Getty Images

“Thus, when giving salt restriction advice to patients with heart failure with preserved ejection fraction, physicians should be careful instead of just saying “as least as possible,” they said in an email to this news organization.

The study was published in the journal Heart.

The authors note that HF guidelines recommend reduced salt intake, but there’s a lack of high-quality evidence to support those recommendations and no consensus on how low to go.

Previous studies have shown that reduced dietary sodium intake was associated with worse survival and higher readmission rate in patients with HF, whereas the SODIUM HF trial reported earlier this year that dietary sodium intake of less than 100 mmol (1,500 mg) per day did not improve 1-year clinical outcomes but moderately improved quality of life and New York Heart Association functional class.

“In daily clinical practice, we noticed that some physicians advised patients with heart failure to take salt as least as possible, but it could lead to hyponatremia and loss of appetite, which has been frequently reported to be associated with poor prognosis. Thus, we wanted to investigate the potential effect of overstrict salt restriction,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang explained.

The investigators examined data from 1,713 participants aged 50 and older with HFpEF (left ventricular ejection fraction 45% or greater) in the phase 3 TOPCAT trial, excluding those from Russia and Georgia. Patients self-reported how much salt they added to cooking staples, such as rice, pasta, potatoes, soup, meat, and vegetables, and were scored as 0 (none), 1 (⅛ teaspoon), 2 (¼ teaspoon), and 3 (½ teaspoon or more) points. Median follow-up was 2.9 years.

TOPCAT failed to show that spironolactone improved CV outcomes over placebo, but regional differences in data from Russia/Georgia and the Americas have raised concerns about its validity.

In the present analysis, almost half the participants (816) had a cooking salt score of 0, 56.4% were male, and 80.8% were White. They were more likely than participants with a salt score greater than zero to have a previous HF hospitalization, diabetes, poor renal function, and a lower ejection fraction (57% vs. 60%). Half were randomly assigned to spironolactone.

Compared with patients with a cooking salt score of 0, patients with a cooking salt score greater than 0 had significantly lower risks of the primary outcome (hazard ratio, 0.760; P = .002) and HF hospitalization (HR, 0.737; P = .003) but not all-cause (HR, 0.838) or CV (HR, 0.782) death.

The findings were consistent after full adjustment, with hazard ratios of 0.834 (P = .046), 0.791 (P = .024), 0.944, and 0.872, respectively.

Results of subgroup analyses suggested that patients aged 70 years or younger (HR, 0.644) and those of Black and other ethnicities (HR, 0.574) were at greater risk of the primary outcome from aggressive restriction of cooking salt.

“It was an interesting but unproved finding,” Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang observed. “One possible explanation is the difference in RAAS [renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system] physiology and its response to salt restriction among races, and the other is the difference in accustomed food, because the cooking salt score only accounted for sodium added during cooking but not sodium from ingredients.”

Spearman correlation analyses showed that the cooking salt score correlated significantly with systolic and diastolic blood pressure, serum sodium, and chloronium levels but not with plasma volume status, suggesting that low sodium intake did not have an intravascular volume contraction effect on patients with HFpEF.

The authors pointed out that the salt score was self-reported, hemodynamic parameters were seldom acquired in TOPCAT, and that reverse causation between low dietary sodium intake and worse HF might still exist, despite a propensity score-matching sensitivity analysis.

Reached for comment, Mary Norine Walsh, MD, the medical director of heart failure and cardiac transplantation, Ascension St. Vincent Heart Center, Indianapolis, said in an email that the authors appropriately excluded patients enrolled from Russia and Georgia because of concerns about the representativeness of patients with HFpEF in these two countries, which has been previously demonstrated.

“What limits the importance of the authors’ findings, which they acknowledge, is that the sodium intake for each patient was self-reported,” she said. “No confirmatory testing was done and recall bias could clearly have played a role.”

“Last, many patients with HFpEF have significant volume overload and dyspnea and appropriate sodium restriction is needed to help address symptoms and achieve a euvolemic state,” added Dr. Walsh, a past president of the American College of Cardiology.

Future trials are needed to determine an optimal salt restriction range for patients with heart failure, Dr. Liu and Dr. Liang suggested. “A randomized controlled trial may be hard to achieve because it is difficult to set a perfect control group. Therefore, an analysis using real-world data with a dose-response curve could be ideal.”

The study was funded by the National Natural Science Foundation of China, Guangdong Natural Science Foundation, and China Postdoctoral Science Foundation. The authors report no relevant financial relationships.

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

Rheumatologists who administer medications in their office for Medicare patients, specifically those that are infused, have in recent years encountered problems providing certain medication formulations as well as coding and billing for their administration. In attempting to resolve these issues, rheumatologists and their professional organizations have found themselves caught in a morass of Medicare agency “ping-pong,” where it is unclear who the decision makers are.

The private health care insurers that process medical claims for Medicare beneficiaries, called A/B Medicare Administrative Contractors or more commonly known as MACs, are the operational intermediary between the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services’ fee-for-service program and the physicians enrolled in it. The country is divided into 12 sections, each with a MAC that has jurisdiction over that area. Among other things, the MACs establish local coverage and payment policies based on their understanding of CMS’ rules, regulations, and the Medicare statute, and therein lies the problem: When a physician has a question on a policy or decision that was made by a MAC, it is very difficult to determine the origins of the issue and who can address the problem. It’s a lot of “running in circles” between the MACs and CMS headquarters, hoping that someone will take the time to listen to your concern, but more importantly, work toward resolving the problem.

Who can address problems?

Meaningful, solutions-driven engagement with the MACs and CMS has become frustrating for physicians and advocacy organizations attempting to address a host of problems. The two issues alluded to above include the Self-Administered Drug Exclusion List (SAD List), which excludes certain Part B medication formulations from coverage under certain conditions and the “down coding” of certain infusion administration codes when specific drugs are delivered. These problems are compounded by the curtailment of physician stakeholder input via Contractor Advisory Committees (CACs). Each state has its own CAC, but the CAC meetings have been restructured as a result of the 21st Century Cures Act, and ultimately eradicated the involvement of these physician advisers in policy development at the local level.

This has left many of rheumatology representatives to the CACs demoralized and generally unhappy about certain decisions being made without their input. There is also inconsistency in terms of coverage and payment policies throughout the country. For example, in one MAC jurisdiction, a certain medication may be on the SAD List and excluded from Part B coverage, meaning beneficiary access is only available through Part D (and assuming they can afford it), while in an adjacent MAC jurisdiction, both formulations are covered.

The Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations, along with the American College of Rheumatology and other specialty groups, is attempting to address these issues from many different angles. There is not enough space to explain the nuances of local coverage policy development, but the timeline below highlights the long and winding road that we have travelled to resolve these issues.

• February 2021: CSRO meets with CMS’ Coverage and Analysis Group (CAG) to raise concerns about ustekinumab (Stelara) and its inclusion on the SAD List.
• April 2021: CSRO follows up with CMS’ CAG on SAD List concerns in a letter.
• May 2021: Most MACs issue or revise local coverage articles, or “billing and coding” articles, that down code the administration of certain biologic medications, with some expanding the list of biologic medications subject to the policy, prompting a strong response from CSRO.
• September 2021: CSRO meets with multijurisdictional MAC Contract Medical Director (CMD) work group to discuss down coding, SAD List, and physician/CAC engagement.
• October 2021: At the suggestion of the CMDs, CSRO re-engages with CMS’ CAG to raise concerns about down-coding policies and physician/CAC engagement, and continue the SAD List discussion.
• November 2021: CSRO is connected with CMS’ “payment ombudsman” on down coding and the SAD List.
• January 2022: CSRO signs on to multispecialty coalition effort aimed at improving local coverage and payment policy and restoring the importance of the CAC.
• February 2022: CSRO participates in CMS CAG meeting with multispecialty coalition, raising concerns about the down-coding and SAD List policies.
• March/April 2022: Through its coalition partner, the Alliance of Specialty Medicine, CSRO meets with the principal deputy CMS administrator and raises awareness to these issues.
• May 2022: CSRO participates in follow-up discussion with CMS’ CAG as part of multispecialty coalition, reiterating concerns about the down coding and SAD List policies. With the assistance of the CMS’ Office of the Administrator, CSRO meets with CMS’ Center for Program Integrity to seek a “pause” in down-coding policies for certain biologic medications.
• June 2022: CMS notifies CSRO of a “temporary pause” in medical review while the agency reviews various manuals and policies to determine the appropriate steps forward. To assist the agency, CSRO works with practices to develop a resource that CMS can use to establish criteria for determining when a medication warrants use of complex drug administration codes. CSRO re-engages with multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup to continue discussions on SAD List.
• July 2022: CSRO meets with new multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup focused on improving the process for developing local coverage and payment policy.

Our dialogue with CMS leadership and staff continues. In the most recent communication, staff in the CMS administrator’s office informed us that the issue is complicated and crosses several different parts of the agency, and they are still determining next steps.

The rheumatology community’s journey toward solving the challenges facing practices and patients is emblematic of the communication problem between provider groups and the CMS-MAC establishment. While we understand this is how bureaucracy works, it is not to the benefit of Medicare beneficiaries to have a system that is so difficult to navigate, even by the best of the regulatory gurus. This is not an indictment of any specific group but a call to action on the part of the government and their contractors to create a clear, transparent path to getting answers when we have a problem.

And by the way, we do have another meeting with yet another CMS “center” regarding the SAD List in August.

Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is president of the CSRO, past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines, and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.

Rheumatologists who administer medications in their office for Medicare patients, specifically those that are infused, have in recent years encountered problems providing certain medication formulations as well as coding and billing for their administration. In attempting to resolve these issues, rheumatologists and their professional organizations have found themselves caught in a morass of Medicare agency “ping-pong,” where it is unclear who the decision makers are.

The private health care insurers that process medical claims for Medicare beneficiaries, called A/B Medicare Administrative Contractors or more commonly known as MACs, are the operational intermediary between the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services’ fee-for-service program and the physicians enrolled in it. The country is divided into 12 sections, each with a MAC that has jurisdiction over that area. Among other things, the MACs establish local coverage and payment policies based on their understanding of CMS’ rules, regulations, and the Medicare statute, and therein lies the problem: When a physician has a question on a policy or decision that was made by a MAC, it is very difficult to determine the origins of the issue and who can address the problem. It’s a lot of “running in circles” between the MACs and CMS headquarters, hoping that someone will take the time to listen to your concern, but more importantly, work toward resolving the problem.

Who can address problems?

Meaningful, solutions-driven engagement with the MACs and CMS has become frustrating for physicians and advocacy organizations attempting to address a host of problems. The two issues alluded to above include the Self-Administered Drug Exclusion List (SAD List), which excludes certain Part B medication formulations from coverage under certain conditions and the “down coding” of certain infusion administration codes when specific drugs are delivered. These problems are compounded by the curtailment of physician stakeholder input via Contractor Advisory Committees (CACs). Each state has its own CAC, but the CAC meetings have been restructured as a result of the 21st Century Cures Act, and ultimately eradicated the involvement of these physician advisers in policy development at the local level.

