Commentary

The United States of America is home to a rapidly growing population of more than 3.5 million Muslims. The American Muslim population is a microcosm of global Islamic culture and religious practice, with heterogeneity across age, sex, ethnic origin, immigration status, socioeconomic background, and religiosity. Muslims in America face stressors, including challenges with migration, language barriers, and acculturation.

Some Muslim subgroups (for example, Black Muslims) face additional, intersectional struggles, such as racial discrimination and multigenerational trauma. These challenges may lead to the onset or exacerbation of psychopathology. Nevertheless, the mental health needs of this segment of the American population remain unmet.

Among mental health problems, suicide is inadequately researched among American Muslims. Global studies from both Muslim majority and non-Muslim majority countries consistently indicate that Muslims have among the lowest rates of suicide in comparison with other religious and nonreligious groups. Overall, this body of literature alludes to suicide resiliency in Muslim populations.

However, these studies may not depict the reality for American Muslims. A new research letter, published by two of us (R.A. and B.Z.) and other colleagues at Stanford (Calif.) University’s Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab, highlights the possibility of risk rather than resilience among American Muslims.

In a widely sampled population-based poll, we found that across religious groups in America, Muslims were up to twice as likely to endorse a lifetime history of suicide attempt than other religious or nonreligious groups.

Because of the paucity of suicide research, further inquiry is needed to explain American Muslim evident suicide risk. Nevertheless, our research shows that discrimination and marginalization, both religious and racial, are prominent suicide risk factors in the American Muslim narrative. From 2016 to 2020, almost two-thirds of American Muslims reported facing religious discrimination every year. In 2020, Muslim children in public K-12 systems were twice as likely to face bullying, a third of whom indicated that their bully was a school staff member. While the suicide literature has yet to explore Islamophobia in depth, marginalization and discrimination are demonstrably linked to suicide.

Here are a few clinical pearls that we think will help clinicians meet the needs of these patients:

1. Emphasize the basics. Muslims may be hesitant to engage with mental health practitioners and are often unfamiliar with confidentiality standards. Some may have experience with paternalistic health care cultures where patient privacy is violated. Consequently, some Muslim patients may have concerns that medical professionals can share personal medical history with family members or allied health professionals without obtaining consent. They may worry that private matters will be spread in their community, resulting in stigmatization or discrimination.

Providers should clearly communicate the terms of confidentiality and emphasize patient autonomy over information disclosed outside of the therapeutic partnership.

2. Develop a therapeutic alliance with cultural humility. Since Muslim patients have likely witnessed discrimination, either directly or indirectly, clinicians must adopt a nonjudgmental stance when discussing cultural, religious, or moral values different from their own. Muslim patients may find defending their faith and cultural norms stigmatizing, when faced with clinicians’ assumptions.

Providers should be transparent about their knowledge limitations, ask humbly for a partnership of shared learning, and allow the patient to lead where appropriate. Clinicians should develop a working understanding of Islamic values and cultural norms. See below for Muslim Mental Health resources.

3. Assess suicide risk and ask follow-up questions. Some clinicians may not deem suicide assessments valuable for Muslim patients, believing that strong religious values may preclude them from suicide risk. New findings that suicide risk is prominent among American Muslims highlights the necessity for assessment.

Practitioners should conduct thorough suicide risk assessments, including: past and present ideation, plan, intent, means, relevant risk, and resilience factors. Muslims may be culturally inclined to deny ideation, especially when accompanied by family members. Providers should be on alert for incongruent cues in patient affect and behavior.

4. Accommodate inpatient religious practice. Muslims navigate daily religious choices, from prayers at prescribed times to observing Islamic dietary guidelines. During psychiatric admissions, many of these norms are suspended temporarily. Treatments that do not include the flexibility to address these concerns may mirror patients’ experiences with Islamophobia. For example, being asked to remove the hijab, even with good cause (that is, self-harm precautions), may trigger familiar discriminatory threats to safety and belonging.

Religious accommodations should be addressed in rounds so that all interacting staff maintain collective accountability for religious needs. Accommodations may require adaptive solutions, such as one-piece pull-on–style hijabs as safer alternatives to rectangular wraps. To prevent pathologizing religious observance, providers should consider meeting with Muslim chaplains and patient advocates, including family members or religious care providers, where appropriate.

Addressing the mental health needs of Muslim patients not only requires cultural humility but knowledge about unique challenges facing this diverse community.

To help further advance understanding of these issues, consider taking the American Psychiatric Association’s Muslim Mental Health CME course, which will be taught by Dr. Awaad. In addition, we have included a list of resources below.
 

Further reading

Moffic S et al. Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment. New York: Springer, 2019.

Keshavarzi H et al. Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy. New York: Routledge, 2020.

Ahmed S and MM Amer. Counseling Muslims: Handbook of Mental Health Issues and Interventions. New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2012.

American Psychiatric Association. Stress & Trauma Toolkit for Treating Muslims in a Changing Political and Social Environment, 2019.

American Psychiatric Association. Mental Health Disparities: Muslim Americans, 2019.

Awaad R et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2021 Jul 21. doi: 10.1001/jamapsychiatry.2021.1813.

Baca-Garcia E et al. J Affect Disord. 2011;134(1-3):327-32.

Institute for Muslim Mental Health: https://muslimmentalhealth.com/

Institute for Social Policy and Understanding. “Religious Discrimination in Multiple Forms Impacts Muslims of All Ages: American Muslim Poll, 2020.

Silverman JJ et al. Am J Psychiatry. 2015 Aug 1;172(8):798-802.

Resources

Stanford Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab: http://med.stanford.edu/psychiatry/research/MuslimMHLab.html

Maristan: https://maristan.org/

Naseeha mental health hotline: https://naseeha.org/

Dr. Awaad is a clinical associate professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford University. She also serves as associate division chief of public mental health and population sciences, and diversity section chief in the psychiatry department. In addition, Dr. Awaad is executive director of Maristan, an organization focused on using authentic traditions to meet the mental health needs of the Islamic community, and is affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford. Dr. Awaad is coeditor of “Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment” (New York: Springer, 2019), and “Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy” (New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2020).

Dr. Husain completed her medical degree from St. George’s University in True Blue, Grenada; she is currently a graduate student in the department of public health concentrating on mental health parity in the United States. She also works as a researcher at the Stanford Muslim Mental Health & Islamic Psychology Lab and as an organizer for Team Liyna, a national effort aimed at diversifying the stem cell registry responsible for more than 10,000 new registrants since 2019.

Mr. Zia, who has been affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford, is a PhD candidate and Canada-Vanier scholar in the department of clinical psychology at the University of Manitoba, Winnipeg. Mr. Zia is also a psychological associate at the New Leaf Psychology Centre in Milton, Ont. He has no relevant financial relationships.


 

The United States of America is home to a rapidly growing population of more than 3.5 million Muslims. The American Muslim population is a microcosm of global Islamic culture and religious practice, with heterogeneity across age, sex, ethnic origin, immigration status, socioeconomic background, and religiosity. Muslims in America face stressors, including challenges with migration, language barriers, and acculturation.

Some Muslim subgroups (for example, Black Muslims) face additional, intersectional struggles, such as racial discrimination and multigenerational trauma. These challenges may lead to the onset or exacerbation of psychopathology. Nevertheless, the mental health needs of this segment of the American population remain unmet.

Among mental health problems, suicide is inadequately researched among American Muslims. Global studies from both Muslim majority and non-Muslim majority countries consistently indicate that Muslims have among the lowest rates of suicide in comparison with other religious and nonreligious groups. Overall, this body of literature alludes to suicide resiliency in Muslim populations.

However, these studies may not depict the reality for American Muslims. A new research letter, published by two of us (R.A. and B.Z.) and other colleagues at Stanford (Calif.) University’s Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab, highlights the possibility of risk rather than resilience among American Muslims.

In a widely sampled population-based poll, we found that across religious groups in America, Muslims were up to twice as likely to endorse a lifetime history of suicide attempt than other religious or nonreligious groups.

Because of the paucity of suicide research, further inquiry is needed to explain American Muslim evident suicide risk. Nevertheless, our research shows that discrimination and marginalization, both religious and racial, are prominent suicide risk factors in the American Muslim narrative. From 2016 to 2020, almost two-thirds of American Muslims reported facing religious discrimination every year. In 2020, Muslim children in public K-12 systems were twice as likely to face bullying, a third of whom indicated that their bully was a school staff member. While the suicide literature has yet to explore Islamophobia in depth, marginalization and discrimination are demonstrably linked to suicide.

Here are a few clinical pearls that we think will help clinicians meet the needs of these patients:

1. Emphasize the basics. Muslims may be hesitant to engage with mental health practitioners and are often unfamiliar with confidentiality standards. Some may have experience with paternalistic health care cultures where patient privacy is violated. Consequently, some Muslim patients may have concerns that medical professionals can share personal medical history with family members or allied health professionals without obtaining consent. They may worry that private matters will be spread in their community, resulting in stigmatization or discrimination.

Providers should clearly communicate the terms of confidentiality and emphasize patient autonomy over information disclosed outside of the therapeutic partnership.

2. Develop a therapeutic alliance with cultural humility. Since Muslim patients have likely witnessed discrimination, either directly or indirectly, clinicians must adopt a nonjudgmental stance when discussing cultural, religious, or moral values different from their own. Muslim patients may find defending their faith and cultural norms stigmatizing, when faced with clinicians’ assumptions.

Providers should be transparent about their knowledge limitations, ask humbly for a partnership of shared learning, and allow the patient to lead where appropriate. Clinicians should develop a working understanding of Islamic values and cultural norms. See below for Muslim Mental Health resources.

3. Assess suicide risk and ask follow-up questions. Some clinicians may not deem suicide assessments valuable for Muslim patients, believing that strong religious values may preclude them from suicide risk. New findings that suicide risk is prominent among American Muslims highlights the necessity for assessment.

Practitioners should conduct thorough suicide risk assessments, including: past and present ideation, plan, intent, means, relevant risk, and resilience factors. Muslims may be culturally inclined to deny ideation, especially when accompanied by family members. Providers should be on alert for incongruent cues in patient affect and behavior.

4. Accommodate inpatient religious practice. Muslims navigate daily religious choices, from prayers at prescribed times to observing Islamic dietary guidelines. During psychiatric admissions, many of these norms are suspended temporarily. Treatments that do not include the flexibility to address these concerns may mirror patients’ experiences with Islamophobia. For example, being asked to remove the hijab, even with good cause (that is, self-harm precautions), may trigger familiar discriminatory threats to safety and belonging.

Religious accommodations should be addressed in rounds so that all interacting staff maintain collective accountability for religious needs. Accommodations may require adaptive solutions, such as one-piece pull-on–style hijabs as safer alternatives to rectangular wraps. To prevent pathologizing religious observance, providers should consider meeting with Muslim chaplains and patient advocates, including family members or religious care providers, where appropriate.

Addressing the mental health needs of Muslim patients not only requires cultural humility but knowledge about unique challenges facing this diverse community.

To help further advance understanding of these issues, consider taking the American Psychiatric Association’s Muslim Mental Health CME course, which will be taught by Dr. Awaad. In addition, we have included a list of resources below.
 

Further reading

Moffic S et al. Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment. New York: Springer, 2019.

Keshavarzi H et al. Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy. New York: Routledge, 2020.

Ahmed S and MM Amer. Counseling Muslims: Handbook of Mental Health Issues and Interventions. New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2012.

American Psychiatric Association. Stress & Trauma Toolkit for Treating Muslims in a Changing Political and Social Environment, 2019.

American Psychiatric Association. Mental Health Disparities: Muslim Americans, 2019.

Awaad R et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2021 Jul 21. doi: 10.1001/jamapsychiatry.2021.1813.

Baca-Garcia E et al. J Affect Disord. 2011;134(1-3):327-32.

Institute for Muslim Mental Health: https://muslimmentalhealth.com/

Institute for Social Policy and Understanding. “Religious Discrimination in Multiple Forms Impacts Muslims of All Ages: American Muslim Poll, 2020.

Silverman JJ et al. Am J Psychiatry. 2015 Aug 1;172(8):798-802.

Resources

Stanford Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab: http://med.stanford.edu/psychiatry/research/MuslimMHLab.html

Maristan: https://maristan.org/

Naseeha mental health hotline: https://naseeha.org/

Dr. Awaad is a clinical associate professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford University. She also serves as associate division chief of public mental health and population sciences, and diversity section chief in the psychiatry department. In addition, Dr. Awaad is executive director of Maristan, an organization focused on using authentic traditions to meet the mental health needs of the Islamic community, and is affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford. Dr. Awaad is coeditor of “Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment” (New York: Springer, 2019), and “Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy” (New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2020).

Dr. Husain completed her medical degree from St. George’s University in True Blue, Grenada; she is currently a graduate student in the department of public health concentrating on mental health parity in the United States. She also works as a researcher at the Stanford Muslim Mental Health & Islamic Psychology Lab and as an organizer for Team Liyna, a national effort aimed at diversifying the stem cell registry responsible for more than 10,000 new registrants since 2019.

Mr. Zia, who has been affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford, is a PhD candidate and Canada-Vanier scholar in the department of clinical psychology at the University of Manitoba, Winnipeg. Mr. Zia is also a psychological associate at the New Leaf Psychology Centre in Milton, Ont. He has no relevant financial relationships.


 

The United States of America is home to a rapidly growing population of more than 3.5 million Muslims. The American Muslim population is a microcosm of global Islamic culture and religious practice, with heterogeneity across age, sex, ethnic origin, immigration status, socioeconomic background, and religiosity. Muslims in America face stressors, including challenges with migration, language barriers, and acculturation.

Some Muslim subgroups (for example, Black Muslims) face additional, intersectional struggles, such as racial discrimination and multigenerational trauma. These challenges may lead to the onset or exacerbation of psychopathology. Nevertheless, the mental health needs of this segment of the American population remain unmet.

Among mental health problems, suicide is inadequately researched among American Muslims. Global studies from both Muslim majority and non-Muslim majority countries consistently indicate that Muslims have among the lowest rates of suicide in comparison with other religious and nonreligious groups. Overall, this body of literature alludes to suicide resiliency in Muslim populations.

However, these studies may not depict the reality for American Muslims. A new research letter, published by two of us (R.A. and B.Z.) and other colleagues at Stanford (Calif.) University’s Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab, highlights the possibility of risk rather than resilience among American Muslims.

In a widely sampled population-based poll, we found that across religious groups in America, Muslims were up to twice as likely to endorse a lifetime history of suicide attempt than other religious or nonreligious groups.

Because of the paucity of suicide research, further inquiry is needed to explain American Muslim evident suicide risk. Nevertheless, our research shows that discrimination and marginalization, both religious and racial, are prominent suicide risk factors in the American Muslim narrative. From 2016 to 2020, almost two-thirds of American Muslims reported facing religious discrimination every year. In 2020, Muslim children in public K-12 systems were twice as likely to face bullying, a third of whom indicated that their bully was a school staff member. While the suicide literature has yet to explore Islamophobia in depth, marginalization and discrimination are demonstrably linked to suicide.

Here are a few clinical pearls that we think will help clinicians meet the needs of these patients:

1. Emphasize the basics. Muslims may be hesitant to engage with mental health practitioners and are often unfamiliar with confidentiality standards. Some may have experience with paternalistic health care cultures where patient privacy is violated. Consequently, some Muslim patients may have concerns that medical professionals can share personal medical history with family members or allied health professionals without obtaining consent. They may worry that private matters will be spread in their community, resulting in stigmatization or discrimination.

Providers should clearly communicate the terms of confidentiality and emphasize patient autonomy over information disclosed outside of the therapeutic partnership.

2. Develop a therapeutic alliance with cultural humility. Since Muslim patients have likely witnessed discrimination, either directly or indirectly, clinicians must adopt a nonjudgmental stance when discussing cultural, religious, or moral values different from their own. Muslim patients may find defending their faith and cultural norms stigmatizing, when faced with clinicians’ assumptions.

Providers should be transparent about their knowledge limitations, ask humbly for a partnership of shared learning, and allow the patient to lead where appropriate. Clinicians should develop a working understanding of Islamic values and cultural norms. See below for Muslim Mental Health resources.

3. Assess suicide risk and ask follow-up questions. Some clinicians may not deem suicide assessments valuable for Muslim patients, believing that strong religious values may preclude them from suicide risk. New findings that suicide risk is prominent among American Muslims highlights the necessity for assessment.

Practitioners should conduct thorough suicide risk assessments, including: past and present ideation, plan, intent, means, relevant risk, and resilience factors. Muslims may be culturally inclined to deny ideation, especially when accompanied by family members. Providers should be on alert for incongruent cues in patient affect and behavior.

4. Accommodate inpatient religious practice. Muslims navigate daily religious choices, from prayers at prescribed times to observing Islamic dietary guidelines. During psychiatric admissions, many of these norms are suspended temporarily. Treatments that do not include the flexibility to address these concerns may mirror patients’ experiences with Islamophobia. For example, being asked to remove the hijab, even with good cause (that is, self-harm precautions), may trigger familiar discriminatory threats to safety and belonging.

Religious accommodations should be addressed in rounds so that all interacting staff maintain collective accountability for religious needs. Accommodations may require adaptive solutions, such as one-piece pull-on–style hijabs as safer alternatives to rectangular wraps. To prevent pathologizing religious observance, providers should consider meeting with Muslim chaplains and patient advocates, including family members or religious care providers, where appropriate.

Addressing the mental health needs of Muslim patients not only requires cultural humility but knowledge about unique challenges facing this diverse community.

To help further advance understanding of these issues, consider taking the American Psychiatric Association’s Muslim Mental Health CME course, which will be taught by Dr. Awaad. In addition, we have included a list of resources below.
 

Further reading

Moffic S et al. Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment. New York: Springer, 2019.

Keshavarzi H et al. Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy. New York: Routledge, 2020.

Ahmed S and MM Amer. Counseling Muslims: Handbook of Mental Health Issues and Interventions. New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2012.

American Psychiatric Association. Stress & Trauma Toolkit for Treating Muslims in a Changing Political and Social Environment, 2019.

American Psychiatric Association. Mental Health Disparities: Muslim Americans, 2019.

Awaad R et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2021 Jul 21. doi: 10.1001/jamapsychiatry.2021.1813.

Baca-Garcia E et al. J Affect Disord. 2011;134(1-3):327-32.

Institute for Muslim Mental Health: https://muslimmentalhealth.com/

Institute for Social Policy and Understanding. “Religious Discrimination in Multiple Forms Impacts Muslims of All Ages: American Muslim Poll, 2020.

Silverman JJ et al. Am J Psychiatry. 2015 Aug 1;172(8):798-802.

Resources

Stanford Muslim Mental Health and Islamic Psychology Lab: http://med.stanford.edu/psychiatry/research/MuslimMHLab.html

Maristan: https://maristan.org/

Naseeha mental health hotline: https://naseeha.org/

Dr. Awaad is a clinical associate professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford University. She also serves as associate division chief of public mental health and population sciences, and diversity section chief in the psychiatry department. In addition, Dr. Awaad is executive director of Maristan, an organization focused on using authentic traditions to meet the mental health needs of the Islamic community, and is affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford. Dr. Awaad is coeditor of “Islamophobia and Psychiatry: Recognition, Prevention and Treatment” (New York: Springer, 2019), and “Applying Islamic Principles to Clinical Mental Health Care: Introducing Traditional Islamically Integrated Psychotherapy” (New York: Routledge/Taylor & Francis Group, 2020).

Dr. Husain completed her medical degree from St. George’s University in True Blue, Grenada; she is currently a graduate student in the department of public health concentrating on mental health parity in the United States. She also works as a researcher at the Stanford Muslim Mental Health & Islamic Psychology Lab and as an organizer for Team Liyna, a national effort aimed at diversifying the stem cell registry responsible for more than 10,000 new registrants since 2019.

Mr. Zia, who has been affiliated with the department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford, is a PhD candidate and Canada-Vanier scholar in the department of clinical psychology at the University of Manitoba, Winnipeg. Mr. Zia is also a psychological associate at the New Leaf Psychology Centre in Milton, Ont. He has no relevant financial relationships.


 

As working mothers with babies in tow when the COVID-19 crisis struck, countless uncertainties threatened our already precarious work-life balance. We suddenly had many questions:

“If my daycare closes, what will I do for childcare?”

“How do I navigate diaper changes, feedings, and naps with my hectic remote work schedule?”

“If I’m constantly interrupted during the day, should I skip sleep to catch up on work and not let my colleagues down?”

As professionals who work closely with medical trainees, we knew our parenting dilemmas were being experienced even more acutely by our frontline worker colleagues.

Medical training is an increasingly common time to start a family. In a recent study, 34% of trainees in Harvard-affiliated residency programs became parents during training, and another 52% planned to do so. Trainees have higher breastfeeding initiation rates but lower continuation rates than the general population. Early nursing cessation among trainees is well documented nationally and is most often attributed to work-related barriers. These barriers range from insufficient time and limited access to facilities to a lack of support and discrimination by supervisors and peers.

This trend does not discriminate by specialty. Even among training programs known to be “family friendly,” the average duration of nursing is just 4.5 months. Residents of color are disproportionately affected by inadequate support. Studies show that Black parents breastfeed at lower rates than White parents. This has been largely attributed to structural racism and implicit bias, such as Black parents receiving less assistance initiating nursing after delivery. Adequate lactation support and inclusivity are also lacking for transgender parents who choose to breastfeed or chestfeed.

The very nature of residency training, which includes shifts that can span more than 24 hours, conflicts with many health-promoting behaviors like sleeping and eating well. However, its interference with lactation is correlated with gender. Women are disproportionately affected by the negative outcomes of unmet lactation goals. These include work-life imbalance, career dissatisfaction, and negative emotions. In a study of pediatric residents, one in four did not achieve their breastfeeding goals. Respondents reported feeling “sad, devastated, defeated, disappointed, guilty, embarrassed, frustrated, angry, like a failure, and inadequate.” Among physician mothers more broadly, discrimination related to pregnancy, parental leave, and nursing is associated with higher self-reported burnout.

Navigating nursing during residency training has more than just emotional and psychological consequences – it also has professional ones. Pursuing personal lactation goals can delay residency program completion and board certification, influence specialty selection, negatively impact research productivity, impede career advancement, and lead to misgivings about career choice.

Trainees and their families are not the only ones harmed by inadequate support in residency programs. Patients and their families are affected, too. Research suggests that physicians’ personal breastfeeding practices affect the advice they give to patients. Those who receive lactation support are more likely to help patients meet their own goals. In the previously mentioned study of pediatric residents, more than 90% of the 400 respondents said their own or their partner’s nursing experience affected their interaction with lactating patients in their clinic or hospital.

Increased lactation support is a straightforward, low-cost, high-impact intervention. It benefits trainee well-being, satisfaction, workflow, and future patient care. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education mandated in July 2019 that all residency programs provide adequate lactation facilities – including refrigeration capabilities and proximity for safe patient care. However, to our knowledge, rates of compliance with this new policy and citation for noncompliance have yet to be seen. Regardless, facilities alone are not enough. Residency programs should develop and enforce formal lactation policies.

Several institutions have successfully piloted such policies in recent years. One in particular from the University of Michigan’s surgery residency program inspired the development of a lactation policy within the internal medicine residency at our institution. These policies designate appropriate spaces at each clinical rotation site, clarify that residents are encouraged to take pumping breaks as needed – in coordination with clinical teams so as not to compromise patient care – and communicate support from supervisors.

Our program also established an informal peer mentoring program. Residents with experience pumping at work pair up with newer trainees. The policy benefits residents who wish to chestfeed or breastfeed, normalizes lactation, and empowers trainees by diminishing the need to ask for individual accommodations. It also costs the program nothing.

As more women enter medicine and more trainees become parents during residency, the need for support in this area will only continue to grow. The widespread lack of such resources, and the fact that clean and private facilities are only now being mandated, is symbolic. If even this basic need is rarely acknowledged or met, what other resident needs are being neglected?

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

As working mothers with babies in tow when the COVID-19 crisis struck, countless uncertainties threatened our already precarious work-life balance. We suddenly had many questions:

“If my daycare closes, what will I do for childcare?”

“How do I navigate diaper changes, feedings, and naps with my hectic remote work schedule?”

“If I’m constantly interrupted during the day, should I skip sleep to catch up on work and not let my colleagues down?”

As professionals who work closely with medical trainees, we knew our parenting dilemmas were being experienced even more acutely by our frontline worker colleagues.

Medical training is an increasingly common time to start a family. In a recent study, 34% of trainees in Harvard-affiliated residency programs became parents during training, and another 52% planned to do so. Trainees have higher breastfeeding initiation rates but lower continuation rates than the general population. Early nursing cessation among trainees is well documented nationally and is most often attributed to work-related barriers. These barriers range from insufficient time and limited access to facilities to a lack of support and discrimination by supervisors and peers.

This trend does not discriminate by specialty. Even among training programs known to be “family friendly,” the average duration of nursing is just 4.5 months. Residents of color are disproportionately affected by inadequate support. Studies show that Black parents breastfeed at lower rates than White parents. This has been largely attributed to structural racism and implicit bias, such as Black parents receiving less assistance initiating nursing after delivery. Adequate lactation support and inclusivity are also lacking for transgender parents who choose to breastfeed or chestfeed.

The very nature of residency training, which includes shifts that can span more than 24 hours, conflicts with many health-promoting behaviors like sleeping and eating well. However, its interference with lactation is correlated with gender. Women are disproportionately affected by the negative outcomes of unmet lactation goals. These include work-life imbalance, career dissatisfaction, and negative emotions. In a study of pediatric residents, one in four did not achieve their breastfeeding goals. Respondents reported feeling “sad, devastated, defeated, disappointed, guilty, embarrassed, frustrated, angry, like a failure, and inadequate.” Among physician mothers more broadly, discrimination related to pregnancy, parental leave, and nursing is associated with higher self-reported burnout.

Navigating nursing during residency training has more than just emotional and psychological consequences – it also has professional ones. Pursuing personal lactation goals can delay residency program completion and board certification, influence specialty selection, negatively impact research productivity, impede career advancement, and lead to misgivings about career choice.

Trainees and their families are not the only ones harmed by inadequate support in residency programs. Patients and their families are affected, too. Research suggests that physicians’ personal breastfeeding practices affect the advice they give to patients. Those who receive lactation support are more likely to help patients meet their own goals. In the previously mentioned study of pediatric residents, more than 90% of the 400 respondents said their own or their partner’s nursing experience affected their interaction with lactating patients in their clinic or hospital.

Increased lactation support is a straightforward, low-cost, high-impact intervention. It benefits trainee well-being, satisfaction, workflow, and future patient care. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education mandated in July 2019 that all residency programs provide adequate lactation facilities – including refrigeration capabilities and proximity for safe patient care. However, to our knowledge, rates of compliance with this new policy and citation for noncompliance have yet to be seen. Regardless, facilities alone are not enough. Residency programs should develop and enforce formal lactation policies.

Several institutions have successfully piloted such policies in recent years. One in particular from the University of Michigan’s surgery residency program inspired the development of a lactation policy within the internal medicine residency at our institution. These policies designate appropriate spaces at each clinical rotation site, clarify that residents are encouraged to take pumping breaks as needed – in coordination with clinical teams so as not to compromise patient care – and communicate support from supervisors.

Our program also established an informal peer mentoring program. Residents with experience pumping at work pair up with newer trainees. The policy benefits residents who wish to chestfeed or breastfeed, normalizes lactation, and empowers trainees by diminishing the need to ask for individual accommodations. It also costs the program nothing.