This has left many of rheumatology representatives to the CACs demoralized and generally unhappy about certain decisions being made without their input. There is also inconsistency in terms of coverage and payment policies throughout the country. For example, in one MAC jurisdiction, a certain medication may be on the SAD List and excluded from Part B coverage, meaning beneficiary access is only available through Part D (and assuming they can afford it), while in an adjacent MAC jurisdiction, both formulations are covered.

The Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations, along with the American College of Rheumatology and other specialty groups, is attempting to address these issues from many different angles. There is not enough space to explain the nuances of local coverage policy development, but the timeline below highlights the long and winding road that we have travelled to resolve these issues.

• February 2021: CSRO meets with CMS’ Coverage and Analysis Group (CAG) to raise concerns about ustekinumab (Stelara) and its inclusion on the SAD List.
• April 2021: CSRO follows up with CMS’ CAG on SAD List concerns in a letter.
• May 2021: Most MACs issue or revise local coverage articles, or “billing and coding” articles, that down code the administration of certain biologic medications, with some expanding the list of biologic medications subject to the policy, prompting a strong response from CSRO.
• September 2021: CSRO meets with multijurisdictional MAC Contract Medical Director (CMD) work group to discuss down coding, SAD List, and physician/CAC engagement.
• October 2021: At the suggestion of the CMDs, CSRO re-engages with CMS’ CAG to raise concerns about down-coding policies and physician/CAC engagement, and continue the SAD List discussion.
• November 2021: CSRO is connected with CMS’ “payment ombudsman” on down coding and the SAD List.
• January 2022: CSRO signs on to multispecialty coalition effort aimed at improving local coverage and payment policy and restoring the importance of the CAC.
• February 2022: CSRO participates in CMS CAG meeting with multispecialty coalition, raising concerns about the down-coding and SAD List policies.
• March/April 2022: Through its coalition partner, the Alliance of Specialty Medicine, CSRO meets with the principal deputy CMS administrator and raises awareness to these issues.
• May 2022: CSRO participates in follow-up discussion with CMS’ CAG as part of multispecialty coalition, reiterating concerns about the down coding and SAD List policies. With the assistance of the CMS’ Office of the Administrator, CSRO meets with CMS’ Center for Program Integrity to seek a “pause” in down-coding policies for certain biologic medications.
• June 2022: CMS notifies CSRO of a “temporary pause” in medical review while the agency reviews various manuals and policies to determine the appropriate steps forward. To assist the agency, CSRO works with practices to develop a resource that CMS can use to establish criteria for determining when a medication warrants use of complex drug administration codes. CSRO re-engages with multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup to continue discussions on SAD List.
• July 2022: CSRO meets with new multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup focused on improving the process for developing local coverage and payment policy.

Our dialogue with CMS leadership and staff continues. In the most recent communication, staff in the CMS administrator’s office informed us that the issue is complicated and crosses several different parts of the agency, and they are still determining next steps.

The rheumatology community’s journey toward solving the challenges facing practices and patients is emblematic of the communication problem between provider groups and the CMS-MAC establishment. While we understand this is how bureaucracy works, it is not to the benefit of Medicare beneficiaries to have a system that is so difficult to navigate, even by the best of the regulatory gurus. This is not an indictment of any specific group but a call to action on the part of the government and their contractors to create a clear, transparent path to getting answers when we have a problem.

And by the way, we do have another meeting with yet another CMS “center” regarding the SAD List in August.

Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is president of the CSRO, past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines, and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.

Rheumatologists who administer medications in their office for Medicare patients, specifically those that are infused, have in recent years encountered problems providing certain medication formulations as well as coding and billing for their administration. In attempting to resolve these issues, rheumatologists and their professional organizations have found themselves caught in a morass of Medicare agency “ping-pong,” where it is unclear who the decision makers are.

The private health care insurers that process medical claims for Medicare beneficiaries, called A/B Medicare Administrative Contractors or more commonly known as MACs, are the operational intermediary between the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services’ fee-for-service program and the physicians enrolled in it. The country is divided into 12 sections, each with a MAC that has jurisdiction over that area. Among other things, the MACs establish local coverage and payment policies based on their understanding of CMS’ rules, regulations, and the Medicare statute, and therein lies the problem: When a physician has a question on a policy or decision that was made by a MAC, it is very difficult to determine the origins of the issue and who can address the problem. It’s a lot of “running in circles” between the MACs and CMS headquarters, hoping that someone will take the time to listen to your concern, but more importantly, work toward resolving the problem.

Who can address problems?

Meaningful, solutions-driven engagement with the MACs and CMS has become frustrating for physicians and advocacy organizations attempting to address a host of problems. The two issues alluded to above include the Self-Administered Drug Exclusion List (SAD List), which excludes certain Part B medication formulations from coverage under certain conditions and the “down coding” of certain infusion administration codes when specific drugs are delivered. These problems are compounded by the curtailment of physician stakeholder input via Contractor Advisory Committees (CACs). Each state has its own CAC, but the CAC meetings have been restructured as a result of the 21st Century Cures Act, and ultimately eradicated the involvement of these physician advisers in policy development at the local level.

This has left many of rheumatology representatives to the CACs demoralized and generally unhappy about certain decisions being made without their input. There is also inconsistency in terms of coverage and payment policies throughout the country. For example, in one MAC jurisdiction, a certain medication may be on the SAD List and excluded from Part B coverage, meaning beneficiary access is only available through Part D (and assuming they can afford it), while in an adjacent MAC jurisdiction, both formulations are covered.

The Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations, along with the American College of Rheumatology and other specialty groups, is attempting to address these issues from many different angles. There is not enough space to explain the nuances of local coverage policy development, but the timeline below highlights the long and winding road that we have travelled to resolve these issues.

• February 2021: CSRO meets with CMS’ Coverage and Analysis Group (CAG) to raise concerns about ustekinumab (Stelara) and its inclusion on the SAD List.
• April 2021: CSRO follows up with CMS’ CAG on SAD List concerns in a letter.
• May 2021: Most MACs issue or revise local coverage articles, or “billing and coding” articles, that down code the administration of certain biologic medications, with some expanding the list of biologic medications subject to the policy, prompting a strong response from CSRO.
• September 2021: CSRO meets with multijurisdictional MAC Contract Medical Director (CMD) work group to discuss down coding, SAD List, and physician/CAC engagement.
• October 2021: At the suggestion of the CMDs, CSRO re-engages with CMS’ CAG to raise concerns about down-coding policies and physician/CAC engagement, and continue the SAD List discussion.
• November 2021: CSRO is connected with CMS’ “payment ombudsman” on down coding and the SAD List.
• January 2022: CSRO signs on to multispecialty coalition effort aimed at improving local coverage and payment policy and restoring the importance of the CAC.
• February 2022: CSRO participates in CMS CAG meeting with multispecialty coalition, raising concerns about the down-coding and SAD List policies.
• March/April 2022: Through its coalition partner, the Alliance of Specialty Medicine, CSRO meets with the principal deputy CMS administrator and raises awareness to these issues.
• May 2022: CSRO participates in follow-up discussion with CMS’ CAG as part of multispecialty coalition, reiterating concerns about the down coding and SAD List policies. With the assistance of the CMS’ Office of the Administrator, CSRO meets with CMS’ Center for Program Integrity to seek a “pause” in down-coding policies for certain biologic medications.
• June 2022: CMS notifies CSRO of a “temporary pause” in medical review while the agency reviews various manuals and policies to determine the appropriate steps forward. To assist the agency, CSRO works with practices to develop a resource that CMS can use to establish criteria for determining when a medication warrants use of complex drug administration codes. CSRO re-engages with multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup to continue discussions on SAD List.
• July 2022: CSRO meets with new multijurisdictional MAC CMD workgroup focused on improving the process for developing local coverage and payment policy.

Our dialogue with CMS leadership and staff continues. In the most recent communication, staff in the CMS administrator’s office informed us that the issue is complicated and crosses several different parts of the agency, and they are still determining next steps.

The rheumatology community’s journey toward solving the challenges facing practices and patients is emblematic of the communication problem between provider groups and the CMS-MAC establishment. While we understand this is how bureaucracy works, it is not to the benefit of Medicare beneficiaries to have a system that is so difficult to navigate, even by the best of the regulatory gurus. This is not an indictment of any specific group but a call to action on the part of the government and their contractors to create a clear, transparent path to getting answers when we have a problem.

And by the way, we do have another meeting with yet another CMS “center” regarding the SAD List in August.

Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is president of the CSRO, past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines, and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.

President Joe Biden has tested positive for COVID-19, the White House announced today.

Biden, 79, is experiencing “very mild” symptoms, White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre said in a statement. The president is fully vaccinated and has been boosted twice and has started taking the antiviral Paxlovid since testing positive, Ms. Jean-Pierre said.

President Biden plans to isolate at the White House and “will continue to carry out all of his duties fully during that time,” the statement said.

“He has been in contact with members of the White House staff by phone this morning, and will participate in his planned meetings at the White House this morning via phone and Zoom from the residence.”

President Biden will return to in-person work after he tests negative.

This is a developing story. Please check back for updates. A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com .

President Joe Biden has tested positive for COVID-19, the White House announced today.

Biden, 79, is experiencing “very mild” symptoms, White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre said in a statement. The president is fully vaccinated and has been boosted twice and has started taking the antiviral Paxlovid since testing positive, Ms. Jean-Pierre said.

President Biden plans to isolate at the White House and “will continue to carry out all of his duties fully during that time,” the statement said.

“He has been in contact with members of the White House staff by phone this morning, and will participate in his planned meetings at the White House this morning via phone and Zoom from the residence.”

President Biden will return to in-person work after he tests negative.

This is a developing story. Please check back for updates. A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com .

President Joe Biden has tested positive for COVID-19, the White House announced today.

Biden, 79, is experiencing “very mild” symptoms, White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre said in a statement. The president is fully vaccinated and has been boosted twice and has started taking the antiviral Paxlovid since testing positive, Ms. Jean-Pierre said.

President Biden plans to isolate at the White House and “will continue to carry out all of his duties fully during that time,” the statement said.

“He has been in contact with members of the White House staff by phone this morning, and will participate in his planned meetings at the White House this morning via phone and Zoom from the residence.”

President Biden will return to in-person work after he tests negative.

This is a developing story. Please check back for updates. A version of this article first appeared on WebMD.com .

After a year of uncertainty and decline because of the COVID-19 pandemic, demand for clinicians has rebounded – and the job market for new physicians and advanced practitioners is back to normal, or more accurately “the new normal,” according to a recently released report from Merritt Hawkins, the physician search division of AMN Healthcare.

The study is based on an analysis of job search and consulting assignments that the firm conducted on behalf of its health care organization clients from April 1, 2021, to March 31, 2022.

“Search engagements were down a little over 30% in 2020, but by the end of 2021, everything started spiking dramatically to the point of where we were at a 34-year high,” Michael Belkin, divisional vice president with Merritt Hawkins, told this news organization. “The pendulum has gone all the way back. People are more interested in going out and seeing their physicians.”

Demand for physicians was suppressed during the peak of the pandemic, as many hospitals curtailed elective procedures and many patients refrained from entering a medical facility. A large backlog of patients needing care subsequently developed.