As more women enter medicine and more trainees become parents during residency, the need for support in this area will only continue to grow. The widespread lack of such resources, and the fact that clean and private facilities are only now being mandated, is symbolic. If even this basic need is rarely acknowledged or met, what other resident needs are being neglected?

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

As working mothers with babies in tow when the COVID-19 crisis struck, countless uncertainties threatened our already precarious work-life balance. We suddenly had many questions:

“If my daycare closes, what will I do for childcare?”

“How do I navigate diaper changes, feedings, and naps with my hectic remote work schedule?”

“If I’m constantly interrupted during the day, should I skip sleep to catch up on work and not let my colleagues down?”

As professionals who work closely with medical trainees, we knew our parenting dilemmas were being experienced even more acutely by our frontline worker colleagues.

Medical training is an increasingly common time to start a family. In a recent study, 34% of trainees in Harvard-affiliated residency programs became parents during training, and another 52% planned to do so. Trainees have higher breastfeeding initiation rates but lower continuation rates than the general population. Early nursing cessation among trainees is well documented nationally and is most often attributed to work-related barriers. These barriers range from insufficient time and limited access to facilities to a lack of support and discrimination by supervisors and peers.

This trend does not discriminate by specialty. Even among training programs known to be “family friendly,” the average duration of nursing is just 4.5 months. Residents of color are disproportionately affected by inadequate support. Studies show that Black parents breastfeed at lower rates than White parents. This has been largely attributed to structural racism and implicit bias, such as Black parents receiving less assistance initiating nursing after delivery. Adequate lactation support and inclusivity are also lacking for transgender parents who choose to breastfeed or chestfeed.

The very nature of residency training, which includes shifts that can span more than 24 hours, conflicts with many health-promoting behaviors like sleeping and eating well. However, its interference with lactation is correlated with gender. Women are disproportionately affected by the negative outcomes of unmet lactation goals. These include work-life imbalance, career dissatisfaction, and negative emotions. In a study of pediatric residents, one in four did not achieve their breastfeeding goals. Respondents reported feeling “sad, devastated, defeated, disappointed, guilty, embarrassed, frustrated, angry, like a failure, and inadequate.” Among physician mothers more broadly, discrimination related to pregnancy, parental leave, and nursing is associated with higher self-reported burnout.

Navigating nursing during residency training has more than just emotional and psychological consequences – it also has professional ones. Pursuing personal lactation goals can delay residency program completion and board certification, influence specialty selection, negatively impact research productivity, impede career advancement, and lead to misgivings about career choice.

Trainees and their families are not the only ones harmed by inadequate support in residency programs. Patients and their families are affected, too. Research suggests that physicians’ personal breastfeeding practices affect the advice they give to patients. Those who receive lactation support are more likely to help patients meet their own goals. In the previously mentioned study of pediatric residents, more than 90% of the 400 respondents said their own or their partner’s nursing experience affected their interaction with lactating patients in their clinic or hospital.

Increased lactation support is a straightforward, low-cost, high-impact intervention. It benefits trainee well-being, satisfaction, workflow, and future patient care. The Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education mandated in July 2019 that all residency programs provide adequate lactation facilities – including refrigeration capabilities and proximity for safe patient care. However, to our knowledge, rates of compliance with this new policy and citation for noncompliance have yet to be seen. Regardless, facilities alone are not enough. Residency programs should develop and enforce formal lactation policies.

Several institutions have successfully piloted such policies in recent years. One in particular from the University of Michigan’s surgery residency program inspired the development of a lactation policy within the internal medicine residency at our institution. These policies designate appropriate spaces at each clinical rotation site, clarify that residents are encouraged to take pumping breaks as needed – in coordination with clinical teams so as not to compromise patient care – and communicate support from supervisors.

Our program also established an informal peer mentoring program. Residents with experience pumping at work pair up with newer trainees. The policy benefits residents who wish to chestfeed or breastfeed, normalizes lactation, and empowers trainees by diminishing the need to ask for individual accommodations. It also costs the program nothing.

As more women enter medicine and more trainees become parents during residency, the need for support in this area will only continue to grow. The widespread lack of such resources, and the fact that clean and private facilities are only now being mandated, is symbolic. If even this basic need is rarely acknowledged or met, what other resident needs are being neglected?

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

The 47th Annual Scientific Meeting of the Society of Gynecologic Surgeons (SGS), like so many things in our modern world, endured many changes and had to stay nimble and evolve to changing times. In the end, however, SGS was able to adapt and succeed, just like a skilled gynecologic surgeon in the operating room, to deliver a fresh new type of meeting.

When we chose the meeting theme, “Working together: How collaboration enables us to better help our patients,” we anticipated a meeting discussing medical colleagues and consultants. In our forever-changed world, we knew we needed to reinterpret this to a broader social context. Our special lectures and panel discussions sought to open attendees’ eyes to disparities in health care for people of color and women.

While we highlighted the realities faced by colleagues in medicine, the topics addressed also were designed to grow awareness about struggles our patients encounter as well. Social disparities are sobering, long-standing, and sometimes require creative collaborations to achieve successful outcomes for all patients. The faculty of one of our postgraduate courses reviews in this special 2-part section to OBG Management strategies on dismantling racism, and Christine Heisler, MD, MS, and Sarah M. Temkin, MD, summarize their recent research and special lecture on gender equity in gynecologic surgery (see part 2 of this series in next month’s issue of OBG Management).

The meeting also kicked off with a postgraduate course on fibroid management, with workshops on harnessing the power of social media and lessons on leadership from a female Fortune 500 CEO, Lori Ryerkerk, offered as well. As the scientific program launched, we were once again treated to strong science on gynecologic surgery, with only a small dip in abstract submissions, despite the challenges of research during a pandemic. Mark Walters, MD, gave the inaugural lecture in his name on the crucial topic of surgical education and teaching. We also heard a special report from the SGS SOCOVID research group, led by Dr. Rosanne Kho, on gynecologic surgery during the pandemic. We also convened a virtual panel for our hybrid attendees on the benefits to patients of a multidisciplinary approach to gynecologic surgery, presented here by Cecile Ferrando, MD.

As our practices continue to grow and evolve, the introduction of innovative technologies can pose a new challenge, as Miles Murphy, MD, and members of the panel on novel gynecologic office procedures will present in this series next month.

The TeLinde keynote speaker was Janet Dombrowski, who works as a coach for many surgeons in various disciplines across the country. She spoke to the resilience gained through community and collaboration.

While our meeting theme dated to the “before” pandemic era, those who were able to be in attendance in person can attest to the value we can all place now on community and personal interactions. With experience strengthened by science, I hope this meeting summary serves to highlight the many ways in which we can collaborate to improve outcomes for ourselves in medicine and for patients. 

The 47th Annual Scientific Meeting of the Society of Gynecologic Surgeons (SGS), like so many things in our modern world, endured many changes and had to stay nimble and evolve to changing times. In the end, however, SGS was able to adapt and succeed, just like a skilled gynecologic surgeon in the operating room, to deliver a fresh new type of meeting.

When we chose the meeting theme, “Working together: How collaboration enables us to better help our patients,” we anticipated a meeting discussing medical colleagues and consultants. In our forever-changed world, we knew we needed to reinterpret this to a broader social context. Our special lectures and panel discussions sought to open attendees’ eyes to disparities in health care for people of color and women.

While we highlighted the realities faced by colleagues in medicine, the topics addressed also were designed to grow awareness about struggles our patients encounter as well. Social disparities are sobering, long-standing, and sometimes require creative collaborations to achieve successful outcomes for all patients. The faculty of one of our postgraduate courses reviews in this special 2-part section to OBG Management strategies on dismantling racism, and Christine Heisler, MD, MS, and Sarah M. Temkin, MD, summarize their recent research and special lecture on gender equity in gynecologic surgery (see part 2 of this series in next month’s issue of OBG Management).

The meeting also kicked off with a postgraduate course on fibroid management, with workshops on harnessing the power of social media and lessons on leadership from a female Fortune 500 CEO, Lori Ryerkerk, offered as well. As the scientific program launched, we were once again treated to strong science on gynecologic surgery, with only a small dip in abstract submissions, despite the challenges of research during a pandemic. Mark Walters, MD, gave the inaugural lecture in his name on the crucial topic of surgical education and teaching. We also heard a special report from the SGS SOCOVID research group, led by Dr. Rosanne Kho, on gynecologic surgery during the pandemic. We also convened a virtual panel for our hybrid attendees on the benefits to patients of a multidisciplinary approach to gynecologic surgery, presented here by Cecile Ferrando, MD.

As our practices continue to grow and evolve, the introduction of innovative technologies can pose a new challenge, as Miles Murphy, MD, and members of the panel on novel gynecologic office procedures will present in this series next month.

The TeLinde keynote speaker was Janet Dombrowski, who works as a coach for many surgeons in various disciplines across the country. She spoke to the resilience gained through community and collaboration.

While our meeting theme dated to the “before” pandemic era, those who were able to be in attendance in person can attest to the value we can all place now on community and personal interactions. With experience strengthened by science, I hope this meeting summary serves to highlight the many ways in which we can collaborate to improve outcomes for ourselves in medicine and for patients. 

The 47th Annual Scientific Meeting of the Society of Gynecologic Surgeons (SGS), like so many things in our modern world, endured many changes and had to stay nimble and evolve to changing times. In the end, however, SGS was able to adapt and succeed, just like a skilled gynecologic surgeon in the operating room, to deliver a fresh new type of meeting.

When we chose the meeting theme, “Working together: How collaboration enables us to better help our patients,” we anticipated a meeting discussing medical colleagues and consultants. In our forever-changed world, we knew we needed to reinterpret this to a broader social context. Our special lectures and panel discussions sought to open attendees’ eyes to disparities in health care for people of color and women.

While we highlighted the realities faced by colleagues in medicine, the topics addressed also were designed to grow awareness about struggles our patients encounter as well. Social disparities are sobering, long-standing, and sometimes require creative collaborations to achieve successful outcomes for all patients. The faculty of one of our postgraduate courses reviews in this special 2-part section to OBG Management strategies on dismantling racism, and Christine Heisler, MD, MS, and Sarah M. Temkin, MD, summarize their recent research and special lecture on gender equity in gynecologic surgery (see part 2 of this series in next month’s issue of OBG Management).

The meeting also kicked off with a postgraduate course on fibroid management, with workshops on harnessing the power of social media and lessons on leadership from a female Fortune 500 CEO, Lori Ryerkerk, offered as well. As the scientific program launched, we were once again treated to strong science on gynecologic surgery, with only a small dip in abstract submissions, despite the challenges of research during a pandemic. Mark Walters, MD, gave the inaugural lecture in his name on the crucial topic of surgical education and teaching. We also heard a special report from the SGS SOCOVID research group, led by Dr. Rosanne Kho, on gynecologic surgery during the pandemic. We also convened a virtual panel for our hybrid attendees on the benefits to patients of a multidisciplinary approach to gynecologic surgery, presented here by Cecile Ferrando, MD.

As our practices continue to grow and evolve, the introduction of innovative technologies can pose a new challenge, as Miles Murphy, MD, and members of the panel on novel gynecologic office procedures will present in this series next month.

The TeLinde keynote speaker was Janet Dombrowski, who works as a coach for many surgeons in various disciplines across the country. She spoke to the resilience gained through community and collaboration.

While our meeting theme dated to the “before” pandemic era, those who were able to be in attendance in person can attest to the value we can all place now on community and personal interactions. With experience strengthened by science, I hope this meeting summary serves to highlight the many ways in which we can collaborate to improve outcomes for ourselves in medicine and for patients. 

Rashes that develop during pregnancy often result in considerable anxiety or concern for patients and their families. Recognizing these pregnancy-specific dermatoses is important in identifying fetal risks as well as providing appropriate management and expert guidance for patients regarding future pregnancies. Managing cutaneous manifestations of pregnancy-related disorders is challenging and requires knowledge of potential side effects of therapy for both the mother and fetus. It also is important to appreciate the physiologic cutaneous changes of pregnancy along with their clinical significance and management.

In 2006, Ambrose-Rudolph et al¹ proposed reclassification of pregnancy-specific dermatoses, which has since been widely accepted by the academic dermatology community. The 4 most prominent disorders include intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy (ICP); pemphigoid gestationis (PG); polymorphic eruption of pregnancy (PEP), also known as pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy; and atopic eruption of pregnancy.² It is important to recognize these pregnancy-specific disorders and to understand their clinical significance. The morphology of the eruption as well as the location and timing of the onset of the rash are important clues in making an accurate diagnosis.³

Clinical Presentation

Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy presents with severe generalized pruritus, usually with involvement of the palms and soles, in the late second or third trimester. Pemphigoid gestationis presents with urticarial papules and/or bullae, often in the second or third trimester or postpartum. An important diagnostic clue for PG is involvement near the umbilicus. Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy presents with urticarial papules and plaques; onset occurs in the third trimester or postpartum and initially involves the striae while sparing the umbilicus, unlike in PG. Atopic eruption of pregnancy has an earlier onset than the other pregnancy-specific dermatoses, often in the first or second trimester, and presents with widespread eczematous lesions.³

Diagnosis

The pregnancy dermatoses with the greatest potential for fetal risks are ICP and PG; therefore, it is critical for health care providers to diagnose these dermatoses in a timely manner and initiate appropriate management. Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy is confirmed by elevated serum bile acids (ie, >10 µmol/L), often during the third trimester. The risk of fetal morbidity is high in ICP with increased bile acids crossing the placenta causing placental anoxia and impaired cardiomyocyte function.⁴ Fetal risks, including preterm delivery, meconium-stained amniotic fluid, and stillbirth, correlate with the level of bile acids in the serum.⁵ Maternal prognosis is favorable, but there is an increased association with hepatitis C and hepatobiliary disease.⁶

Diagnosis of PG is confirmed by classic biopsy results and direct immunofluorescence revealing C3 with or without IgG in a linear band along the basement membrane zone. Additionally, complement indirect immunofluorescence reveals circulating IgG anti–basement membrane zone antibodies. Pemphigoid gestationis is associated with increased fetal risks of preterm labor and intrauterine growth retardation.⁷ Clinical findings of PG may present in the fetus upon delivery due to transmission of autoantibodies across the placenta. The symptoms usually are mild.⁸ An increased risk of Graves disease has been reported in mothers with PG.