This, combined with an aging population and widespread chronic medical conditions, has caused a strong surge in demand for physicians and advanced practitioners, according to the report.

In addition to the volume of searches increasing, physician starting salaries have rebounded from the COVID-19 downturn.

Average starting salaries of 14 physician specialties tracked in 2021/2022 increased, while only 3 decreased. Orthopedic surgeons were offered an average of $565,000 to start, exclusive of signing bonuses and other incentives, up from $546,000 the previous year. Urologists were offered an average of $510,000 to start, up from $497,000; gastroenterologists were offered $474,000, up from $453,000; while radiologists were offered $455,000, up from $401,000.

Similarly, a recent Medscape study based on responses from more than 13,000 U.S. physicians across 29 specialties found that income for all physician specialists increased, with otolaryngologists, gastroenterologists, and dermatologists experiencing the greatest gains.
 

A new reality

While the job market for physicians and advanced practitioners has seemingly recovered, there are many differences between today’s working environment for clinicians and what existed during the pandemic.

First, specialists are now stepping into the spotlight, a position that primary care clinicians previously held. The majority of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements (64%) in 2021/2022 were for physician specialists, including cardiologists, gastroenterologists, orthopedic surgeons, neurologists, oncologists, and others. Only 17% of the search engagements were for primary care physicians, down from 18% in 2020/2021 and 20% in 2019/2020.

“We’ve seen specialties bounce back faster. Of course, you’ve got the aging population; you’ve got people that want that specialized care,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are playing a more significant role in the postpandemic word. In fact, 19% of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements were for advanced practitioners, including nurse practitioners (NPs), physician assistants, and certified registered nurse anesthetists, up from 18% the previous year and just 13% the year prior to that, indicating growing demand for nonphysician providers.

NPs, in fact, topped the list of most requested search engagements, underscoring a shift from traditional physician office-based primary care delivery settings toward “convenient care” settings such as urgent care centers and retail clinics that are largely staffed by NPs and other advanced practitioners.

Advanced practitioners are taking on more responsibility for primary care simply because there is a large number of these professionals ready to take on the challenge.

The health care industry was “not able to produce enough primary care physicians over the last decade. So advanced practitioners, I believe, have slowly started to work alongside those primary care physicians. In a lot of areas such as your retail space, your CVS, your Walmart, your Walgreens, your standalone urgent cares, they’ve stepped up,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are providing the convenience that consumers are increasingly demanding.

“We are a society that wants things immediately ... but it’s still a challenge to schedule an appointment with a physician. However, it’s less of a challenge to get into a retail clinic or an urgent care center or to schedule something through telehealth,” Mr. Belkin noted.
 

More than just money

With the job market strong, the challenge for health care organizations is to create competitive recruiting packages. Sure enough, 92% of candidates were offered signing bonuses in 2021/2022 compared with just 61% in 2020/2021.

The financial incentives, however, might not be enough. In this environment, health care organizations need to go beyond simply offering competitive salaries to new recruits. For example, clinicians are seeking flexibility, as many potential hires are seeking remote positions. In fact, 18% of radiology search engagements were for teleradiologists, while 15% of its search engagements for psychiatrists were for telepsychiatrists in 2021/2022.

“Right now, quality of life is a very important factor. It’s work-life balance. It’s sensitivity to the stresses that we just experienced over the last 2.5 years,” Mr. Belkin concluded. “There’s more sensitivity around the culture of the organizations. What’s the leadership like? How did the organization handle the pandemic? How do they respond?”

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

After a year of uncertainty and decline because of the COVID-19 pandemic, demand for clinicians has rebounded – and the job market for new physicians and advanced practitioners is back to normal, or more accurately “the new normal,” according to a recently released report from Merritt Hawkins, the physician search division of AMN Healthcare.

The study is based on an analysis of job search and consulting assignments that the firm conducted on behalf of its health care organization clients from April 1, 2021, to March 31, 2022.

“Search engagements were down a little over 30% in 2020, but by the end of 2021, everything started spiking dramatically to the point of where we were at a 34-year high,” Michael Belkin, divisional vice president with Merritt Hawkins, told this news organization. “The pendulum has gone all the way back. People are more interested in going out and seeing their physicians.”

Demand for physicians was suppressed during the peak of the pandemic, as many hospitals curtailed elective procedures and many patients refrained from entering a medical facility. A large backlog of patients needing care subsequently developed.

This, combined with an aging population and widespread chronic medical conditions, has caused a strong surge in demand for physicians and advanced practitioners, according to the report.

In addition to the volume of searches increasing, physician starting salaries have rebounded from the COVID-19 downturn.

Average starting salaries of 14 physician specialties tracked in 2021/2022 increased, while only 3 decreased. Orthopedic surgeons were offered an average of $565,000 to start, exclusive of signing bonuses and other incentives, up from $546,000 the previous year. Urologists were offered an average of $510,000 to start, up from $497,000; gastroenterologists were offered $474,000, up from $453,000; while radiologists were offered $455,000, up from $401,000.

Similarly, a recent Medscape study based on responses from more than 13,000 U.S. physicians across 29 specialties found that income for all physician specialists increased, with otolaryngologists, gastroenterologists, and dermatologists experiencing the greatest gains.
 

A new reality

While the job market for physicians and advanced practitioners has seemingly recovered, there are many differences between today’s working environment for clinicians and what existed during the pandemic.

First, specialists are now stepping into the spotlight, a position that primary care clinicians previously held. The majority of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements (64%) in 2021/2022 were for physician specialists, including cardiologists, gastroenterologists, orthopedic surgeons, neurologists, oncologists, and others. Only 17% of the search engagements were for primary care physicians, down from 18% in 2020/2021 and 20% in 2019/2020.

“We’ve seen specialties bounce back faster. Of course, you’ve got the aging population; you’ve got people that want that specialized care,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are playing a more significant role in the postpandemic word. In fact, 19% of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements were for advanced practitioners, including nurse practitioners (NPs), physician assistants, and certified registered nurse anesthetists, up from 18% the previous year and just 13% the year prior to that, indicating growing demand for nonphysician providers.

NPs, in fact, topped the list of most requested search engagements, underscoring a shift from traditional physician office-based primary care delivery settings toward “convenient care” settings such as urgent care centers and retail clinics that are largely staffed by NPs and other advanced practitioners.

Advanced practitioners are taking on more responsibility for primary care simply because there is a large number of these professionals ready to take on the challenge.

The health care industry was “not able to produce enough primary care physicians over the last decade. So advanced practitioners, I believe, have slowly started to work alongside those primary care physicians. In a lot of areas such as your retail space, your CVS, your Walmart, your Walgreens, your standalone urgent cares, they’ve stepped up,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are providing the convenience that consumers are increasingly demanding.

“We are a society that wants things immediately ... but it’s still a challenge to schedule an appointment with a physician. However, it’s less of a challenge to get into a retail clinic or an urgent care center or to schedule something through telehealth,” Mr. Belkin noted.
 

More than just money

With the job market strong, the challenge for health care organizations is to create competitive recruiting packages. Sure enough, 92% of candidates were offered signing bonuses in 2021/2022 compared with just 61% in 2020/2021.

The financial incentives, however, might not be enough. In this environment, health care organizations need to go beyond simply offering competitive salaries to new recruits. For example, clinicians are seeking flexibility, as many potential hires are seeking remote positions. In fact, 18% of radiology search engagements were for teleradiologists, while 15% of its search engagements for psychiatrists were for telepsychiatrists in 2021/2022.

“Right now, quality of life is a very important factor. It’s work-life balance. It’s sensitivity to the stresses that we just experienced over the last 2.5 years,” Mr. Belkin concluded. “There’s more sensitivity around the culture of the organizations. What’s the leadership like? How did the organization handle the pandemic? How do they respond?”

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

After a year of uncertainty and decline because of the COVID-19 pandemic, demand for clinicians has rebounded – and the job market for new physicians and advanced practitioners is back to normal, or more accurately “the new normal,” according to a recently released report from Merritt Hawkins, the physician search division of AMN Healthcare.

The study is based on an analysis of job search and consulting assignments that the firm conducted on behalf of its health care organization clients from April 1, 2021, to March 31, 2022.

“Search engagements were down a little over 30% in 2020, but by the end of 2021, everything started spiking dramatically to the point of where we were at a 34-year high,” Michael Belkin, divisional vice president with Merritt Hawkins, told this news organization. “The pendulum has gone all the way back. People are more interested in going out and seeing their physicians.”

Demand for physicians was suppressed during the peak of the pandemic, as many hospitals curtailed elective procedures and many patients refrained from entering a medical facility. A large backlog of patients needing care subsequently developed.

This, combined with an aging population and widespread chronic medical conditions, has caused a strong surge in demand for physicians and advanced practitioners, according to the report.

In addition to the volume of searches increasing, physician starting salaries have rebounded from the COVID-19 downturn.

Average starting salaries of 14 physician specialties tracked in 2021/2022 increased, while only 3 decreased. Orthopedic surgeons were offered an average of $565,000 to start, exclusive of signing bonuses and other incentives, up from $546,000 the previous year. Urologists were offered an average of $510,000 to start, up from $497,000; gastroenterologists were offered $474,000, up from $453,000; while radiologists were offered $455,000, up from $401,000.

Similarly, a recent Medscape study based on responses from more than 13,000 U.S. physicians across 29 specialties found that income for all physician specialists increased, with otolaryngologists, gastroenterologists, and dermatologists experiencing the greatest gains.
 

A new reality

While the job market for physicians and advanced practitioners has seemingly recovered, there are many differences between today’s working environment for clinicians and what existed during the pandemic.

First, specialists are now stepping into the spotlight, a position that primary care clinicians previously held. The majority of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements (64%) in 2021/2022 were for physician specialists, including cardiologists, gastroenterologists, orthopedic surgeons, neurologists, oncologists, and others. Only 17% of the search engagements were for primary care physicians, down from 18% in 2020/2021 and 20% in 2019/2020.

“We’ve seen specialties bounce back faster. Of course, you’ve got the aging population; you’ve got people that want that specialized care,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are playing a more significant role in the postpandemic word. In fact, 19% of Merritt Hawkins’ search engagements were for advanced practitioners, including nurse practitioners (NPs), physician assistants, and certified registered nurse anesthetists, up from 18% the previous year and just 13% the year prior to that, indicating growing demand for nonphysician providers.

NPs, in fact, topped the list of most requested search engagements, underscoring a shift from traditional physician office-based primary care delivery settings toward “convenient care” settings such as urgent care centers and retail clinics that are largely staffed by NPs and other advanced practitioners.

Advanced practitioners are taking on more responsibility for primary care simply because there is a large number of these professionals ready to take on the challenge.

The health care industry was “not able to produce enough primary care physicians over the last decade. So advanced practitioners, I believe, have slowly started to work alongside those primary care physicians. In a lot of areas such as your retail space, your CVS, your Walmart, your Walgreens, your standalone urgent cares, they’ve stepped up,” Mr. Belkin said.

Advanced practitioners also are providing the convenience that consumers are increasingly demanding.

“We are a society that wants things immediately ... but it’s still a challenge to schedule an appointment with a physician. However, it’s less of a challenge to get into a retail clinic or an urgent care center or to schedule something through telehealth,” Mr. Belkin noted.
 

More than just money

With the job market strong, the challenge for health care organizations is to create competitive recruiting packages. Sure enough, 92% of candidates were offered signing bonuses in 2021/2022 compared with just 61% in 2020/2021.

The financial incentives, however, might not be enough. In this environment, health care organizations need to go beyond simply offering competitive salaries to new recruits. For example, clinicians are seeking flexibility, as many potential hires are seeking remote positions. In fact, 18% of radiology search engagements were for teleradiologists, while 15% of its search engagements for psychiatrists were for telepsychiatrists in 2021/2022.

“Right now, quality of life is a very important factor. It’s work-life balance. It’s sensitivity to the stresses that we just experienced over the last 2.5 years,” Mr. Belkin concluded. “There’s more sensitivity around the culture of the organizations. What’s the leadership like? How did the organization handle the pandemic? How do they respond?”

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

In a video posted to TikTok by the comedian Will Flanary, MD, better known to his followers as Dr. Glaucomflecken, he imitates a neurosurgical residency interview. With glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, Dr. Glaucomflecken poses as the attending, asking: “What are your weaknesses?”

The residency applicant answers without hesitation: “My physiological need for sleep.” “What are your strengths?” The resident replies with the hard, steely stare of the determined and uninitiated: “My desire to eliminate my physiological need for sleep.”

If you follow Dr. Glaucomflecken on Twitter, you might know the skit I’m referencing. For many physicians and physicians-in-training, what makes the satire successful is its reflection of reality.

Many things have changed in medicine since his time, but the tired trope of the sleepless surgeon hangs on. Undaunted, I spent my second and third year of medical school accumulating accolades, conducting research, and connecting with mentors with the singular goal of joining the surgical ranks.

Midway through my third year, I completed a month-long surgical subinternship designed to give students a taste of what life would look like as an intern. I loved the operating room; it felt like the difference between being on dry land and being underwater. There were fewer distractions – your patient in the spotlight while everything else receded to the shadows.

However, as the month wore on, something stronger took hold. I couldn’t keep my eyes open in the darkened operating rooms and had to decline stools, fearing that I would fall asleep if I sat down.

On early morning prerounds, it’s 4:50 a.m. when I glance at the clock and pull back the curtain, already apologizing. My patient rolls over, flashing a wry smile. “Do you ever go home?” I’ve seen residents respond to this exact question in various ways. I live here. Yes. No. Soon. Not enough. My partner doesn’t think so.

There are days and, yes, years when we are led to believe this is what we live for: to be constantly available to our patients. It feels like a hollow victory when the patient, 2 days out from a total colectomy, begins to worry about your personal life. I ask her how she slept (not enough), any fevers (no), vomiting (no), urinating (I pause – she has a catheter).

My favorite part of these early morning rounds is the pause in my scripted litany of questions to listen to heart and lungs. It never fails to feel sacred: Patients become so quiet and still that I can’t help but think they have faith in me. Without prompting, she slides the back of her hospital gown forward like a curtain, already taking deep breaths so I can hear her lungs.

I look outside. The streetlights are still on, and from the seventh-floor window, I can watch staff making their way through the sliding double-doors, just beyond the yellowed pools of streetlight. I smile. I love medicine. I’m so tired.

For many in medicine, we are treated, and thus behave, as though our ability to manipulate physiology should also apply within the borders of our bodies: commanding less sleep, food, or bathroom breaks.

It places health care workers solidly in the realm of superhuman, living beyond one’s corporeal needs. The pandemic only heightened this misappropriation – adding hero and setting out a pedestal for health care workers to make their ungainly ascent. This kind of unsolicited admiration implicitly implies inhumanness, an otherness.

What would it look like if we started treating ourselves less like physicians and more like patients? I wish I was offering a solution, but really this is just a story. Maybe it’s not more sleep you need but something just as critical to the delicate physiologic and psychological scales of well-being.

To students rising through the ranks of medical training, identify what it is you need early and often. I can count on one hand how many physicians I’ve seen take a lunch break – even 10 minutes. Embrace hard work and self-preservation equally. My hope is that if enough of us take this path, it just might become a matter of course.

Dr. Meffert is a resident in the department of emergency medicine, MedStar Georgetown University Hospital, Washington Hospital Center, Washington. Dr. Meffert disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

In a video posted to TikTok by the comedian Will Flanary, MD, better known to his followers as Dr. Glaucomflecken, he imitates a neurosurgical residency interview. With glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, Dr. Glaucomflecken poses as the attending, asking: “What are your weaknesses?”

The residency applicant answers without hesitation: “My physiological need for sleep.” “What are your strengths?” The resident replies with the hard, steely stare of the determined and uninitiated: “My desire to eliminate my physiological need for sleep.”

If you follow Dr. Glaucomflecken on Twitter, you might know the skit I’m referencing. For many physicians and physicians-in-training, what makes the satire successful is its reflection of reality.

Many things have changed in medicine since his time, but the tired trope of the sleepless surgeon hangs on. Undaunted, I spent my second and third year of medical school accumulating accolades, conducting research, and connecting with mentors with the singular goal of joining the surgical ranks.

Midway through my third year, I completed a month-long surgical subinternship designed to give students a taste of what life would look like as an intern. I loved the operating room; it felt like the difference between being on dry land and being underwater. There were fewer distractions – your patient in the spotlight while everything else receded to the shadows.

However, as the month wore on, something stronger took hold. I couldn’t keep my eyes open in the darkened operating rooms and had to decline stools, fearing that I would fall asleep if I sat down.

On early morning prerounds, it’s 4:50 a.m. when I glance at the clock and pull back the curtain, already apologizing. My patient rolls over, flashing a wry smile. “Do you ever go home?” I’ve seen residents respond to this exact question in various ways. I live here. Yes. No. Soon. Not enough. My partner doesn’t think so.

There are days and, yes, years when we are led to believe this is what we live for: to be constantly available to our patients. It feels like a hollow victory when the patient, 2 days out from a total colectomy, begins to worry about your personal life. I ask her how she slept (not enough), any fevers (no), vomiting (no), urinating (I pause – she has a catheter).

My favorite part of these early morning rounds is the pause in my scripted litany of questions to listen to heart and lungs. It never fails to feel sacred: Patients become so quiet and still that I can’t help but think they have faith in me. Without prompting, she slides the back of her hospital gown forward like a curtain, already taking deep breaths so I can hear her lungs.

I look outside. The streetlights are still on, and from the seventh-floor window, I can watch staff making their way through the sliding double-doors, just beyond the yellowed pools of streetlight. I smile. I love medicine. I’m so tired.

For many in medicine, we are treated, and thus behave, as though our ability to manipulate physiology should also apply within the borders of our bodies: commanding less sleep, food, or bathroom breaks.

It places health care workers solidly in the realm of superhuman, living beyond one’s corporeal needs. The pandemic only heightened this misappropriation – adding hero and setting out a pedestal for health care workers to make their ungainly ascent. This kind of unsolicited admiration implicitly implies inhumanness, an otherness.

What would it look like if we started treating ourselves less like physicians and more like patients? I wish I was offering a solution, but really this is just a story. Maybe it’s not more sleep you need but something just as critical to the delicate physiologic and psychological scales of well-being.

To students rising through the ranks of medical training, identify what it is you need early and often. I can count on one hand how many physicians I’ve seen take a lunch break – even 10 minutes. Embrace hard work and self-preservation equally. My hope is that if enough of us take this path, it just might become a matter of course.

Dr. Meffert is a resident in the department of emergency medicine, MedStar Georgetown University Hospital, Washington Hospital Center, Washington. Dr. Meffert disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

In a video posted to TikTok by the comedian Will Flanary, MD, better known to his followers as Dr. Glaucomflecken, he imitates a neurosurgical residency interview. With glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, Dr. Glaucomflecken poses as the attending, asking: “What are your weaknesses?”

The residency applicant answers without hesitation: “My physiological need for sleep.” “What are your strengths?” The resident replies with the hard, steely stare of the determined and uninitiated: “My desire to eliminate my physiological need for sleep.”

If you follow Dr. Glaucomflecken on Twitter, you might know the skit I’m referencing. For many physicians and physicians-in-training, what makes the satire successful is its reflection of reality.

Many things have changed in medicine since his time, but the tired trope of the sleepless surgeon hangs on. Undaunted, I spent my second and third year of medical school accumulating accolades, conducting research, and connecting with mentors with the singular goal of joining the surgical ranks.

Midway through my third year, I completed a month-long surgical subinternship designed to give students a taste of what life would look like as an intern. I loved the operating room; it felt like the difference between being on dry land and being underwater. There were fewer distractions – your patient in the spotlight while everything else receded to the shadows.

However, as the month wore on, something stronger took hold. I couldn’t keep my eyes open in the darkened operating rooms and had to decline stools, fearing that I would fall asleep if I sat down.

On early morning prerounds, it’s 4:50 a.m. when I glance at the clock and pull back the curtain, already apologizing. My patient rolls over, flashing a wry smile. “Do you ever go home?” I’ve seen residents respond to this exact question in various ways. I live here. Yes. No. Soon. Not enough. My partner doesn’t think so.

There are days and, yes, years when we are led to believe this is what we live for: to be constantly available to our patients. It feels like a hollow victory when the patient, 2 days out from a total colectomy, begins to worry about your personal life. I ask her how she slept (not enough), any fevers (no), vomiting (no), urinating (I pause – she has a catheter).

My favorite part of these early morning rounds is the pause in my scripted litany of questions to listen to heart and lungs. It never fails to feel sacred: Patients become so quiet and still that I can’t help but think they have faith in me. Without prompting, she slides the back of her hospital gown forward like a curtain, already taking deep breaths so I can hear her lungs.

I look outside. The streetlights are still on, and from the seventh-floor window, I can watch staff making their way through the sliding double-doors, just beyond the yellowed pools of streetlight. I smile. I love medicine. I’m so tired.

For many in medicine, we are treated, and thus behave, as though our ability to manipulate physiology should also apply within the borders of our bodies: commanding less sleep, food, or bathroom breaks.

It places health care workers solidly in the realm of superhuman, living beyond one’s corporeal needs. The pandemic only heightened this misappropriation – adding hero and setting out a pedestal for health care workers to make their ungainly ascent. This kind of unsolicited admiration implicitly implies inhumanness, an otherness.

What would it look like if we started treating ourselves less like physicians and more like patients? I wish I was offering a solution, but really this is just a story. Maybe it’s not more sleep you need but something just as critical to the delicate physiologic and psychological scales of well-being.

To students rising through the ranks of medical training, identify what it is you need early and often. I can count on one hand how many physicians I’ve seen take a lunch break – even 10 minutes. Embrace hard work and self-preservation equally. My hope is that if enough of us take this path, it just might become a matter of course.

Dr. Meffert is a resident in the department of emergency medicine, MedStar Georgetown University Hospital, Washington Hospital Center, Washington. Dr. Meffert disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Charcoal won’t let high-fat diet weigh you down

Do you want to be the funniest person alive? Of course you do. It’s really simple too, just one joke can make you the greatest comedian of all time. All you have to do is go camping and cook food over a roaring campfire. When someone drops food into the fire (which they always will), get ready. Once they fish out the offending food, which is almost certainly coated in hot coals, tell them: “Ah, eat it anyway. A little texture never hurt!” Trust us, most hilarious and original gag of all time.