In most cases, diagnosis of PEP is based on history and morphology, but if the presentation is not classic, skin biopsy must be used to differentiate it from PG as well as more common dermatologic conditions such as contact dermatitis, drug and viral eruptions, and urticaria.

Atopic eruption of pregnancy manifests as widespread eczematous excoriated papules and plaques. Lesions of prurigo nodularis are common.

Comorbidities

It is important to be aware of specific clinical associations related to pregnancy-specific dermatoses. Pemphigoid gestationis has been associated with gestational trophoblastic tumors including hydatiform mole and choriocarcinoma.⁴ An increased risk for Graves disease has been reported in patients with PG.⁹ Patients who develop ICP have a higher incidence of hepatitis C, postpartum cholecystitis, gallstones, and nonalcoholic cirrhosis.⁸ Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy is associated with a notably higher incidence in multiple gestation pregnancies.²

Treatment and Management

Management of ICP requires an accurate and timely diagnosis, and advanced neonatal-obstetric management is critical.³ Ursodeoxycholic acid is the treatment of choice and reduces pruritus, prolongs pregnancy, and reduces fetal risk.⁴ Most stillbirths cluster at the 38th week of pregnancy, and patients with ICP and highly elevated serum bile acids (>40 µmol/L) should be considered for delivery at 37 weeks or earlier.⁵

Management of the other cutaneous disorders of pregnancy can be challenging for health care providers based on safety concerns for the fetus. Although it is important to minimize risks to the fetus, it also is important to adequately treat the mother’s cutaneous disease, which requires a solid knowledge of drug safety during pregnancy. The former US Food and Drug Administration classification system using A, B, C, D, and X pregnancy categories was replaced by the Pregnancy Lactation Label Final Rule, which provides counseling on medication safety during pregnancy.¹⁰ In 2014, Murase et al¹¹ published a review of dermatologic medication safety during pregnancy, which serves as an excellent guide.

Before instituting treatment, the therapeutic plan should be discussed with the physician managing the patient’s pregnancy. In general, topical steroids are considered safe during pregnancy, and low-potency to moderate-potency topical steroids are preferred. If possible, use of topical steroids should be limited to less than 300 g for the duration of the pregnancy. Fluticasone propionate should be avoided during pregnancy because it is not metabolized by the placenta. When systemic steroids are considered appropriate for management during pregnancy, nonhalogenated corticosteroids such as prednisone and prednisolone are preferred because they are enzymatically inactivated by the placenta, which results in a favorable maternal-fetal gradient.¹² There has been concern expressed in the medical literature that systemic steroids during the first trimester may increase the risk of cleft lip and cleft palate.^3,12 When managing pregnancy dermatoses, consideration should be given to keep prednisone exposure below 20 mg/d, and try to limit prolonged use to 7.5 mg/d. However, this may not be possible in PG.³ Vitamin D and calcium supplementation may be appropriate when patients are on prolonged systemic steroids to control disease.

Antihistamines can be used to control pruritus complicating pregnancy-associated dermatoses. First-generation antihistamines such as chlorpheniramine and diphenhydramine are preferred due to long-term safety data.^3,11,12 Loratadine is the first choice and cetirizine is the second choice if a second-generation antihistamine is preferred.³ Loratadine is preferred during breastfeeding due to less sedation.¹² High-dose antihistamines prior to delivery may cause concerns for potential side effects in the newborn, including tremulousness, irritability, and poor feeding.

Recurrence

Women with pregnancy dermatoses often are concerned about recurrence with future pregnancies. Pemphigoid gestationis may flare with subsequent pregnancies, subsequent menses, or with oral contraceptive use.³ Recurrence of PEP in subsequent pregnancies is rare and usually is less severe than the primary eruption.⁸ Often, the rare recurrent eruption of PEP is associated with multigestational pregnancies.² Mothers can anticipate a recurrence of ICP in up to 60% to 70% of future pregnancies. Patients with AEP have an underlying atopic diathesis, and recurrence in future pregnancies is not uncommon.⁸

Final Thoughts

In summary, it is important for health care providers to recognize the specific cutaneous disorders of pregnancy and their potential fetal complications. The anatomical location of onset of the dermatosis and timing of onset during pregnancy can give important clues. Appropriate management, especially with ICP, can minimize fetal complications. A fundamental knowledge of medication safety and management during pregnancy is essential. Rashes during pregnancy can cause anxiety in the mother and family and require support, comfort, and guidance.

Rashes that develop during pregnancy often result in considerable anxiety or concern for patients and their families. Recognizing these pregnancy-specific dermatoses is important in identifying fetal risks as well as providing appropriate management and expert guidance for patients regarding future pregnancies. Managing cutaneous manifestations of pregnancy-related disorders is challenging and requires knowledge of potential side effects of therapy for both the mother and fetus. It also is important to appreciate the physiologic cutaneous changes of pregnancy along with their clinical significance and management.

In 2006, Ambrose-Rudolph et al¹ proposed reclassification of pregnancy-specific dermatoses, which has since been widely accepted by the academic dermatology community. The 4 most prominent disorders include intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy (ICP); pemphigoid gestationis (PG); polymorphic eruption of pregnancy (PEP), also known as pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy; and atopic eruption of pregnancy.² It is important to recognize these pregnancy-specific disorders and to understand their clinical significance. The morphology of the eruption as well as the location and timing of the onset of the rash are important clues in making an accurate diagnosis.³

Clinical Presentation

Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy presents with severe generalized pruritus, usually with involvement of the palms and soles, in the late second or third trimester. Pemphigoid gestationis presents with urticarial papules and/or bullae, often in the second or third trimester or postpartum. An important diagnostic clue for PG is involvement near the umbilicus. Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy presents with urticarial papules and plaques; onset occurs in the third trimester or postpartum and initially involves the striae while sparing the umbilicus, unlike in PG. Atopic eruption of pregnancy has an earlier onset than the other pregnancy-specific dermatoses, often in the first or second trimester, and presents with widespread eczematous lesions.³

Diagnosis

The pregnancy dermatoses with the greatest potential for fetal risks are ICP and PG; therefore, it is critical for health care providers to diagnose these dermatoses in a timely manner and initiate appropriate management. Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy is confirmed by elevated serum bile acids (ie, >10 µmol/L), often during the third trimester. The risk of fetal morbidity is high in ICP with increased bile acids crossing the placenta causing placental anoxia and impaired cardiomyocyte function.⁴ Fetal risks, including preterm delivery, meconium-stained amniotic fluid, and stillbirth, correlate with the level of bile acids in the serum.⁵ Maternal prognosis is favorable, but there is an increased association with hepatitis C and hepatobiliary disease.⁶

Diagnosis of PG is confirmed by classic biopsy results and direct immunofluorescence revealing C3 with or without IgG in a linear band along the basement membrane zone. Additionally, complement indirect immunofluorescence reveals circulating IgG anti–basement membrane zone antibodies. Pemphigoid gestationis is associated with increased fetal risks of preterm labor and intrauterine growth retardation.⁷ Clinical findings of PG may present in the fetus upon delivery due to transmission of autoantibodies across the placenta. The symptoms usually are mild.⁸ An increased risk of Graves disease has been reported in mothers with PG.

In most cases, diagnosis of PEP is based on history and morphology, but if the presentation is not classic, skin biopsy must be used to differentiate it from PG as well as more common dermatologic conditions such as contact dermatitis, drug and viral eruptions, and urticaria.

Atopic eruption of pregnancy manifests as widespread eczematous excoriated papules and plaques. Lesions of prurigo nodularis are common.

Comorbidities

It is important to be aware of specific clinical associations related to pregnancy-specific dermatoses. Pemphigoid gestationis has been associated with gestational trophoblastic tumors including hydatiform mole and choriocarcinoma.⁴ An increased risk for Graves disease has been reported in patients with PG.⁹ Patients who develop ICP have a higher incidence of hepatitis C, postpartum cholecystitis, gallstones, and nonalcoholic cirrhosis.⁸ Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy is associated with a notably higher incidence in multiple gestation pregnancies.²

Treatment and Management

Management of ICP requires an accurate and timely diagnosis, and advanced neonatal-obstetric management is critical.³ Ursodeoxycholic acid is the treatment of choice and reduces pruritus, prolongs pregnancy, and reduces fetal risk.⁴ Most stillbirths cluster at the 38th week of pregnancy, and patients with ICP and highly elevated serum bile acids (>40 µmol/L) should be considered for delivery at 37 weeks or earlier.⁵

Management of the other cutaneous disorders of pregnancy can be challenging for health care providers based on safety concerns for the fetus. Although it is important to minimize risks to the fetus, it also is important to adequately treat the mother’s cutaneous disease, which requires a solid knowledge of drug safety during pregnancy. The former US Food and Drug Administration classification system using A, B, C, D, and X pregnancy categories was replaced by the Pregnancy Lactation Label Final Rule, which provides counseling on medication safety during pregnancy.¹⁰ In 2014, Murase et al¹¹ published a review of dermatologic medication safety during pregnancy, which serves as an excellent guide.

Before instituting treatment, the therapeutic plan should be discussed with the physician managing the patient’s pregnancy. In general, topical steroids are considered safe during pregnancy, and low-potency to moderate-potency topical steroids are preferred. If possible, use of topical steroids should be limited to less than 300 g for the duration of the pregnancy. Fluticasone propionate should be avoided during pregnancy because it is not metabolized by the placenta. When systemic steroids are considered appropriate for management during pregnancy, nonhalogenated corticosteroids such as prednisone and prednisolone are preferred because they are enzymatically inactivated by the placenta, which results in a favorable maternal-fetal gradient.¹² There has been concern expressed in the medical literature that systemic steroids during the first trimester may increase the risk of cleft lip and cleft palate.^3,12 When managing pregnancy dermatoses, consideration should be given to keep prednisone exposure below 20 mg/d, and try to limit prolonged use to 7.5 mg/d. However, this may not be possible in PG.³ Vitamin D and calcium supplementation may be appropriate when patients are on prolonged systemic steroids to control disease.

Antihistamines can be used to control pruritus complicating pregnancy-associated dermatoses. First-generation antihistamines such as chlorpheniramine and diphenhydramine are preferred due to long-term safety data.^3,11,12 Loratadine is the first choice and cetirizine is the second choice if a second-generation antihistamine is preferred.³ Loratadine is preferred during breastfeeding due to less sedation.¹² High-dose antihistamines prior to delivery may cause concerns for potential side effects in the newborn, including tremulousness, irritability, and poor feeding.

Recurrence

Women with pregnancy dermatoses often are concerned about recurrence with future pregnancies. Pemphigoid gestationis may flare with subsequent pregnancies, subsequent menses, or with oral contraceptive use.³ Recurrence of PEP in subsequent pregnancies is rare and usually is less severe than the primary eruption.⁸ Often, the rare recurrent eruption of PEP is associated with multigestational pregnancies.² Mothers can anticipate a recurrence of ICP in up to 60% to 70% of future pregnancies. Patients with AEP have an underlying atopic diathesis, and recurrence in future pregnancies is not uncommon.⁸

Final Thoughts

In summary, it is important for health care providers to recognize the specific cutaneous disorders of pregnancy and their potential fetal complications. The anatomical location of onset of the dermatosis and timing of onset during pregnancy can give important clues. Appropriate management, especially with ICP, can minimize fetal complications. A fundamental knowledge of medication safety and management during pregnancy is essential. Rashes during pregnancy can cause anxiety in the mother and family and require support, comfort, and guidance.

Rashes that develop during pregnancy often result in considerable anxiety or concern for patients and their families. Recognizing these pregnancy-specific dermatoses is important in identifying fetal risks as well as providing appropriate management and expert guidance for patients regarding future pregnancies. Managing cutaneous manifestations of pregnancy-related disorders is challenging and requires knowledge of potential side effects of therapy for both the mother and fetus. It also is important to appreciate the physiologic cutaneous changes of pregnancy along with their clinical significance and management.

In 2006, Ambrose-Rudolph et al¹ proposed reclassification of pregnancy-specific dermatoses, which has since been widely accepted by the academic dermatology community. The 4 most prominent disorders include intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy (ICP); pemphigoid gestationis (PG); polymorphic eruption of pregnancy (PEP), also known as pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy; and atopic eruption of pregnancy.² It is important to recognize these pregnancy-specific disorders and to understand their clinical significance. The morphology of the eruption as well as the location and timing of the onset of the rash are important clues in making an accurate diagnosis.³

Clinical Presentation

Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy presents with severe generalized pruritus, usually with involvement of the palms and soles, in the late second or third trimester. Pemphigoid gestationis presents with urticarial papules and/or bullae, often in the second or third trimester or postpartum. An important diagnostic clue for PG is involvement near the umbilicus. Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy presents with urticarial papules and plaques; onset occurs in the third trimester or postpartum and initially involves the striae while sparing the umbilicus, unlike in PG. Atopic eruption of pregnancy has an earlier onset than the other pregnancy-specific dermatoses, often in the first or second trimester, and presents with widespread eczematous lesions.³

Diagnosis

The pregnancy dermatoses with the greatest potential for fetal risks are ICP and PG; therefore, it is critical for health care providers to diagnose these dermatoses in a timely manner and initiate appropriate management. Intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy is confirmed by elevated serum bile acids (ie, >10 µmol/L), often during the third trimester. The risk of fetal morbidity is high in ICP with increased bile acids crossing the placenta causing placental anoxia and impaired cardiomyocyte function.⁴ Fetal risks, including preterm delivery, meconium-stained amniotic fluid, and stillbirth, correlate with the level of bile acids in the serum.⁵ Maternal prognosis is favorable, but there is an increased association with hepatitis C and hepatobiliary disease.⁶

Diagnosis of PG is confirmed by classic biopsy results and direct immunofluorescence revealing C3 with or without IgG in a linear band along the basement membrane zone. Additionally, complement indirect immunofluorescence reveals circulating IgG anti–basement membrane zone antibodies. Pemphigoid gestationis is associated with increased fetal risks of preterm labor and intrauterine growth retardation.⁷ Clinical findings of PG may present in the fetus upon delivery due to transmission of autoantibodies across the placenta. The symptoms usually are mild.⁸ An increased risk of Graves disease has been reported in mothers with PG.