But before your hapless friend brushes off his hot dog and forces a laugh, consider this: Japanese researchers have found that a charcoal supplement can prevent weight gain in mice consuming a high-fat diet. Charcoal is actually quite the helpful substance, and not just for grilling. It’s been used as medicine for hundreds of years and even today is used as a treatment for drug overdose and excess gas and flatulence.

PxHere

The study involved two groups of mice: One was fed a normal diet, the other a high-fat diet. After 12 weeks, the high-fat diet mice had gained weight. At that point, edible activated charcoal was added to their diet. From that point, weight gain was similar between the two groups, and the amount of bile acid, cholesterol, triglyceride, and fatty acid excreted by the high-fat mice increased by two to four times.

The researchers supported the notion that consuming an activated charcoal supplement before or while eating fatty food could prevent weight gain from said fatty food. Which works out well for the classic American barbecue, which is traditionally both high in fat and charcoal. All you have to do is buy some extra charcoal briquettes to pass around and munch on with your friends. Now that’s a party we can get behind.
 

There’s awake, and then there’s neurologically awake

Time to toss another urban legend onto the trash heap of history. Say goodbye to the benefits of uninterrupted sleep. It’s a fraud, a fake, a myth, a hit or myth, a swing and a myth, an old wives’ tale. You can stuff it and put it on a shelf next to Bigfoot, the Slender Man, and Twinkies.

JackF/thinkstockphotos.com

We all thought we needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night, but guess who we forgot to tell? Our brains. They’ve been doing exactly the opposite all along, laughing at us the whole time. Smug SOBs.

To straighten out this mess, let’s bring in a scientist, Celia Kjaerby of the Center for Translational Neuromedicine at the University of Copenhagen: “You may think that sleep is a constant state that you are in, and then you wake up. But there is a lot more to sleep than meets the eye. We have learned that noradrenaline causes you to wake up more than 100 times a night. And that is during perfectly normal sleep.”

Those 100 or so sleep interruptions are so brief that we don’t even notice, but they are very important, according to a study conducted at the university. Those tiny little wake-up calls are “the essence for the part of sleep that makes us wake up rested and which enables us to remember what we learned the day before. ... The very short awakenings are created by waves of norepinephrine [and they] reset the brain so that it is ready to store memory when you dive back into sleep,” lead author Maiken Nedergaard, MD, explained.

The investigators compared the level of noradrenaline in sleeping mice with their electrical activity and found that the hormone constantly increased and decreased in a wavelike pattern. A high level meant that the animal was neurologically awake. Deeper valleys between the high points meant better sleep, and the mice with the “highest number of deep noradrenaline valleys were also the ones with the best memory,” the team said in their written statement.

Not just the best memory, they said, but “super memory.” That, of course, was enough to get the attention of Marvel Comics, so the next Disney superhero blockbuster will feature Nocturna, the queen of the night. Her power? Never forgets. Her archnemesis? The Insomniac. Her catchphrase? “Let me sleep on it.”

Words can hurt, literally

Growing up, we’re sure you heard the “sticks and stones” rhyme. Maybe you’ve even recited it once or twice to defend yourself. Well, forget it, because words can hurt and your brain knows it.

PxHere

In a new study published in Frontiers in Communication, Marijn Struiksma, PhD, of Utrecht University, and colleagues incorporated the use of electroencephalography (EEG) and skin conductance on 79 women to see how words (specifically insults) actually affect the human body.

Each subject was asked to read three different types of statements: an insult, a compliment, and something factual but neutral. Half of the statements contained the subject’s name and half used somebody else’s. The participants were told that these statements were collected from three men.

Nobody interacted with each other, and the setting was completely clinical, yet the results were unmistakable. The EEG showed an effect in P2 amplitude with repetitive insults, no matter who it was about. Even though the insults weren’t real and the participants were aware of it, the brain still recognized them as hurtful, coming across as “mini slaps in the face,” Dr. Struiksma noted in a written statement.

The researchers noted that more needs to be done to better understand the long-term effects that insults can have and create a deeper understanding between words and emotion, but studying the effects of insults in a real-life setting is ethically tricky. This study is a start.

So, yeah, sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will actually hurt you.

This article was updated 7/21/22.

Charcoal won’t let high-fat diet weigh you down

Do you want to be the funniest person alive? Of course you do. It’s really simple too, just one joke can make you the greatest comedian of all time. All you have to do is go camping and cook food over a roaring campfire. When someone drops food into the fire (which they always will), get ready. Once they fish out the offending food, which is almost certainly coated in hot coals, tell them: “Ah, eat it anyway. A little texture never hurt!” Trust us, most hilarious and original gag of all time.

But before your hapless friend brushes off his hot dog and forces a laugh, consider this: Japanese researchers have found that a charcoal supplement can prevent weight gain in mice consuming a high-fat diet. Charcoal is actually quite the helpful substance, and not just for grilling. It’s been used as medicine for hundreds of years and even today is used as a treatment for drug overdose and excess gas and flatulence.

PxHere

The study involved two groups of mice: One was fed a normal diet, the other a high-fat diet. After 12 weeks, the high-fat diet mice had gained weight. At that point, edible activated charcoal was added to their diet. From that point, weight gain was similar between the two groups, and the amount of bile acid, cholesterol, triglyceride, and fatty acid excreted by the high-fat mice increased by two to four times.

The researchers supported the notion that consuming an activated charcoal supplement before or while eating fatty food could prevent weight gain from said fatty food. Which works out well for the classic American barbecue, which is traditionally both high in fat and charcoal. All you have to do is buy some extra charcoal briquettes to pass around and munch on with your friends. Now that’s a party we can get behind.
 

There’s awake, and then there’s neurologically awake

Time to toss another urban legend onto the trash heap of history. Say goodbye to the benefits of uninterrupted sleep. It’s a fraud, a fake, a myth, a hit or myth, a swing and a myth, an old wives’ tale. You can stuff it and put it on a shelf next to Bigfoot, the Slender Man, and Twinkies.

JackF/thinkstockphotos.com

We all thought we needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night, but guess who we forgot to tell? Our brains. They’ve been doing exactly the opposite all along, laughing at us the whole time. Smug SOBs.

To straighten out this mess, let’s bring in a scientist, Celia Kjaerby of the Center for Translational Neuromedicine at the University of Copenhagen: “You may think that sleep is a constant state that you are in, and then you wake up. But there is a lot more to sleep than meets the eye. We have learned that noradrenaline causes you to wake up more than 100 times a night. And that is during perfectly normal sleep.”

Those 100 or so sleep interruptions are so brief that we don’t even notice, but they are very important, according to a study conducted at the university. Those tiny little wake-up calls are “the essence for the part of sleep that makes us wake up rested and which enables us to remember what we learned the day before. ... The very short awakenings are created by waves of norepinephrine [and they] reset the brain so that it is ready to store memory when you dive back into sleep,” lead author Maiken Nedergaard, MD, explained.

The investigators compared the level of noradrenaline in sleeping mice with their electrical activity and found that the hormone constantly increased and decreased in a wavelike pattern. A high level meant that the animal was neurologically awake. Deeper valleys between the high points meant better sleep, and the mice with the “highest number of deep noradrenaline valleys were also the ones with the best memory,” the team said in their written statement.

Not just the best memory, they said, but “super memory.” That, of course, was enough to get the attention of Marvel Comics, so the next Disney superhero blockbuster will feature Nocturna, the queen of the night. Her power? Never forgets. Her archnemesis? The Insomniac. Her catchphrase? “Let me sleep on it.”

Words can hurt, literally

Growing up, we’re sure you heard the “sticks and stones” rhyme. Maybe you’ve even recited it once or twice to defend yourself. Well, forget it, because words can hurt and your brain knows it.

PxHere

In a new study published in Frontiers in Communication, Marijn Struiksma, PhD, of Utrecht University, and colleagues incorporated the use of electroencephalography (EEG) and skin conductance on 79 women to see how words (specifically insults) actually affect the human body.

Each subject was asked to read three different types of statements: an insult, a compliment, and something factual but neutral. Half of the statements contained the subject’s name and half used somebody else’s. The participants were told that these statements were collected from three men.

Nobody interacted with each other, and the setting was completely clinical, yet the results were unmistakable. The EEG showed an effect in P2 amplitude with repetitive insults, no matter who it was about. Even though the insults weren’t real and the participants were aware of it, the brain still recognized them as hurtful, coming across as “mini slaps in the face,” Dr. Struiksma noted in a written statement.

The researchers noted that more needs to be done to better understand the long-term effects that insults can have and create a deeper understanding between words and emotion, but studying the effects of insults in a real-life setting is ethically tricky. This study is a start.

So, yeah, sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will actually hurt you.

This article was updated 7/21/22.

Charcoal won’t let high-fat diet weigh you down

Do you want to be the funniest person alive? Of course you do. It’s really simple too, just one joke can make you the greatest comedian of all time. All you have to do is go camping and cook food over a roaring campfire. When someone drops food into the fire (which they always will), get ready. Once they fish out the offending food, which is almost certainly coated in hot coals, tell them: “Ah, eat it anyway. A little texture never hurt!” Trust us, most hilarious and original gag of all time.

But before your hapless friend brushes off his hot dog and forces a laugh, consider this: Japanese researchers have found that a charcoal supplement can prevent weight gain in mice consuming a high-fat diet. Charcoal is actually quite the helpful substance, and not just for grilling. It’s been used as medicine for hundreds of years and even today is used as a treatment for drug overdose and excess gas and flatulence.

PxHere

The study involved two groups of mice: One was fed a normal diet, the other a high-fat diet. After 12 weeks, the high-fat diet mice had gained weight. At that point, edible activated charcoal was added to their diet. From that point, weight gain was similar between the two groups, and the amount of bile acid, cholesterol, triglyceride, and fatty acid excreted by the high-fat mice increased by two to four times.

The researchers supported the notion that consuming an activated charcoal supplement before or while eating fatty food could prevent weight gain from said fatty food. Which works out well for the classic American barbecue, which is traditionally both high in fat and charcoal. All you have to do is buy some extra charcoal briquettes to pass around and munch on with your friends. Now that’s a party we can get behind.
 

There’s awake, and then there’s neurologically awake

Time to toss another urban legend onto the trash heap of history. Say goodbye to the benefits of uninterrupted sleep. It’s a fraud, a fake, a myth, a hit or myth, a swing and a myth, an old wives’ tale. You can stuff it and put it on a shelf next to Bigfoot, the Slender Man, and Twinkies.

JackF/thinkstockphotos.com

We all thought we needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night, but guess who we forgot to tell? Our brains. They’ve been doing exactly the opposite all along, laughing at us the whole time. Smug SOBs.

To straighten out this mess, let’s bring in a scientist, Celia Kjaerby of the Center for Translational Neuromedicine at the University of Copenhagen: “You may think that sleep is a constant state that you are in, and then you wake up. But there is a lot more to sleep than meets the eye. We have learned that noradrenaline causes you to wake up more than 100 times a night. And that is during perfectly normal sleep.”