In most cases, diagnosis of PEP is based on history and morphology, but if the presentation is not classic, skin biopsy must be used to differentiate it from PG as well as more common dermatologic conditions such as contact dermatitis, drug and viral eruptions, and urticaria.

Atopic eruption of pregnancy manifests as widespread eczematous excoriated papules and plaques. Lesions of prurigo nodularis are common.

Comorbidities

It is important to be aware of specific clinical associations related to pregnancy-specific dermatoses. Pemphigoid gestationis has been associated with gestational trophoblastic tumors including hydatiform mole and choriocarcinoma.⁴ An increased risk for Graves disease has been reported in patients with PG.⁹ Patients who develop ICP have a higher incidence of hepatitis C, postpartum cholecystitis, gallstones, and nonalcoholic cirrhosis.⁸ Polymorphic eruption of pregnancy is associated with a notably higher incidence in multiple gestation pregnancies.²

Treatment and Management

Management of ICP requires an accurate and timely diagnosis, and advanced neonatal-obstetric management is critical.³ Ursodeoxycholic acid is the treatment of choice and reduces pruritus, prolongs pregnancy, and reduces fetal risk.⁴ Most stillbirths cluster at the 38th week of pregnancy, and patients with ICP and highly elevated serum bile acids (>40 µmol/L) should be considered for delivery at 37 weeks or earlier.⁵

Management of the other cutaneous disorders of pregnancy can be challenging for health care providers based on safety concerns for the fetus. Although it is important to minimize risks to the fetus, it also is important to adequately treat the mother’s cutaneous disease, which requires a solid knowledge of drug safety during pregnancy. The former US Food and Drug Administration classification system using A, B, C, D, and X pregnancy categories was replaced by the Pregnancy Lactation Label Final Rule, which provides counseling on medication safety during pregnancy.¹⁰ In 2014, Murase et al¹¹ published a review of dermatologic medication safety during pregnancy, which serves as an excellent guide.

Before instituting treatment, the therapeutic plan should be discussed with the physician managing the patient’s pregnancy. In general, topical steroids are considered safe during pregnancy, and low-potency to moderate-potency topical steroids are preferred. If possible, use of topical steroids should be limited to less than 300 g for the duration of the pregnancy. Fluticasone propionate should be avoided during pregnancy because it is not metabolized by the placenta. When systemic steroids are considered appropriate for management during pregnancy, nonhalogenated corticosteroids such as prednisone and prednisolone are preferred because they are enzymatically inactivated by the placenta, which results in a favorable maternal-fetal gradient.¹² There has been concern expressed in the medical literature that systemic steroids during the first trimester may increase the risk of cleft lip and cleft palate.^3,12 When managing pregnancy dermatoses, consideration should be given to keep prednisone exposure below 20 mg/d, and try to limit prolonged use to 7.5 mg/d. However, this may not be possible in PG.³ Vitamin D and calcium supplementation may be appropriate when patients are on prolonged systemic steroids to control disease.

Antihistamines can be used to control pruritus complicating pregnancy-associated dermatoses. First-generation antihistamines such as chlorpheniramine and diphenhydramine are preferred due to long-term safety data.^3,11,12 Loratadine is the first choice and cetirizine is the second choice if a second-generation antihistamine is preferred.³ Loratadine is preferred during breastfeeding due to less sedation.¹² High-dose antihistamines prior to delivery may cause concerns for potential side effects in the newborn, including tremulousness, irritability, and poor feeding.

Recurrence

Women with pregnancy dermatoses often are concerned about recurrence with future pregnancies. Pemphigoid gestationis may flare with subsequent pregnancies, subsequent menses, or with oral contraceptive use.³ Recurrence of PEP in subsequent pregnancies is rare and usually is less severe than the primary eruption.⁸ Often, the rare recurrent eruption of PEP is associated with multigestational pregnancies.² Mothers can anticipate a recurrence of ICP in up to 60% to 70% of future pregnancies. Patients with AEP have an underlying atopic diathesis, and recurrence in future pregnancies is not uncommon.⁸

Final Thoughts

In summary, it is important for health care providers to recognize the specific cutaneous disorders of pregnancy and their potential fetal complications. The anatomical location of onset of the dermatosis and timing of onset during pregnancy can give important clues. Appropriate management, especially with ICP, can minimize fetal complications. A fundamental knowledge of medication safety and management during pregnancy is essential. Rashes during pregnancy can cause anxiety in the mother and family and require support, comfort, and guidance.

Amid the parades and speeches that commemorate Pride Month across the United States, a remarkable event occurred in Florida at the Orlando Veterans Affairs Healthcare System. At the 11th annual celebration of Pride on June 21, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary Denis R. McDonough made a historic announcement, “We are taking the first necessary steps to expand VA’s care to include gender-confirmation surgery, thus allowing transgender vets to go through the full gender-confirmation process with VA by their side.”²

The proclamation reflected the results of a review of VA transgender policies that McDonough had ordered in February 2021 to coordinate VA policies with those of the US Department of Defense (DoD) and to actualize President Biden’s January 2021 executive order that prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity.^3,4 In an interview with NPR shortly after the Orlando commemoration, Secretary McDonough reported that the governing body overseeing VA health care services unanimously endorsed the proposal.⁵ The National Center for Transgender Equity estimates there are 134,000 transgender veterans.⁶ VA authorities believe 4000 transgender veterans may be interested in obtaining the new gender-affirming benefit when it is available, and Secretary McDonough indicated that about 543 veterans a year soon might be eligible.^5,7

Transgender veterans and their supporters along with many of the VA practitioners who care for them had long waited and hoped for this announcement. The Secretary ended a too-long period in which transgender veterans encountered enormous practical, financial, and personal obstacles, causing frustration and despair on their journey to becoming who they knew they are. Although VA previously did not provide gender-affirmation surgery, it did deliver other forms of transgender care to veterans, such as hormone therapy and other transition-related services. Yet it was painful for transgender veterans and their health care professionals (HCPs) to see that under the VA medical benefits package prior to Secretary McDonough’s historic announcement, gender-affirmation surgery was not deemed care “to promote, preserve, or restore the health of the individual.”⁸

Similarly, the decision is the beginning of the end of an ethical dilemma with which many VA clinicians struggled: They had the competence to perform gender-affirming surgery, but VA policy prohibited them from providing it to their patients.^9,10 The 2013 directive issued under the Obama administration made the ethics of gender-confirmation surgery even more complex. A VA surgeon could perform “medically-indicated procedures” or treat “other medical conditions” even if it simultaneously furthered gender transition. What the surgeon could not perform was a procedure solely for the purpose of gender transition. Because transgender veterans seeking gender-affirmation surgery were forced to go outside the VA system and use their resources to pay for the surgery, VA did permit practitioners to perform preoperative and postoperative treatment, including treating surgical complications of an outside gender-affirmation surgery. VA HCPs were placed in a catch-22 situation that pitted their duty to care in accordance with the preferences and interests of the veteran against their obligation to practice and adhere to VA policy and federal regulation.⁸ With his Pride-month speech, Secretary McDonough resolved this conflict for VA HCPs and made a strong public declaration VA should and will provide gender-affirming surgery that can promote, preserve, and restore the health of transgender veterans.

Secretary McDonough called the move to formally change the rule regarding gender-affirming surgery “the right thing to do” and emphasized that it was “life-saving.”⁷ This last remark was in recognition of the strong evidence demonstrating the adverse psychological impact on transgender veterans of the previous position.²

Denial of gender-confirmation surgery was not the only health care inequity identified among transgender veterans. Research inside and outside VA has found significant health disparities between transgender and nontransgender veterans, including higher rates of depression, suicidality, serious mental illness, posttraumatic stress disorder, military sexual trauma, and homelessness.¹¹ The provision of gender-affirming surgery to transgender veterans whether through VA hospitals or through partnerships with academic affiliates and the community is a major step to remedy these disparities. A 2019 systematic review found that gender-affirming surgery is far from cosmetic: It leads to marked improvement in many of the mental health problems transgender persons experience.¹²

Anyone who has experienced the snail’s pace of change in the behemoth VA bureaucracy knows that this initial movement is only the beginning of the laborious federal process of changing the regulation that currently prohibits VA from offering and paying for gender-confirmation surgery under the VA medical benefits package. Once the regulation is changed, then VA will be empowered to establish policy that in Secretary McDonough’s words, “will ensure the equitable treatment and safety of transgender veterans.”² The decision to eventually provide gender-confirmation surgery as part of VA care was an important aspect of the agency’s overall attempt to make VA more welcome to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) veterans. During the Orlando speech, Secretary McDonough also announced that VA was changing the name of its LGBT program to LGBTQ+ to clearly communicate that all veterans are included in VA care.²

The announcement sends a powerful message of hope, which was a central theme of slain San Francisco supervisor, Harvey Milk, an early and influential LGBTQ activist and advocate.¹ But as always in our polarized country, there was immediate opposition to the proposal arguing that the surgery would place transgender veterans at greater risk of depression and suicide, was not compatible with the VA mission and diverts VA funding from meeting more legitimate care needs in a timely manner.¹¹ It is a sad irony that transgender veterans defended the freedom of their opponents to express their opinion and had to fight this long and hard for their liberty to live as they choose.

Amid the parades and speeches that commemorate Pride Month across the United States, a remarkable event occurred in Florida at the Orlando Veterans Affairs Healthcare System. At the 11th annual celebration of Pride on June 21, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary Denis R. McDonough made a historic announcement, “We are taking the first necessary steps to expand VA’s care to include gender-confirmation surgery, thus allowing transgender vets to go through the full gender-confirmation process with VA by their side.”²

The proclamation reflected the results of a review of VA transgender policies that McDonough had ordered in February 2021 to coordinate VA policies with those of the US Department of Defense (DoD) and to actualize President Biden’s January 2021 executive order that prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity.^3,4 In an interview with NPR shortly after the Orlando commemoration, Secretary McDonough reported that the governing body overseeing VA health care services unanimously endorsed the proposal.⁵ The National Center for Transgender Equity estimates there are 134,000 transgender veterans.⁶ VA authorities believe 4000 transgender veterans may be interested in obtaining the new gender-affirming benefit when it is available, and Secretary McDonough indicated that about 543 veterans a year soon might be eligible.^5,7

Transgender veterans and their supporters along with many of the VA practitioners who care for them had long waited and hoped for this announcement. The Secretary ended a too-long period in which transgender veterans encountered enormous practical, financial, and personal obstacles, causing frustration and despair on their journey to becoming who they knew they are. Although VA previously did not provide gender-affirmation surgery, it did deliver other forms of transgender care to veterans, such as hormone therapy and other transition-related services. Yet it was painful for transgender veterans and their health care professionals (HCPs) to see that under the VA medical benefits package prior to Secretary McDonough’s historic announcement, gender-affirmation surgery was not deemed care “to promote, preserve, or restore the health of the individual.”⁸

Similarly, the decision is the beginning of the end of an ethical dilemma with which many VA clinicians struggled: They had the competence to perform gender-affirming surgery, but VA policy prohibited them from providing it to their patients.^9,10 The 2013 directive issued under the Obama administration made the ethics of gender-confirmation surgery even more complex. A VA surgeon could perform “medically-indicated procedures” or treat “other medical conditions” even if it simultaneously furthered gender transition. What the surgeon could not perform was a procedure solely for the purpose of gender transition. Because transgender veterans seeking gender-affirmation surgery were forced to go outside the VA system and use their resources to pay for the surgery, VA did permit practitioners to perform preoperative and postoperative treatment, including treating surgical complications of an outside gender-affirmation surgery. VA HCPs were placed in a catch-22 situation that pitted their duty to care in accordance with the preferences and interests of the veteran against their obligation to practice and adhere to VA policy and federal regulation.⁸ With his Pride-month speech, Secretary McDonough resolved this conflict for VA HCPs and made a strong public declaration VA should and will provide gender-affirming surgery that can promote, preserve, and restore the health of transgender veterans.

Secretary McDonough called the move to formally change the rule regarding gender-affirming surgery “the right thing to do” and emphasized that it was “life-saving.”⁷ This last remark was in recognition of the strong evidence demonstrating the adverse psychological impact on transgender veterans of the previous position.²

Denial of gender-confirmation surgery was not the only health care inequity identified among transgender veterans. Research inside and outside VA has found significant health disparities between transgender and nontransgender veterans, including higher rates of depression, suicidality, serious mental illness, posttraumatic stress disorder, military sexual trauma, and homelessness.¹¹ The provision of gender-affirming surgery to transgender veterans whether through VA hospitals or through partnerships with academic affiliates and the community is a major step to remedy these disparities. A 2019 systematic review found that gender-affirming surgery is far from cosmetic: It leads to marked improvement in many of the mental health problems transgender persons experience.¹²

Anyone who has experienced the snail’s pace of change in the behemoth VA bureaucracy knows that this initial movement is only the beginning of the laborious federal process of changing the regulation that currently prohibits VA from offering and paying for gender-confirmation surgery under the VA medical benefits package. Once the regulation is changed, then VA will be empowered to establish policy that in Secretary McDonough’s words, “will ensure the equitable treatment and safety of transgender veterans.”² The decision to eventually provide gender-confirmation surgery as part of VA care was an important aspect of the agency’s overall attempt to make VA more welcome to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) veterans. During the Orlando speech, Secretary McDonough also announced that VA was changing the name of its LGBT program to LGBTQ+ to clearly communicate that all veterans are included in VA care.²

The announcement sends a powerful message of hope, which was a central theme of slain San Francisco supervisor, Harvey Milk, an early and influential LGBTQ activist and advocate.¹ But as always in our polarized country, there was immediate opposition to the proposal arguing that the surgery would place transgender veterans at greater risk of depression and suicide, was not compatible with the VA mission and diverts VA funding from meeting more legitimate care needs in a timely manner.¹¹ It is a sad irony that transgender veterans defended the freedom of their opponents to express their opinion and had to fight this long and hard for their liberty to live as they choose.

Amid the parades and speeches that commemorate Pride Month across the United States, a remarkable event occurred in Florida at the Orlando Veterans Affairs Healthcare System. At the 11th annual celebration of Pride on June 21, US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Secretary Denis R. McDonough made a historic announcement, “We are taking the first necessary steps to expand VA’s care to include gender-confirmation surgery, thus allowing transgender vets to go through the full gender-confirmation process with VA by their side.”²

The proclamation reflected the results of a review of VA transgender policies that McDonough had ordered in February 2021 to coordinate VA policies with those of the US Department of Defense (DoD) and to actualize President Biden’s January 2021 executive order that prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity.^3,4 In an interview with NPR shortly after the Orlando commemoration, Secretary McDonough reported that the governing body overseeing VA health care services unanimously endorsed the proposal.⁵ The National Center for Transgender Equity estimates there are 134,000 transgender veterans.⁶ VA authorities believe 4000 transgender veterans may be interested in obtaining the new gender-affirming benefit when it is available, and Secretary McDonough indicated that about 543 veterans a year soon might be eligible.^5,7

Transgender veterans and their supporters along with many of the VA practitioners who care for them had long waited and hoped for this announcement. The Secretary ended a too-long period in which transgender veterans encountered enormous practical, financial, and personal obstacles, causing frustration and despair on their journey to becoming who they knew they are. Although VA previously did not provide gender-affirmation surgery, it did deliver other forms of transgender care to veterans, such as hormone therapy and other transition-related services. Yet it was painful for transgender veterans and their health care professionals (HCPs) to see that under the VA medical benefits package prior to Secretary McDonough’s historic announcement, gender-affirmation surgery was not deemed care “to promote, preserve, or restore the health of the individual.”⁸

Similarly, the decision is the beginning of the end of an ethical dilemma with which many VA clinicians struggled: They had the competence to perform gender-affirming surgery, but VA policy prohibited them from providing it to their patients.^9,10 The 2013 directive issued under the Obama administration made the ethics of gender-confirmation surgery even more complex. A VA surgeon could perform “medically-indicated procedures” or treat “other medical conditions” even if it simultaneously furthered gender transition. What the surgeon could not perform was a procedure solely for the purpose of gender transition. Because transgender veterans seeking gender-affirmation surgery were forced to go outside the VA system and use their resources to pay for the surgery, VA did permit practitioners to perform preoperative and postoperative treatment, including treating surgical complications of an outside gender-affirmation surgery. VA HCPs were placed in a catch-22 situation that pitted their duty to care in accordance with the preferences and interests of the veteran against their obligation to practice and adhere to VA policy and federal regulation.⁸ With his Pride-month speech, Secretary McDonough resolved this conflict for VA HCPs and made a strong public declaration VA should and will provide gender-affirming surgery that can promote, preserve, and restore the health of transgender veterans.

Secretary McDonough called the move to formally change the rule regarding gender-affirming surgery “the right thing to do” and emphasized that it was “life-saving.”⁷ This last remark was in recognition of the strong evidence demonstrating the adverse psychological impact on transgender veterans of the previous position.²

Denial of gender-confirmation surgery was not the only health care inequity identified among transgender veterans. Research inside and outside VA has found significant health disparities between transgender and nontransgender veterans, including higher rates of depression, suicidality, serious mental illness, posttraumatic stress disorder, military sexual trauma, and homelessness.¹¹ The provision of gender-affirming surgery to transgender veterans whether through VA hospitals or through partnerships with academic affiliates and the community is a major step to remedy these disparities. A 2019 systematic review found that gender-affirming surgery is far from cosmetic: It leads to marked improvement in many of the mental health problems transgender persons experience.¹²

Anyone who has experienced the snail’s pace of change in the behemoth VA bureaucracy knows that this initial movement is only the beginning of the laborious federal process of changing the regulation that currently prohibits VA from offering and paying for gender-confirmation surgery under the VA medical benefits package. Once the regulation is changed, then VA will be empowered to establish policy that in Secretary McDonough’s words, “will ensure the equitable treatment and safety of transgender veterans.”² The decision to eventually provide gender-confirmation surgery as part of VA care was an important aspect of the agency’s overall attempt to make VA more welcome to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) veterans. During the Orlando speech, Secretary McDonough also announced that VA was changing the name of its LGBT program to LGBTQ+ to clearly communicate that all veterans are included in VA care.²

The announcement sends a powerful message of hope, which was a central theme of slain San Francisco supervisor, Harvey Milk, an early and influential LGBTQ activist and advocate.¹ But as always in our polarized country, there was immediate opposition to the proposal arguing that the surgery would place transgender veterans at greater risk of depression and suicide, was not compatible with the VA mission and diverts VA funding from meeting more legitimate care needs in a timely manner.¹¹ It is a sad irony that transgender veterans defended the freedom of their opponents to express their opinion and had to fight this long and hard for their liberty to live as they choose.

What do you want to be when you grow up? What kind of doctor do you want to be? These are common conversation starters that we probably have all heard at some point in our lives.

But perhaps these are not the most thought-provoking or insightful questions to ask or be asked.

Instead, “What is your passion?” or “What inspires/motivates you?” or “What makes you want to get out of bed in the morning?” or “What creates flow for you?” may be more thoughtful questions that encourage greater self-reflection.

There is a Japanese concept called ikigai that loosely translates to “a reason for being.” This framework suggests that one should attempt to find the intersection of four things:

• One’s interests.
• One’s abilities/talents.
• What the world needs.
• What one can be paid for.

When any two of these intersect, you will have the following:

A passion: something that interests you and you excel at.

A profession: something that you excel at and are paid for.

A vocation: something that the world needs and that you’re paid for.

A mission: something that interests you and that the world needs.

Finding that “sweet spot” that intersects all four is the ideal prescribed by ikigai.

Ultimately, ikigai challenges us to find purpose, and finding this alignment of purpose can subsequently help us plan our professional and personal lives.

Of note, several of the world’s communities that are known for longevity/higher proportion of centenarians are linked by the common concept of ikigai. While there isn’t strong evidence that this phenomenon is correlated with or predictive of longevity, I believe we can all agree that finding purpose can lead to increased satisfaction, happiness, and perhaps less stress.

Achieving this sweet spot that satisfies all conditions above is undoubtedly easier said than done when placed in the context of real life, as there are often competing interests. Your purpose may align with a job that doesn’t pay the bills, or the job that provides financial stability may be uninteresting work to you. The path there may be winding, but eventually, with enough trial and error, I think we can all carve out a version of ikigai for ourselves.

I’ve had conversations with more senior physicians who have made a great impact in their fields and could certainly retire yesterday if they desired. When asked why they keep showing up, it is usually some version of “this is what I’m meant to do” or “this is my purpose” or “this is my joy.” In some ways, if you find true joy in what you do, it becomes part of your identity (in a positive way).

Though our health care system and culture are certainly far from perfect, many of us went to medical school because this was/is our “calling” – vocational, if you will. For me personally, it was a unique intersection of being able to serve others, use my abilities in math/science, and make a living.

In some ways, being a physician or health care worker puts us in a unique position to serve and provide services that the world needs. But with burnout rampant within the physician community, it is even more important to understand ourselves, work out our own version of ikigai, and make sure that we are living it daily.

Dr Thachil is a noninvasive cardiologist and assistant professor of medicine at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, New York. She is a graduate of Jefferson Medical College and completed cardiology training at Mount Sinai Hospital. She is a fellow of the American College of Cardiology.

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

What do you want to be when you grow up? What kind of doctor do you want to be? These are common conversation starters that we probably have all heard at some point in our lives.

But perhaps these are not the most thought-provoking or insightful questions to ask or be asked.

Instead, “What is your passion?” or “What inspires/motivates you?” or “What makes you want to get out of bed in the morning?” or “What creates flow for you?” may be more thoughtful questions that encourage greater self-reflection.

There is a Japanese concept called ikigai that loosely translates to “a reason for being.” This framework suggests that one should attempt to find the intersection of four things:

• One’s interests.
• One’s abilities/talents.
• What the world needs.
• What one can be paid for.

When any two of these intersect, you will have the following:

A passion: something that interests you and you excel at.

A profession: something that you excel at and are paid for.

A vocation: something that the world needs and that you’re paid for.

A mission: something that interests you and that the world needs.

Finding that “sweet spot” that intersects all four is the ideal prescribed by ikigai.

Ultimately, ikigai challenges us to find purpose, and finding this alignment of purpose can subsequently help us plan our professional and personal lives.

Of note, several of the world’s communities that are known for longevity/higher proportion of centenarians are linked by the common concept of ikigai. While there isn’t strong evidence that this phenomenon is correlated with or predictive of longevity, I believe we can all agree that finding purpose can lead to increased satisfaction, happiness, and perhaps less stress.

Achieving this sweet spot that satisfies all conditions above is undoubtedly easier said than done when placed in the context of real life, as there are often competing interests. Your purpose may align with a job that doesn’t pay the bills, or the job that provides financial stability may be uninteresting work to you. The path there may be winding, but eventually, with enough trial and error, I think we can all carve out a version of ikigai for ourselves.

I’ve had conversations with more senior physicians who have made a great impact in their fields and could certainly retire yesterday if they desired. When asked why they keep showing up, it is usually some version of “this is what I’m meant to do” or “this is my purpose” or “this is my joy.” In some ways, if you find true joy in what you do, it becomes part of your identity (in a positive way).

Though our health care system and culture are certainly far from perfect, many of us went to medical school because this was/is our “calling” – vocational, if you will. For me personally, it was a unique intersection of being able to serve others, use my abilities in math/science, and make a living.

In some ways, being a physician or health care worker puts us in a unique position to serve and provide services that the world needs. But with burnout rampant within the physician community, it is even more important to understand ourselves, work out our own version of ikigai, and make sure that we are living it daily.

Dr Thachil is a noninvasive cardiologist and assistant professor of medicine at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, New York. She is a graduate of Jefferson Medical College and completed cardiology training at Mount Sinai Hospital. She is a fellow of the American College of Cardiology.

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

What do you want to be when you grow up? What kind of doctor do you want to be? These are common conversation starters that we probably have all heard at some point in our lives.

But perhaps these are not the most thought-provoking or insightful questions to ask or be asked.

Instead, “What is your passion?” or “What inspires/motivates you?” or “What makes you want to get out of bed in the morning?” or “What creates flow for you?” may be more thoughtful questions that encourage greater self-reflection.

There is a Japanese concept called ikigai that loosely translates to “a reason for being.” This framework suggests that one should attempt to find the intersection of four things:

• One’s interests.
• One’s abilities/talents.
• What the world needs.
• What one can be paid for.

When any two of these intersect, you will have the following:

A passion: something that interests you and you excel at.

A profession: something that you excel at and are paid for.

A vocation: something that the world needs and that you’re paid for.

A mission: something that interests you and that the world needs.

Finding that “sweet spot” that intersects all four is the ideal prescribed by ikigai.

Ultimately, ikigai challenges us to find purpose, and finding this alignment of purpose can subsequently help us plan our professional and personal lives.

Of note, several of the world’s communities that are known for longevity/higher proportion of centenarians are linked by the common concept of ikigai. While there isn’t strong evidence that this phenomenon is correlated with or predictive of longevity, I believe we can all agree that finding purpose can lead to increased satisfaction, happiness, and perhaps less stress.

Achieving this sweet spot that satisfies all conditions above is undoubtedly easier said than done when placed in the context of real life, as there are often competing interests. Your purpose may align with a job that doesn’t pay the bills, or the job that provides financial stability may be uninteresting work to you. The path there may be winding, but eventually, with enough trial and error, I think we can all carve out a version of ikigai for ourselves.

I’ve had conversations with more senior physicians who have made a great impact in their fields and could certainly retire yesterday if they desired. When asked why they keep showing up, it is usually some version of “this is what I’m meant to do” or “this is my purpose” or “this is my joy.” In some ways, if you find true joy in what you do, it becomes part of your identity (in a positive way).

Though our health care system and culture are certainly far from perfect, many of us went to medical school because this was/is our “calling” – vocational, if you will. For me personally, it was a unique intersection of being able to serve others, use my abilities in math/science, and make a living.

In some ways, being a physician or health care worker puts us in a unique position to serve and provide services that the world needs. But with burnout rampant within the physician community, it is even more important to understand ourselves, work out our own version of ikigai, and make sure that we are living it daily.

Dr Thachil is a noninvasive cardiologist and assistant professor of medicine at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, New York. She is a graduate of Jefferson Medical College and completed cardiology training at Mount Sinai Hospital. She is a fellow of the American College of Cardiology.

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

Over the 10 years we’ve been writing this column, we have often found inspiration for topics while traveling – especially while flying. This is not just because of the idle time spent in the air, but instead because of the many ways that air travel and health care experiences are similar. Both industries focus heavily on safety, are tightly regulated, and employ highly trained individuals.

Consumers may recognize the similarities as well – health care and air travel are both well-known for long waits, uncertainty, and implicit risk. Both sectors are also notorious drivers of innovation, constantly leveraging new technologies in pursuit of better outcomes and experiences. Occasionally, however, advancements in technology can present unforeseen challenges and even compromise safety, with the potential to produce unexpected consequences.

A familiar reminder of this potential was provided to us at the commencement of a recent flight, when we were instructed to turn off our personal electronic devices or flip them into “airplane mode.” This same admonishment is often given to patients and visitors in health care settings – everywhere from clinic waiting rooms to intensive care units – though the reason for this is typically left vague. This got us thinking. We wondered, what is the real risk of smart phones in medicine , or aviation, for that matter. More importantly, what other emerging technologies have the potential to create issues we may not have anticipated?