Those 100 or so sleep interruptions are so brief that we don’t even notice, but they are very important, according to a study conducted at the university. Those tiny little wake-up calls are “the essence for the part of sleep that makes us wake up rested and which enables us to remember what we learned the day before. ... The very short awakenings are created by waves of norepinephrine [and they] reset the brain so that it is ready to store memory when you dive back into sleep,” lead author Maiken Nedergaard, MD, explained.

The investigators compared the level of noradrenaline in sleeping mice with their electrical activity and found that the hormone constantly increased and decreased in a wavelike pattern. A high level meant that the animal was neurologically awake. Deeper valleys between the high points meant better sleep, and the mice with the “highest number of deep noradrenaline valleys were also the ones with the best memory,” the team said in their written statement.

Not just the best memory, they said, but “super memory.” That, of course, was enough to get the attention of Marvel Comics, so the next Disney superhero blockbuster will feature Nocturna, the queen of the night. Her power? Never forgets. Her archnemesis? The Insomniac. Her catchphrase? “Let me sleep on it.”

Words can hurt, literally

Growing up, we’re sure you heard the “sticks and stones” rhyme. Maybe you’ve even recited it once or twice to defend yourself. Well, forget it, because words can hurt and your brain knows it.

PxHere

In a new study published in Frontiers in Communication, Marijn Struiksma, PhD, of Utrecht University, and colleagues incorporated the use of electroencephalography (EEG) and skin conductance on 79 women to see how words (specifically insults) actually affect the human body.

Each subject was asked to read three different types of statements: an insult, a compliment, and something factual but neutral. Half of the statements contained the subject’s name and half used somebody else’s. The participants were told that these statements were collected from three men.

Nobody interacted with each other, and the setting was completely clinical, yet the results were unmistakable. The EEG showed an effect in P2 amplitude with repetitive insults, no matter who it was about. Even though the insults weren’t real and the participants were aware of it, the brain still recognized them as hurtful, coming across as “mini slaps in the face,” Dr. Struiksma noted in a written statement.

The researchers noted that more needs to be done to better understand the long-term effects that insults can have and create a deeper understanding between words and emotion, but studying the effects of insults in a real-life setting is ethically tricky. This study is a start.

So, yeah, sticks and stones can break your bones, but words will actually hurt you.

This article was updated 7/21/22.

Hormone therapy did not increase mortality in postmenopausal women treated for early-stage estrogen receptor–positive breast cancer, but, in longitudinal data from Denmark, there was a recurrence risk with vaginal estrogen therapy among those treated with aromatase inhibitors.

Genitourinary syndrome of menopause (GSM) – including vaginal dryness, burning, and urinary incontinence – is common in women treated for breast cancer. Adjuvant endocrine therapy, particularly aromatase inhibitors, can aggravate these symptoms. Both local and systemic estrogen therapy are recommended for alleviating GSM symptoms in healthy women, but concerns have been raised about their use in women with breast cancer. Previous studies examining this have suggested possible risks for breast cancer recurrence, but those studies have had several limitations including small samples and short follow-up, particularly for vaginal estrogen therapy.

In the new study, from a national Danish cohort of 8,461 postmenopausal women diagnosed between 1997 and 2004 and treated for early-stage invasive estrogen receptor–positive nonmetastatic breast cancer, neither systemic menopausal hormone therapy (MHT) nor local vaginal estrogen therapy (VET) were associated with an overall increased risk for either breast cancer recurrence or mortality. However, in the subset who had received an aromatase inhibitor – with or without tamoxifen – there was a statistically significant increased risk for breast cancer recurrence, but not mortality.

The results were published in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute.

“The data are reassuring for the majority of women with no adjuvant therapy or tamoxifen. But for those using adjuvant aromatase inhibitors, there might be a small risk,” study lead author Søren Cold, MD, PhD, senior oncologist in the department of oncology at Odense (Denmark) University Hospital, Odense, said in an interview.

Moreover, Dr. Cold noted, while this study didn’t find an increased recurrence risk with MHT for women taking aromatase inhibitors, other studies have. One in particular was stopped because of harm. The reason for the difference here is likely that the previous sample was small – just 133 women.

“Our study is mainly focusing on the use of vaginal estrogen. We had so few patients using systemic menopausal hormone therapy, those data don’t mean much. ... The risk with systemic therapy has been established. The vaginal use hasn’t been thoroughly studied before,” he noted.
 

Breast cancer recurrence elevated with VET and aromatase inhibitors

The study pool was 9,710 women who underwent complete resection for estrogen-positive breast cancer and were all allocated to 5 years of adjuvant endocrine treatment or no adjuvant treatment, according to guidelines. Overall, 3,112 received no adjuvant endocrine treatment, 2,007 were treated with tamoxifen only, 403 with an aromatase inhibitor, and 2,939 with a sequence of tamoxifen and an aromatase inhibitor.

After exclusion of 1,249 who had received VET or MHT prior to breast cancer diagnosis, there were 6,391 not prescribed any estrogen hormonal treatment, 1,957 prescribed VET, and 133 prescribed MHT with or without VET.

During an estimated median 9.8 years’ follow-up, 1,333 women (16%) had a breast cancer recurrence. Of those, 111 had received VET, 16 MHT, and 1,206 neither. Compared with those receiving no hormonal treatment, the adjusted risk of recurrence was similar for the VET users (hazard ratio, 1.08; 95% confidence interval, 0.89-1.32).

However, there was an increased risk for recurrence associated with initiating VET during aromatase inhibitor treatment (HR, 1.39, 95% CI, 1.04-1.85). For women receiving MHT, the adjusted relative risk of recurrence with aromatase inhibitors wasn’t significant (HR, 1.05; 95% CI, 0.62-1.78).

Overall, compared with women who never used hormonal treatment, the absolute 10-year breast cancer recurrence risk was 19.2% for never-users of VET or MHT, 15.4% in VET users, and 17.1% in MHT users.
 

No differences found for mortality

Of the 8,461 women in the study, 40% (3,370) died during an estimated median follow-up of 15.2 years. Of those, 497 had received VET, 47 MHT, and 2,826 neither. Compared with the never-users of estrogen therapy, the adjusted HR for overall survival in VET users was 0.78 (95% CI, 0.71-0.87). The analysis stratified by adjuvant endocrine therapy didn’t show an increase in VET users by use of aromatase inhibitors (aHR, 0.94, 95% CI, 0.70-1.26). The same was found for women prescribed MHT, compared with never-users (aHR, 0.94; 95% CI, 0.70-1.26).

Never-users of VET or MHT had an absolute 10-year overall survival of 73.8% versus 79.5% and 80.5% among the women who used VET or MHT, respectively.

Asked to comment, Nanette Santoro, MD, professor and E. Stewart Taylor Chair of Obstetrics & Gynecology at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said in an interview: “It is important to look at this issue. These findings raise but don’t answer the question that vaginal estradiol may not be as safe as we hope it is for women with breast cancer using an aromatase inhibitor.”

However, she also pointed out that “the overall increase in risk is not enormous; mortality risk was not increased. Women need to consider that there may be some risk associated with this option in their decision making about taking it. Having a satisfying sex life is also important for many women! It is really compassionate use for quality of life, so there is always that unknown element of risk in the discussion. That unknown risk has to be balanced against the benefit that the estrogen provides.”

And, Dr. Santoro also noted that the use of prescription data poses limitations. “It cannot tell us what was going on in the minds of the patient and the prescriber. There may be differences in the prescriber’s impression of the patient’s risk of recurrence that influenced the decision to provide a prescription. ... Women using AIs [aromatase inhibitors] often get pretty severe vaginal dryness symptoms and may need more estrogen to be comfortable with intercourse, but we really cannot tell this from what is in this paper.”

Indeed, Dr. Cold said: “We admit it’s not a randomized study, but we’ve done what was possible to take [confounding] factors into account, including age, tumor size, nodal status, histology, and comorbidities.”

He suggested that a potential therapeutic approach to reducing the recurrence risk might be to switch VET-treated women to tamoxifen after 2-3 years of aromatase inhibitors.

This work was supported by Breast Friends, a part of the Danish Cancer Society. Dr. Cold received support from Breast Friends for the current study. Some of the other coauthors have pharmaceutical company disclosures. Dr. Santoro is a member of the scientific advisory boards for Astellas, Menogenix, Que Oncology, and Amazon Ember, and is a consultant for Ansh Labs.

Hormone therapy did not increase mortality in postmenopausal women treated for early-stage estrogen receptor–positive breast cancer, but, in longitudinal data from Denmark, there was a recurrence risk with vaginal estrogen therapy among those treated with aromatase inhibitors.

Genitourinary syndrome of menopause (GSM) – including vaginal dryness, burning, and urinary incontinence – is common in women treated for breast cancer. Adjuvant endocrine therapy, particularly aromatase inhibitors, can aggravate these symptoms. Both local and systemic estrogen therapy are recommended for alleviating GSM symptoms in healthy women, but concerns have been raised about their use in women with breast cancer. Previous studies examining this have suggested possible risks for breast cancer recurrence, but those studies have had several limitations including small samples and short follow-up, particularly for vaginal estrogen therapy.

In the new study, from a national Danish cohort of 8,461 postmenopausal women diagnosed between 1997 and 2004 and treated for early-stage invasive estrogen receptor–positive nonmetastatic breast cancer, neither systemic menopausal hormone therapy (MHT) nor local vaginal estrogen therapy (VET) were associated with an overall increased risk for either breast cancer recurrence or mortality. However, in the subset who had received an aromatase inhibitor – with or without tamoxifen – there was a statistically significant increased risk for breast cancer recurrence, but not mortality.

The results were published in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute.

“The data are reassuring for the majority of women with no adjuvant therapy or tamoxifen. But for those using adjuvant aromatase inhibitors, there might be a small risk,” study lead author Søren Cold, MD, PhD, senior oncologist in the department of oncology at Odense (Denmark) University Hospital, Odense, said in an interview.

Moreover, Dr. Cold noted, while this study didn’t find an increased recurrence risk with MHT for women taking aromatase inhibitors, other studies have. One in particular was stopped because of harm. The reason for the difference here is likely that the previous sample was small – just 133 women.

“Our study is mainly focusing on the use of vaginal estrogen. We had so few patients using systemic menopausal hormone therapy, those data don’t mean much. ... The risk with systemic therapy has been established. The vaginal use hasn’t been thoroughly studied before,” he noted.
 

Breast cancer recurrence elevated with VET and aromatase inhibitors

The study pool was 9,710 women who underwent complete resection for estrogen-positive breast cancer and were all allocated to 5 years of adjuvant endocrine treatment or no adjuvant treatment, according to guidelines. Overall, 3,112 received no adjuvant endocrine treatment, 2,007 were treated with tamoxifen only, 403 with an aromatase inhibitor, and 2,939 with a sequence of tamoxifen and an aromatase inhibitor.

After exclusion of 1,249 who had received VET or MHT prior to breast cancer diagnosis, there were 6,391 not prescribed any estrogen hormonal treatment, 1,957 prescribed VET, and 133 prescribed MHT with or without VET.

During an estimated median 9.8 years’ follow-up, 1,333 women (16%) had a breast cancer recurrence. Of those, 111 had received VET, 16 MHT, and 1,206 neither. Compared with those receiving no hormonal treatment, the adjusted risk of recurrence was similar for the VET users (hazard ratio, 1.08; 95% confidence interval, 0.89-1.32).

However, there was an increased risk for recurrence associated with initiating VET during aromatase inhibitor treatment (HR, 1.39, 95% CI, 1.04-1.85). For women receiving MHT, the adjusted relative risk of recurrence with aromatase inhibitors wasn’t significant (HR, 1.05; 95% CI, 0.62-1.78).

Overall, compared with women who never used hormonal treatment, the absolute 10-year breast cancer recurrence risk was 19.2% for never-users of VET or MHT, 15.4% in VET users, and 17.1% in MHT users.
 

No differences found for mortality

Of the 8,461 women in the study, 40% (3,370) died during an estimated median follow-up of 15.2 years. Of those, 497 had received VET, 47 MHT, and 2,826 neither. Compared with the never-users of estrogen therapy, the adjusted HR for overall survival in VET users was 0.78 (95% CI, 0.71-0.87). The analysis stratified by adjuvant endocrine therapy didn’t show an increase in VET users by use of aromatase inhibitors (aHR, 0.94, 95% CI, 0.70-1.26). The same was found for women prescribed MHT, compared with never-users (aHR, 0.94; 95% CI, 0.70-1.26).

Never-users of VET or MHT had an absolute 10-year overall survival of 73.8% versus 79.5% and 80.5% among the women who used VET or MHT, respectively.

Asked to comment, Nanette Santoro, MD, professor and E. Stewart Taylor Chair of Obstetrics & Gynecology at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said in an interview: “It is important to look at this issue. These findings raise but don’t answer the question that vaginal estradiol may not be as safe as we hope it is for women with breast cancer using an aromatase inhibitor.”

However, she also pointed out that “the overall increase in risk is not enormous; mortality risk was not increased. Women need to consider that there may be some risk associated with this option in their decision making about taking it. Having a satisfying sex life is also important for many women! It is really compassionate use for quality of life, so there is always that unknown element of risk in the discussion. That unknown risk has to be balanced against the benefit that the estrogen provides.”

And, Dr. Santoro also noted that the use of prescription data poses limitations. “It cannot tell us what was going on in the minds of the patient and the prescriber. There may be differences in the prescriber’s impression of the patient’s risk of recurrence that influenced the decision to provide a prescription. ... Women using AIs [aromatase inhibitors] often get pretty severe vaginal dryness symptoms and may need more estrogen to be comfortable with intercourse, but we really cannot tell this from what is in this paper.”

Indeed, Dr. Cold said: “We admit it’s not a randomized study, but we’ve done what was possible to take [confounding] factors into account, including age, tumor size, nodal status, histology, and comorbidities.”

He suggested that a potential therapeutic approach to reducing the recurrence risk might be to switch VET-treated women to tamoxifen after 2-3 years of aromatase inhibitors.

This work was supported by Breast Friends, a part of the Danish Cancer Society. Dr. Cold received support from Breast Friends for the current study. Some of the other coauthors have pharmaceutical company disclosures. Dr. Santoro is a member of the scientific advisory boards for Astellas, Menogenix, Que Oncology, and Amazon Ember, and is a consultant for Ansh Labs.

Hormone therapy did not increase mortality in postmenopausal women treated for early-stage estrogen receptor–positive breast cancer, but, in longitudinal data from Denmark, there was a recurrence risk with vaginal estrogen therapy among those treated with aromatase inhibitors.

Genitourinary syndrome of menopause (GSM) – including vaginal dryness, burning, and urinary incontinence – is common in women treated for breast cancer. Adjuvant endocrine therapy, particularly aromatase inhibitors, can aggravate these symptoms. Both local and systemic estrogen therapy are recommended for alleviating GSM symptoms in healthy women, but concerns have been raised about their use in women with breast cancer. Previous studies examining this have suggested possible risks for breast cancer recurrence, but those studies have had several limitations including small samples and short follow-up, particularly for vaginal estrogen therapy.

In the new study, from a national Danish cohort of 8,461 postmenopausal women diagnosed between 1997 and 2004 and treated for early-stage invasive estrogen receptor–positive nonmetastatic breast cancer, neither systemic menopausal hormone therapy (MHT) nor local vaginal estrogen therapy (VET) were associated with an overall increased risk for either breast cancer recurrence or mortality. However, in the subset who had received an aromatase inhibitor – with or without tamoxifen – there was a statistically significant increased risk for breast cancer recurrence, but not mortality.

The results were published in the Journal of the National Cancer Institute.

“The data are reassuring for the majority of women with no adjuvant therapy or tamoxifen. But for those using adjuvant aromatase inhibitors, there might be a small risk,” study lead author Søren Cold, MD, PhD, senior oncologist in the department of oncology at Odense (Denmark) University Hospital, Odense, said in an interview.

Moreover, Dr. Cold noted, while this study didn’t find an increased recurrence risk with MHT for women taking aromatase inhibitors, other studies have. One in particular was stopped because of harm. The reason for the difference here is likely that the previous sample was small – just 133 women.

“Our study is mainly focusing on the use of vaginal estrogen. We had so few patients using systemic menopausal hormone therapy, those data don’t mean much. ... The risk with systemic therapy has been established. The vaginal use hasn’t been thoroughly studied before,” he noted.
 

Breast cancer recurrence elevated with VET and aromatase inhibitors

The study pool was 9,710 women who underwent complete resection for estrogen-positive breast cancer and were all allocated to 5 years of adjuvant endocrine treatment or no adjuvant treatment, according to guidelines. Overall, 3,112 received no adjuvant endocrine treatment, 2,007 were treated with tamoxifen only, 403 with an aromatase inhibitor, and 2,939 with a sequence of tamoxifen and an aromatase inhibitor.

After exclusion of 1,249 who had received VET or MHT prior to breast cancer diagnosis, there were 6,391 not prescribed any estrogen hormonal treatment, 1,957 prescribed VET, and 133 prescribed MHT with or without VET.

During an estimated median 9.8 years’ follow-up, 1,333 women (16%) had a breast cancer recurrence. Of those, 111 had received VET, 16 MHT, and 1,206 neither. Compared with those receiving no hormonal treatment, the adjusted risk of recurrence was similar for the VET users (hazard ratio, 1.08; 95% confidence interval, 0.89-1.32).

However, there was an increased risk for recurrence associated with initiating VET during aromatase inhibitor treatment (HR, 1.39, 95% CI, 1.04-1.85). For women receiving MHT, the adjusted relative risk of recurrence with aromatase inhibitors wasn’t significant (HR, 1.05; 95% CI, 0.62-1.78).

Overall, compared with women who never used hormonal treatment, the absolute 10-year breast cancer recurrence risk was 19.2% for never-users of VET or MHT, 15.4% in VET users, and 17.1% in MHT users.
 

No differences found for mortality

Of the 8,461 women in the study, 40% (3,370) died during an estimated median follow-up of 15.2 years. Of those, 497 had received VET, 47 MHT, and 2,826 neither. Compared with the never-users of estrogen therapy, the adjusted HR for overall survival in VET users was 0.78 (95% CI, 0.71-0.87). The analysis stratified by adjuvant endocrine therapy didn’t show an increase in VET users by use of aromatase inhibitors (aHR, 0.94, 95% CI, 0.70-1.26). The same was found for women prescribed MHT, compared with never-users (aHR, 0.94; 95% CI, 0.70-1.26).

Never-users of VET or MHT had an absolute 10-year overall survival of 73.8% versus 79.5% and 80.5% among the women who used VET or MHT, respectively.

Asked to comment, Nanette Santoro, MD, professor and E. Stewart Taylor Chair of Obstetrics & Gynecology at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, said in an interview: “It is important to look at this issue. These findings raise but don’t answer the question that vaginal estradiol may not be as safe as we hope it is for women with breast cancer using an aromatase inhibitor.”

However, she also pointed out that “the overall increase in risk is not enormous; mortality risk was not increased. Women need to consider that there may be some risk associated with this option in their decision making about taking it. Having a satisfying sex life is also important for many women! It is really compassionate use for quality of life, so there is always that unknown element of risk in the discussion. That unknown risk has to be balanced against the benefit that the estrogen provides.”

And, Dr. Santoro also noted that the use of prescription data poses limitations. “It cannot tell us what was going on in the minds of the patient and the prescriber. There may be differences in the prescriber’s impression of the patient’s risk of recurrence that influenced the decision to provide a prescription. ... Women using AIs [aromatase inhibitors] often get pretty severe vaginal dryness symptoms and may need more estrogen to be comfortable with intercourse, but we really cannot tell this from what is in this paper.”

Indeed, Dr. Cold said: “We admit it’s not a randomized study, but we’ve done what was possible to take [confounding] factors into account, including age, tumor size, nodal status, histology, and comorbidities.”

He suggested that a potential therapeutic approach to reducing the recurrence risk might be to switch VET-treated women to tamoxifen after 2-3 years of aromatase inhibitors.

This work was supported by Breast Friends, a part of the Danish Cancer Society. Dr. Cold received support from Breast Friends for the current study. Some of the other coauthors have pharmaceutical company disclosures. Dr. Santoro is a member of the scientific advisory boards for Astellas, Menogenix, Que Oncology, and Amazon Ember, and is a consultant for Ansh Labs.

A training facility for Black doctors and nurses in St. Louis, which was the only public hospital for Black community from the late 1930s through the mid-1950s, has been at the center of many contentious community protests over the years and is facing another.

A federal lawsuit was filed recently by the nurses’ alumni of Homer G. Phillips Hospital against a St. Louis developer who is using the hospital’s name for a small for-profit urgent care health facility.

Homer G. Phillips was a St. Louis attorney and civic leader who joined with other Black leaders in 1922 to gain money for a hospital that would serve the Black community, according to online sources. He didn’t live to see the hospital named in his honor completed in 1937.

The Homer G. Phillips Nurses’ Alumni, Inc., claims that the name of the new health center, doing business as Homer G. Phillips Hospital, infringes on the alumni group’s trademark. The former Homer G. Phillips Hospital closed in 1979 despite the community’s outcry at that time, according to The Missouri Independent. The building sat vacant for many years before being converted into a senior center, Yvonne Jones, alumni president, said in an interview.

She said of the new health center, which hasn’t opened yet, “We are not against the facility; we want to protect the name and legacy” of the original hospital, which remains at the heart of the historic St. Louis Black community.

At press time, the developer and his attorneys had not returned this news organization’s request for comment.

Having a new center with the name of the iconic hospital would mean that “the goodwill and the pride it represents has been usurped,” said Zenobia Thompson, who served as head nurse of Homer G. Phillips and is now the co-chair of the Change the Name Coalition. It formed last year after Ms. Thompson and others noticed a sign posted at the site of the new health center that lists it as the Homer G. Phillips Hospital, with a trademark symbol that the nurses say it doesn’t have a right to.

The coalition, which meets weekly, sponsored a petition and has been protesting at the site of the new center twice a month, Ms. Thompson said.