Mayo Clinic findings on radio communication used by mobile phones

Once our flight landed, we did some research to answer our initial question about personal communication technology and its ability to interfere with sensitive electronic devices. Specifically, we wanted to know whether radio communication used by mobile phones could affect the operation of medical equipment, potentially leading to dire consequences for patients. Spoiler alert: There is very little evidence that this can occur. In fact, a well-documented study performed by the Mayo Clinic in 2007 found interference in 0 out of 300 tests performed. To quote the authors, “the incidence of clinically important interference was 0%.”

We could find no other studies since 2007 that strongly contradict Mayo’s findings, except for several anecdotal reports and articles that postulate the theoretical possibility.

This is confirmed by the American Heart Association, who maintains a list of devices that may interfere with ICDs and pacemakers on their website. According to the AHA, “wireless transmissions from the antennae of phones available in the United States are a very small risk to ICDs and even less of a risk for pacemakers.” And in case you’re wondering, the story is quite similar for airplanes as well.

The latest publication from NASA’s Aviation Safety Reporting System (ASRS) documents incidents related to personal electronic devices during air travel. Most involve smoke production – or even small fires – caused by malfunctioning phone batteries during charging. Only a few entries reference wireless interference, and these were all minor and unconfirmed events. As with health care environments, airplanes don’t appear to face significant risks from radio interference. But that doesn’t mean personal electronics are completely harmless to patients.

Smartphones’ risks to patient with cardiac devices

On May 13 of 2021, the FDA issued a warning to cardiac patients about their smart phones and smart watches. Many current personal electronic devices and accessories are equipped with strong magnets, such as those contained in the “MagSafe” connector on the iPhone 12, that can deactivate pacemakers and implanted cardiac defibrillators. These medical devices are designed to be manipulated by magnets for diagnostic and therapeutic purposes, but strong magnetic fields can disable them unintentionally, leading to catastrophic results.

Apple and other manufacturers have acknowledged this risk and recommend that smartphones and other devices be kept at least 6 inches from cardiac devices. Given the ubiquity of offending products, it is also imperative that we warn our patients about this risk to their physical wellbeing.

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.

Over the 10 years we’ve been writing this column, we have often found inspiration for topics while traveling – especially while flying. This is not just because of the idle time spent in the air, but instead because of the many ways that air travel and health care experiences are similar. Both industries focus heavily on safety, are tightly regulated, and employ highly trained individuals.

Consumers may recognize the similarities as well – health care and air travel are both well-known for long waits, uncertainty, and implicit risk. Both sectors are also notorious drivers of innovation, constantly leveraging new technologies in pursuit of better outcomes and experiences. Occasionally, however, advancements in technology can present unforeseen challenges and even compromise safety, with the potential to produce unexpected consequences.

A familiar reminder of this potential was provided to us at the commencement of a recent flight, when we were instructed to turn off our personal electronic devices or flip them into “airplane mode.” This same admonishment is often given to patients and visitors in health care settings – everywhere from clinic waiting rooms to intensive care units – though the reason for this is typically left vague. This got us thinking. We wondered, what is the real risk of smart phones in medicine , or aviation, for that matter. More importantly, what other emerging technologies have the potential to create issues we may not have anticipated?

Mayo Clinic findings on radio communication used by mobile phones

Once our flight landed, we did some research to answer our initial question about personal communication technology and its ability to interfere with sensitive electronic devices. Specifically, we wanted to know whether radio communication used by mobile phones could affect the operation of medical equipment, potentially leading to dire consequences for patients. Spoiler alert: There is very little evidence that this can occur. In fact, a well-documented study performed by the Mayo Clinic in 2007 found interference in 0 out of 300 tests performed. To quote the authors, “the incidence of clinically important interference was 0%.”

We could find no other studies since 2007 that strongly contradict Mayo’s findings, except for several anecdotal reports and articles that postulate the theoretical possibility.

This is confirmed by the American Heart Association, who maintains a list of devices that may interfere with ICDs and pacemakers on their website. According to the AHA, “wireless transmissions from the antennae of phones available in the United States are a very small risk to ICDs and even less of a risk for pacemakers.” And in case you’re wondering, the story is quite similar for airplanes as well.

The latest publication from NASA’s Aviation Safety Reporting System (ASRS) documents incidents related to personal electronic devices during air travel. Most involve smoke production – or even small fires – caused by malfunctioning phone batteries during charging. Only a few entries reference wireless interference, and these were all minor and unconfirmed events. As with health care environments, airplanes don’t appear to face significant risks from radio interference. But that doesn’t mean personal electronics are completely harmless to patients.

Smartphones’ risks to patient with cardiac devices

On May 13 of 2021, the FDA issued a warning to cardiac patients about their smart phones and smart watches. Many current personal electronic devices and accessories are equipped with strong magnets, such as those contained in the “MagSafe” connector on the iPhone 12, that can deactivate pacemakers and implanted cardiac defibrillators. These medical devices are designed to be manipulated by magnets for diagnostic and therapeutic purposes, but strong magnetic fields can disable them unintentionally, leading to catastrophic results.

Apple and other manufacturers have acknowledged this risk and recommend that smartphones and other devices be kept at least 6 inches from cardiac devices. Given the ubiquity of offending products, it is also imperative that we warn our patients about this risk to their physical wellbeing.

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.

Over the 10 years we’ve been writing this column, we have often found inspiration for topics while traveling – especially while flying. This is not just because of the idle time spent in the air, but instead because of the many ways that air travel and health care experiences are similar. Both industries focus heavily on safety, are tightly regulated, and employ highly trained individuals.

Consumers may recognize the similarities as well – health care and air travel are both well-known for long waits, uncertainty, and implicit risk. Both sectors are also notorious drivers of innovation, constantly leveraging new technologies in pursuit of better outcomes and experiences. Occasionally, however, advancements in technology can present unforeseen challenges and even compromise safety, with the potential to produce unexpected consequences.

A familiar reminder of this potential was provided to us at the commencement of a recent flight, when we were instructed to turn off our personal electronic devices or flip them into “airplane mode.” This same admonishment is often given to patients and visitors in health care settings – everywhere from clinic waiting rooms to intensive care units – though the reason for this is typically left vague. This got us thinking. We wondered, what is the real risk of smart phones in medicine , or aviation, for that matter. More importantly, what other emerging technologies have the potential to create issues we may not have anticipated?

Mayo Clinic findings on radio communication used by mobile phones

Once our flight landed, we did some research to answer our initial question about personal communication technology and its ability to interfere with sensitive electronic devices. Specifically, we wanted to know whether radio communication used by mobile phones could affect the operation of medical equipment, potentially leading to dire consequences for patients. Spoiler alert: There is very little evidence that this can occur. In fact, a well-documented study performed by the Mayo Clinic in 2007 found interference in 0 out of 300 tests performed. To quote the authors, “the incidence of clinically important interference was 0%.”

We could find no other studies since 2007 that strongly contradict Mayo’s findings, except for several anecdotal reports and articles that postulate the theoretical possibility.

This is confirmed by the American Heart Association, who maintains a list of devices that may interfere with ICDs and pacemakers on their website. According to the AHA, “wireless transmissions from the antennae of phones available in the United States are a very small risk to ICDs and even less of a risk for pacemakers.” And in case you’re wondering, the story is quite similar for airplanes as well.

The latest publication from NASA’s Aviation Safety Reporting System (ASRS) documents incidents related to personal electronic devices during air travel. Most involve smoke production – or even small fires – caused by malfunctioning phone batteries during charging. Only a few entries reference wireless interference, and these were all minor and unconfirmed events. As with health care environments, airplanes don’t appear to face significant risks from radio interference. But that doesn’t mean personal electronics are completely harmless to patients.

Smartphones’ risks to patient with cardiac devices

On May 13 of 2021, the FDA issued a warning to cardiac patients about their smart phones and smart watches. Many current personal electronic devices and accessories are equipped with strong magnets, such as those contained in the “MagSafe” connector on the iPhone 12, that can deactivate pacemakers and implanted cardiac defibrillators. These medical devices are designed to be manipulated by magnets for diagnostic and therapeutic purposes, but strong magnetic fields can disable them unintentionally, leading to catastrophic results.

Apple and other manufacturers have acknowledged this risk and recommend that smartphones and other devices be kept at least 6 inches from cardiac devices. Given the ubiquity of offending products, it is also imperative that we warn our patients about this risk to their physical wellbeing.

Dr. Notte is a family physician and chief medical officer of Abington (Pa.) Hospital–Jefferson Health. Dr. Skolnik is professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, and associate director of the family medicine residency program at Abington Hospital–Jefferson Health. They have no conflicts related to the content of this piece.

Editor’s note: Prior authorization has been flagged as the biggest payer-related cause of stress for U.S. oncologists. In one survey, 75% said prior authorization was their biggest burden, followed by coverage denials and appeals (62%). Another survey found that practices spent on average 16.4 hours a week dealing with prior authorizations.

In the 16 years since I went into practice as a medical oncologist, the issue of prior authorization has become a nightmare.

Around 5% of my emails every day are from insurance companies denying my patients the treatments I have recommended. A part of every day is spent worrying about how I’m going to cover my patients’ therapy and what I need to order to make sure it doesn’t get delayed.

Many doctors are retiring because they don’t want to deal with this anymore. There are many times that I have thought about quitting for this reason. A partner of mine had a heart attack last year. He’s a few years older than I am – in his mid-50s – and that scared me. I actually had a CT angiogram just to make sure. They told me my heart is fine, but I worry because of all these frustrations every day. And I’m not alone. For every doctor I work with, it’s the same story, and it’s just ridiculous.

For example, I had a patient with a huge breast mass. My nurse got me the prior authorization for an emergency biopsy. I got back the results for estrogen and progesterone receptor status, but not the HER2-neu results because that test required another authorization.

Authorization shouldn’t be required for every single step. I understand if maybe you need to get an authorization to do something outside the standard of care or something that is unique or unheard of, but HER2-neu biopsy is standard of care and should not require additional authorization.

And the sad part is, that patient turned out to be HER2-neu positive. She lost 4 weeks just waiting for an authorization of a test that should be a no-brainer.

We cannot even do a blood count in our office before getting authorization from some insurances. This is a very important test when we give chemotherapy, and it’s very cheap.

And then another nightmare is if you want to give a patient growth factors when you see their blood count is going down. Sometimes the insurance company will say, “When they get neutropenic fever, we’ll allow it with the next cycle.” Why do I have to wait until the patient develops such a problem to start with a treatment that could avoid it? They may end up in the hospital.

I think I’m one of the more conservative doctors; I try to do everything scientifically and only order a test or a treatment if it’s indicated. But sometimes this guidance costs more money. For example, an insurance company may say to order a CT scan first and if you don’t find your answer, then get a PET scan.

So I order a CT scan, knowing it’s not going to help, and then I tell them, “Now I need a PET scan.” That’s another week delay and an extra cost that I don’t want the system to incur.

I’ve even had some issues with lung screening scans for smokers. This screening has reduced mortality by 20%; it should be a no-brainer to encourage smokers to do it because many of them may not even need chemotherapy if you find early-stage lung cancer. And the screening is not expensive, you can do it for $90 to $100. So why do we have to get authorization for that?

Sometimes I push back and request a “peer-to-peer,” where you challenge the decision of the insurance company and speak to one of their doctors. Out of 10 doctors, maybe three or four will do the peer-to-peer. The rest will give up because it’s so frustrating.

In one case, I wanted to modify a standard regimen and give only two out of three drugs because I thought the third would be too toxic. But the insurance company wouldn’t approve the regimen because the guidelines say you have to give three drugs.

Guidelines are guidance, they should not dictate how you treat an individual patient – there should be some allowance in there for a doctor’s discretion. If not, why do we even need doctors? We could just follow treatment regimens dictated by computers. They have to allow me to personalize the care that my patient deserves and make changes so that the treatment can be tolerated.

But then, I get that one patient whom I feel I really helped and I realize, “Okay, I can help more people.”

I had this one patient, a young, 40-year-old nurse with breast cancer – also HER2-neu positive. She’d had her surgery and finished her adjuvant chemotherapy. One of the things that you do as standard of care, after a year of trastuzumab, is you start them on neratinib. There are studies that show it improves progression-free survival if you give them an extra year of this drug as an adjuvant.

I prescribed the neratinib, but the insurance company denied it because the patient “did not have positive lymph nodes and was not considered high risk.” I told them, “That’s BS, that’s not what the indication is for.” I asked for a peer-to-peer and they said the policy did not allow for peer-to-peer. So, I made a big fuss about it. We appealed, and I finally spoke to a pharmacist who worked for the insurance company. I told him, “Why did you guys deny this? It’s standard of care.” He said, “Oh, I agree with you, this will be approved. And actually, we’re going to change the policy now.”

When that pharmacist told me they were going to change the policy, it was like someone gave me 1 million dollars. Because, you know what? I didn’t just help my patient; now other patients will also get it. The hope is that if you keep fighting for something, they will change it.

I think every doctor wants to do the best for their patients. It’s not like they don’t want to, but really, I am fortunate that I have the means to do it. We’re a big practice and we have dedicated staff who can help.

If you’re a small practice, it’s almost impossible to deal with this. I have two nurse practitioners, and a lot of their work is filling out paperwork for insurance companies.

We had a colleague, a solo practitioner, who would send us his patients with complicated therapies, because he couldn’t afford the time or the effort or the risk of not getting reimbursed. His practice could have paid out $100,000 for drugs and not get a reimbursement for a few months.

Even when an insurance company does give the preauthorization, there’s always this disclaimer that it doesn’t guarantee payment. If they find in the future that your patient didn’t meet the criteria, they can still deny payment.

If the insurers refuse coverage, we really work hard at getting patients free drugs, and most of the time, we manage to do that. We either look to charitable organizations, like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, or we look for rare disease societies or we go to the pharmaceutical company.