“We wrote a letter to [developer] Paul McKee that the legacy not be trivialized for commercial reasons,” Ms. Thompson said.

Richard Voytas, attorney for the alumni group, said in an interview that the developer did not ask permission from the nurses to use the trademark and he didn’t know if the nurses will grant that permission now. “If they [the developers] use the name, it is very important that they honor the Homer G. Phillips legacy,” Mr. Voytas said.
 

Honoring a legacy or taking advantage of a name?

In her new book, Climbing the Ladder, Chasing the Dream: A History of Homer G. Phillips Hospital, author Candace O’Connor cites the importance of the hospital’s heritage.

“Several nurses came from rural, impoverished backgrounds and went on to get jobs all across the country,” Ms. O’Connor wrote in the book. “Because all you had to do was say, ‘I’m from Homer Phillips,’ and they would say ‘you’re hired.’ It didn’t just change the nurse. It created opportunities for whole families.”

The area where the hospital remains once boasted a grocery store, high school, college, ice cream shop, and renowned Black churches, some of which still exist as historical sites. “They built up the area for Blacks who couldn’t go anywhere else,” Ms. Jones said.

In the suit, the alumni group describes itself as a 100-year-old philanthropic organization that brought healthcare to St. Louis’ historically underserved Black community and remains very active in the area today in fundraising and community outreach efforts. The group has been fighting with the developers since learning in 2019 about the proposed use of the name that is “confusingly similar” to the trademark and immediately voiced its objections via lawsuit, demanding that another name be chosen, stating:

“…in its name and efforts to market its for-profit urgent care facility immediately within plaintiff’s primary market to directly compete with plaintiff for name recognition and goodwill, only increases the likelihood of consumer confusion and, upon information and belief, represents an effort by defendants’ to pass off their products and services as those offered by plaintiff and its members.”

“Defendants stated purpose in using the mark, or a phrase confusingly similar to the mark, for its name is to ‘honor’ the name of Homer G. Phillips and to ‘emulate his spirit andtenacity in serving the health care needs of North St. Louis,’” the suit continues.

The St. Louis Board of Aldermen passed a resolution in December calling the use of the name for the new health center an “inappropriate cultural appropriation.” Mayor Tishaura Jones and Congresswoman Cori Bush followed that with a joint statement: “Profiting off of Homer G. Phillips’ name on a small 3-bed facility that will fail to meet the needs of the most vulnerable in our communities is an insult to Homer G. Phillips’ legacy and the Black community.”

The alumni group is requesting a jury trial and damages to be determined at trial, three times the defendant’s profits or plaintiffs’ damages, whichever is greater, along with attorneys’ fees and interest.

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

A training facility for Black doctors and nurses in St. Louis, which was the only public hospital for Black community from the late 1930s through the mid-1950s, has been at the center of many contentious community protests over the years and is facing another.

A federal lawsuit was filed recently by the nurses’ alumni of Homer G. Phillips Hospital against a St. Louis developer who is using the hospital’s name for a small for-profit urgent care health facility.

Homer G. Phillips was a St. Louis attorney and civic leader who joined with other Black leaders in 1922 to gain money for a hospital that would serve the Black community, according to online sources. He didn’t live to see the hospital named in his honor completed in 1937.

The Homer G. Phillips Nurses’ Alumni, Inc., claims that the name of the new health center, doing business as Homer G. Phillips Hospital, infringes on the alumni group’s trademark. The former Homer G. Phillips Hospital closed in 1979 despite the community’s outcry at that time, according to The Missouri Independent. The building sat vacant for many years before being converted into a senior center, Yvonne Jones, alumni president, said in an interview.

She said of the new health center, which hasn’t opened yet, “We are not against the facility; we want to protect the name and legacy” of the original hospital, which remains at the heart of the historic St. Louis Black community.

At press time, the developer and his attorneys had not returned this news organization’s request for comment.

Having a new center with the name of the iconic hospital would mean that “the goodwill and the pride it represents has been usurped,” said Zenobia Thompson, who served as head nurse of Homer G. Phillips and is now the co-chair of the Change the Name Coalition. It formed last year after Ms. Thompson and others noticed a sign posted at the site of the new health center that lists it as the Homer G. Phillips Hospital, with a trademark symbol that the nurses say it doesn’t have a right to.

The coalition, which meets weekly, sponsored a petition and has been protesting at the site of the new center twice a month, Ms. Thompson said.

“We wrote a letter to [developer] Paul McKee that the legacy not be trivialized for commercial reasons,” Ms. Thompson said.

Richard Voytas, attorney for the alumni group, said in an interview that the developer did not ask permission from the nurses to use the trademark and he didn’t know if the nurses will grant that permission now. “If they [the developers] use the name, it is very important that they honor the Homer G. Phillips legacy,” Mr. Voytas said.
 

Honoring a legacy or taking advantage of a name?

In her new book, Climbing the Ladder, Chasing the Dream: A History of Homer G. Phillips Hospital, author Candace O’Connor cites the importance of the hospital’s heritage.

“Several nurses came from rural, impoverished backgrounds and went on to get jobs all across the country,” Ms. O’Connor wrote in the book. “Because all you had to do was say, ‘I’m from Homer Phillips,’ and they would say ‘you’re hired.’ It didn’t just change the nurse. It created opportunities for whole families.”

The area where the hospital remains once boasted a grocery store, high school, college, ice cream shop, and renowned Black churches, some of which still exist as historical sites. “They built up the area for Blacks who couldn’t go anywhere else,” Ms. Jones said.

In the suit, the alumni group describes itself as a 100-year-old philanthropic organization that brought healthcare to St. Louis’ historically underserved Black community and remains very active in the area today in fundraising and community outreach efforts. The group has been fighting with the developers since learning in 2019 about the proposed use of the name that is “confusingly similar” to the trademark and immediately voiced its objections via lawsuit, demanding that another name be chosen, stating:

“…in its name and efforts to market its for-profit urgent care facility immediately within plaintiff’s primary market to directly compete with plaintiff for name recognition and goodwill, only increases the likelihood of consumer confusion and, upon information and belief, represents an effort by defendants’ to pass off their products and services as those offered by plaintiff and its members.”

“Defendants stated purpose in using the mark, or a phrase confusingly similar to the mark, for its name is to ‘honor’ the name of Homer G. Phillips and to ‘emulate his spirit andtenacity in serving the health care needs of North St. Louis,’” the suit continues.

The St. Louis Board of Aldermen passed a resolution in December calling the use of the name for the new health center an “inappropriate cultural appropriation.” Mayor Tishaura Jones and Congresswoman Cori Bush followed that with a joint statement: “Profiting off of Homer G. Phillips’ name on a small 3-bed facility that will fail to meet the needs of the most vulnerable in our communities is an insult to Homer G. Phillips’ legacy and the Black community.”

The alumni group is requesting a jury trial and damages to be determined at trial, three times the defendant’s profits or plaintiffs’ damages, whichever is greater, along with attorneys’ fees and interest.

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

A training facility for Black doctors and nurses in St. Louis, which was the only public hospital for Black community from the late 1930s through the mid-1950s, has been at the center of many contentious community protests over the years and is facing another.

A federal lawsuit was filed recently by the nurses’ alumni of Homer G. Phillips Hospital against a St. Louis developer who is using the hospital’s name for a small for-profit urgent care health facility.

Homer G. Phillips was a St. Louis attorney and civic leader who joined with other Black leaders in 1922 to gain money for a hospital that would serve the Black community, according to online sources. He didn’t live to see the hospital named in his honor completed in 1937.

The Homer G. Phillips Nurses’ Alumni, Inc., claims that the name of the new health center, doing business as Homer G. Phillips Hospital, infringes on the alumni group’s trademark. The former Homer G. Phillips Hospital closed in 1979 despite the community’s outcry at that time, according to The Missouri Independent. The building sat vacant for many years before being converted into a senior center, Yvonne Jones, alumni president, said in an interview.

She said of the new health center, which hasn’t opened yet, “We are not against the facility; we want to protect the name and legacy” of the original hospital, which remains at the heart of the historic St. Louis Black community.

At press time, the developer and his attorneys had not returned this news organization’s request for comment.

Having a new center with the name of the iconic hospital would mean that “the goodwill and the pride it represents has been usurped,” said Zenobia Thompson, who served as head nurse of Homer G. Phillips and is now the co-chair of the Change the Name Coalition. It formed last year after Ms. Thompson and others noticed a sign posted at the site of the new health center that lists it as the Homer G. Phillips Hospital, with a trademark symbol that the nurses say it doesn’t have a right to.

The coalition, which meets weekly, sponsored a petition and has been protesting at the site of the new center twice a month, Ms. Thompson said.

“We wrote a letter to [developer] Paul McKee that the legacy not be trivialized for commercial reasons,” Ms. Thompson said.

Richard Voytas, attorney for the alumni group, said in an interview that the developer did not ask permission from the nurses to use the trademark and he didn’t know if the nurses will grant that permission now. “If they [the developers] use the name, it is very important that they honor the Homer G. Phillips legacy,” Mr. Voytas said.
 

Honoring a legacy or taking advantage of a name?

In her new book, Climbing the Ladder, Chasing the Dream: A History of Homer G. Phillips Hospital, author Candace O’Connor cites the importance of the hospital’s heritage.

“Several nurses came from rural, impoverished backgrounds and went on to get jobs all across the country,” Ms. O’Connor wrote in the book. “Because all you had to do was say, ‘I’m from Homer Phillips,’ and they would say ‘you’re hired.’ It didn’t just change the nurse. It created opportunities for whole families.”

The area where the hospital remains once boasted a grocery store, high school, college, ice cream shop, and renowned Black churches, some of which still exist as historical sites. “They built up the area for Blacks who couldn’t go anywhere else,” Ms. Jones said.

In the suit, the alumni group describes itself as a 100-year-old philanthropic organization that brought healthcare to St. Louis’ historically underserved Black community and remains very active in the area today in fundraising and community outreach efforts. The group has been fighting with the developers since learning in 2019 about the proposed use of the name that is “confusingly similar” to the trademark and immediately voiced its objections via lawsuit, demanding that another name be chosen, stating:

“…in its name and efforts to market its for-profit urgent care facility immediately within plaintiff’s primary market to directly compete with plaintiff for name recognition and goodwill, only increases the likelihood of consumer confusion and, upon information and belief, represents an effort by defendants’ to pass off their products and services as those offered by plaintiff and its members.”

“Defendants stated purpose in using the mark, or a phrase confusingly similar to the mark, for its name is to ‘honor’ the name of Homer G. Phillips and to ‘emulate his spirit andtenacity in serving the health care needs of North St. Louis,’” the suit continues.

The St. Louis Board of Aldermen passed a resolution in December calling the use of the name for the new health center an “inappropriate cultural appropriation.” Mayor Tishaura Jones and Congresswoman Cori Bush followed that with a joint statement: “Profiting off of Homer G. Phillips’ name on a small 3-bed facility that will fail to meet the needs of the most vulnerable in our communities is an insult to Homer G. Phillips’ legacy and the Black community.”

The alumni group is requesting a jury trial and damages to be determined at trial, three times the defendant’s profits or plaintiffs’ damages, whichever is greater, along with attorneys’ fees and interest.

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