For really expensive drugs, pharmaceutical companies have a program where you can enroll the patient and they can help copay or even cover the drug. For less expensive drugs, it might not be a big problem, but for a drug that can cost $18,000 to $20,000 a month, that’s a big risk to take.

It’s confusing for patients, too. They get angry and frustrated, and that’s not good for their treatment, because attitude and psychology are very important. Sometimes they yell at us because they think it’s our fault. I encourage them to call their insurance companies themselves, and some of them do.

I don’t do it with every patient, but there are some more educated patients who are advocates, and if their condition is stable, I do encourage them to call their senators or congressmen or congresswomen to complain.

I don’t mind treating complicated patients. I don’t want to say I enjoy it, but I like challenges. That’s my field, that’s medicine, that’s what I’m supposed to do. But it’s really sad and frustrating that, when you want to treat a patient, you first have to look at their insurance to see how much care you can actually give them.

Maen Hussein, MD, is physician director of finance at Florida Cancer Specialists and Research Institute, Fort Myers. He is a board member of the Florida Cancer Specialists Foundation and sits on the board of directors for the Florida Society of Clinical Oncology.

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

Editor’s note: Prior authorization has been flagged as the biggest payer-related cause of stress for U.S. oncologists. In one survey, 75% said prior authorization was their biggest burden, followed by coverage denials and appeals (62%). Another survey found that practices spent on average 16.4 hours a week dealing with prior authorizations.

In the 16 years since I went into practice as a medical oncologist, the issue of prior authorization has become a nightmare.

Around 5% of my emails every day are from insurance companies denying my patients the treatments I have recommended. A part of every day is spent worrying about how I’m going to cover my patients’ therapy and what I need to order to make sure it doesn’t get delayed.

Many doctors are retiring because they don’t want to deal with this anymore. There are many times that I have thought about quitting for this reason. A partner of mine had a heart attack last year. He’s a few years older than I am – in his mid-50s – and that scared me. I actually had a CT angiogram just to make sure. They told me my heart is fine, but I worry because of all these frustrations every day. And I’m not alone. For every doctor I work with, it’s the same story, and it’s just ridiculous.

For example, I had a patient with a huge breast mass. My nurse got me the prior authorization for an emergency biopsy. I got back the results for estrogen and progesterone receptor status, but not the HER2-neu results because that test required another authorization.

Authorization shouldn’t be required for every single step. I understand if maybe you need to get an authorization to do something outside the standard of care or something that is unique or unheard of, but HER2-neu biopsy is standard of care and should not require additional authorization.

And the sad part is, that patient turned out to be HER2-neu positive. She lost 4 weeks just waiting for an authorization of a test that should be a no-brainer.

We cannot even do a blood count in our office before getting authorization from some insurances. This is a very important test when we give chemotherapy, and it’s very cheap.

And then another nightmare is if you want to give a patient growth factors when you see their blood count is going down. Sometimes the insurance company will say, “When they get neutropenic fever, we’ll allow it with the next cycle.” Why do I have to wait until the patient develops such a problem to start with a treatment that could avoid it? They may end up in the hospital.

I think I’m one of the more conservative doctors; I try to do everything scientifically and only order a test or a treatment if it’s indicated. But sometimes this guidance costs more money. For example, an insurance company may say to order a CT scan first and if you don’t find your answer, then get a PET scan.

So I order a CT scan, knowing it’s not going to help, and then I tell them, “Now I need a PET scan.” That’s another week delay and an extra cost that I don’t want the system to incur.

I’ve even had some issues with lung screening scans for smokers. This screening has reduced mortality by 20%; it should be a no-brainer to encourage smokers to do it because many of them may not even need chemotherapy if you find early-stage lung cancer. And the screening is not expensive, you can do it for $90 to $100. So why do we have to get authorization for that?

Sometimes I push back and request a “peer-to-peer,” where you challenge the decision of the insurance company and speak to one of their doctors. Out of 10 doctors, maybe three or four will do the peer-to-peer. The rest will give up because it’s so frustrating.

In one case, I wanted to modify a standard regimen and give only two out of three drugs because I thought the third would be too toxic. But the insurance company wouldn’t approve the regimen because the guidelines say you have to give three drugs.

Guidelines are guidance, they should not dictate how you treat an individual patient – there should be some allowance in there for a doctor’s discretion. If not, why do we even need doctors? We could just follow treatment regimens dictated by computers. They have to allow me to personalize the care that my patient deserves and make changes so that the treatment can be tolerated.

But then, I get that one patient whom I feel I really helped and I realize, “Okay, I can help more people.”

I had this one patient, a young, 40-year-old nurse with breast cancer – also HER2-neu positive. She’d had her surgery and finished her adjuvant chemotherapy. One of the things that you do as standard of care, after a year of trastuzumab, is you start them on neratinib. There are studies that show it improves progression-free survival if you give them an extra year of this drug as an adjuvant.

I prescribed the neratinib, but the insurance company denied it because the patient “did not have positive lymph nodes and was not considered high risk.” I told them, “That’s BS, that’s not what the indication is for.” I asked for a peer-to-peer and they said the policy did not allow for peer-to-peer. So, I made a big fuss about it. We appealed, and I finally spoke to a pharmacist who worked for the insurance company. I told him, “Why did you guys deny this? It’s standard of care.” He said, “Oh, I agree with you, this will be approved. And actually, we’re going to change the policy now.”

When that pharmacist told me they were going to change the policy, it was like someone gave me 1 million dollars. Because, you know what? I didn’t just help my patient; now other patients will also get it. The hope is that if you keep fighting for something, they will change it.

I think every doctor wants to do the best for their patients. It’s not like they don’t want to, but really, I am fortunate that I have the means to do it. We’re a big practice and we have dedicated staff who can help.

If you’re a small practice, it’s almost impossible to deal with this. I have two nurse practitioners, and a lot of their work is filling out paperwork for insurance companies.

We had a colleague, a solo practitioner, who would send us his patients with complicated therapies, because he couldn’t afford the time or the effort or the risk of not getting reimbursed. His practice could have paid out $100,000 for drugs and not get a reimbursement for a few months.

Even when an insurance company does give the preauthorization, there’s always this disclaimer that it doesn’t guarantee payment. If they find in the future that your patient didn’t meet the criteria, they can still deny payment.

If the insurers refuse coverage, we really work hard at getting patients free drugs, and most of the time, we manage to do that. We either look to charitable organizations, like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, or we look for rare disease societies or we go to the pharmaceutical company.

For really expensive drugs, pharmaceutical companies have a program where you can enroll the patient and they can help copay or even cover the drug. For less expensive drugs, it might not be a big problem, but for a drug that can cost $18,000 to $20,000 a month, that’s a big risk to take.

It’s confusing for patients, too. They get angry and frustrated, and that’s not good for their treatment, because attitude and psychology are very important. Sometimes they yell at us because they think it’s our fault. I encourage them to call their insurance companies themselves, and some of them do.

I don’t do it with every patient, but there are some more educated patients who are advocates, and if their condition is stable, I do encourage them to call their senators or congressmen or congresswomen to complain.

I don’t mind treating complicated patients. I don’t want to say I enjoy it, but I like challenges. That’s my field, that’s medicine, that’s what I’m supposed to do. But it’s really sad and frustrating that, when you want to treat a patient, you first have to look at their insurance to see how much care you can actually give them.

Maen Hussein, MD, is physician director of finance at Florida Cancer Specialists and Research Institute, Fort Myers. He is a board member of the Florida Cancer Specialists Foundation and sits on the board of directors for the Florida Society of Clinical Oncology.

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

Editor’s note: Prior authorization has been flagged as the biggest payer-related cause of stress for U.S. oncologists. In one survey, 75% said prior authorization was their biggest burden, followed by coverage denials and appeals (62%). Another survey found that practices spent on average 16.4 hours a week dealing with prior authorizations.

In the 16 years since I went into practice as a medical oncologist, the issue of prior authorization has become a nightmare.

Around 5% of my emails every day are from insurance companies denying my patients the treatments I have recommended. A part of every day is spent worrying about how I’m going to cover my patients’ therapy and what I need to order to make sure it doesn’t get delayed.

Many doctors are retiring because they don’t want to deal with this anymore. There are many times that I have thought about quitting for this reason. A partner of mine had a heart attack last year. He’s a few years older than I am – in his mid-50s – and that scared me. I actually had a CT angiogram just to make sure. They told me my heart is fine, but I worry because of all these frustrations every day. And I’m not alone. For every doctor I work with, it’s the same story, and it’s just ridiculous.

For example, I had a patient with a huge breast mass. My nurse got me the prior authorization for an emergency biopsy. I got back the results for estrogen and progesterone receptor status, but not the HER2-neu results because that test required another authorization.

Authorization shouldn’t be required for every single step. I understand if maybe you need to get an authorization to do something outside the standard of care or something that is unique or unheard of, but HER2-neu biopsy is standard of care and should not require additional authorization.

And the sad part is, that patient turned out to be HER2-neu positive. She lost 4 weeks just waiting for an authorization of a test that should be a no-brainer.

We cannot even do a blood count in our office before getting authorization from some insurances. This is a very important test when we give chemotherapy, and it’s very cheap.

And then another nightmare is if you want to give a patient growth factors when you see their blood count is going down. Sometimes the insurance company will say, “When they get neutropenic fever, we’ll allow it with the next cycle.” Why do I have to wait until the patient develops such a problem to start with a treatment that could avoid it? They may end up in the hospital.

I think I’m one of the more conservative doctors; I try to do everything scientifically and only order a test or a treatment if it’s indicated. But sometimes this guidance costs more money. For example, an insurance company may say to order a CT scan first and if you don’t find your answer, then get a PET scan.

So I order a CT scan, knowing it’s not going to help, and then I tell them, “Now I need a PET scan.” That’s another week delay and an extra cost that I don’t want the system to incur.

I’ve even had some issues with lung screening scans for smokers. This screening has reduced mortality by 20%; it should be a no-brainer to encourage smokers to do it because many of them may not even need chemotherapy if you find early-stage lung cancer. And the screening is not expensive, you can do it for $90 to $100. So why do we have to get authorization for that?

Sometimes I push back and request a “peer-to-peer,” where you challenge the decision of the insurance company and speak to one of their doctors. Out of 10 doctors, maybe three or four will do the peer-to-peer. The rest will give up because it’s so frustrating.

In one case, I wanted to modify a standard regimen and give only two out of three drugs because I thought the third would be too toxic. But the insurance company wouldn’t approve the regimen because the guidelines say you have to give three drugs.

Guidelines are guidance, they should not dictate how you treat an individual patient – there should be some allowance in there for a doctor’s discretion. If not, why do we even need doctors? We could just follow treatment regimens dictated by computers. They have to allow me to personalize the care that my patient deserves and make changes so that the treatment can be tolerated.

But then, I get that one patient whom I feel I really helped and I realize, “Okay, I can help more people.”

I had this one patient, a young, 40-year-old nurse with breast cancer – also HER2-neu positive. She’d had her surgery and finished her adjuvant chemotherapy. One of the things that you do as standard of care, after a year of trastuzumab, is you start them on neratinib. There are studies that show it improves progression-free survival if you give them an extra year of this drug as an adjuvant.

I prescribed the neratinib, but the insurance company denied it because the patient “did not have positive lymph nodes and was not considered high risk.” I told them, “That’s BS, that’s not what the indication is for.” I asked for a peer-to-peer and they said the policy did not allow for peer-to-peer. So, I made a big fuss about it. We appealed, and I finally spoke to a pharmacist who worked for the insurance company. I told him, “Why did you guys deny this? It’s standard of care.” He said, “Oh, I agree with you, this will be approved. And actually, we’re going to change the policy now.”

When that pharmacist told me they were going to change the policy, it was like someone gave me 1 million dollars. Because, you know what? I didn’t just help my patient; now other patients will also get it. The hope is that if you keep fighting for something, they will change it.

I think every doctor wants to do the best for their patients. It’s not like they don’t want to, but really, I am fortunate that I have the means to do it. We’re a big practice and we have dedicated staff who can help.

If you’re a small practice, it’s almost impossible to deal with this. I have two nurse practitioners, and a lot of their work is filling out paperwork for insurance companies.

We had a colleague, a solo practitioner, who would send us his patients with complicated therapies, because he couldn’t afford the time or the effort or the risk of not getting reimbursed. His practice could have paid out $100,000 for drugs and not get a reimbursement for a few months.

Even when an insurance company does give the preauthorization, there’s always this disclaimer that it doesn’t guarantee payment. If they find in the future that your patient didn’t meet the criteria, they can still deny payment.

If the insurers refuse coverage, we really work hard at getting patients free drugs, and most of the time, we manage to do that. We either look to charitable organizations, like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, or we look for rare disease societies or we go to the pharmaceutical company.

For really expensive drugs, pharmaceutical companies have a program where you can enroll the patient and they can help copay or even cover the drug. For less expensive drugs, it might not be a big problem, but for a drug that can cost $18,000 to $20,000 a month, that’s a big risk to take.

It’s confusing for patients, too. They get angry and frustrated, and that’s not good for their treatment, because attitude and psychology are very important. Sometimes they yell at us because they think it’s our fault. I encourage them to call their insurance companies themselves, and some of them do.

I don’t do it with every patient, but there are some more educated patients who are advocates, and if their condition is stable, I do encourage them to call their senators or congressmen or congresswomen to complain.

I don’t mind treating complicated patients. I don’t want to say I enjoy it, but I like challenges. That’s my field, that’s medicine, that’s what I’m supposed to do. But it’s really sad and frustrating that, when you want to treat a patient, you first have to look at their insurance to see how much care you can actually give them.

Maen Hussein, MD, is physician director of finance at Florida Cancer Specialists and Research Institute, Fort Myers. He is a board member of the Florida Cancer Specialists Foundation and sits on the board of directors for the Florida Society of Clinical Oncology.

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

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

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

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

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

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

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

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.