Letters from Maine

If you haven’t already found out that activity is a critical component in the physical and mental health of your patients, or if you’re trying to convince an influential person or group it deserves their attention and investment, I suggest you chase down this clinical report from the American Academy of Pediatrics. Representing the AAP’s Council on Sports Medicine and Fitness and Section on Obesity, the authors quite thoroughly make the case that anyone concerned about the health of this nation and its children should make promotion of physical activity a top priority.

I suspect that, like many of the position papers that come from the AAP, this clinical report is another example of preaching to the choir. However, I understand that the academy also hopes to convince a broader audience of nonphysician decision makers by laying out all of the evidence they can muster.

With their voluminous supporting evidence on the table, the authors move on to getting those of us in clinical practice to make our approach to this more systematic – including the addition of a Physical Activity Vital Sign (PAVS) in our patients’ health records. And here is where the authors begin to drift into the hazy dream world of unreality. They admit that “pediatricians will need efficient workflows to incorporate physical activity assessment, counseling and referral in the clinical visit.” Although there is no pediatrician more convinced of the importance of physical activity, I would find it very difficult to include a detailed assessment of my patients’ daily activity in their charts in the manner that the council members envision. Clunky EHRs, limited support staff, and a crowd of advocates already clamoring for my attention on their favorite health issue (nutrition, gun safety, parental depression, dental health to name just a few) all make creating an “efficient workflow” difficult on a good day and impossible on many days.

But, as I have said, I am a strong advocate of physical activity. So here’s a more nuanced suggestion based on a combination of my practical experience and the council’s recommendations.

If you provide good continuity of care to the families in your practice and have been asking good “getting to know you” questions at each visit, you probably already know which of your patients are sufficiently active. You don’t need to ask them how many hours a week they are doing something active. You should be able to just check a box that says “active.”

For patients that you haven’t seen before or suspect are too sedentary from looking at their biometrics and listening to their complaints you need only ask “What do you and your family like to do for fun?” The simple follow-up question of how many hours are spent watching TV, looking at smart phones or tablets, and playing video games in each day completes the survey. You don’t need to chart the depressing details because, as we know, relying on patient or parental recall is unlikely to provide the actual numbers. Just simply check the box that says “not active enough.” What you do with this crude assessment activity is another story and will be the topic for the next Letters from Maine.

This clinical report from the AAP is an excellent and exhaustive discussion of the importance of physical activity, but I hope that it doesn’t spark further cluttering of our already challenged EHR systems. Most of us don’t have the time to be data collectors and quantifiers. Let’s leave that to the clinical researchers. We already know activity is important and that most of our sedentary families aren’t going to be impressed by more science. Our challenge is to get them moving.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

If you haven’t already found out that activity is a critical component in the physical and mental health of your patients, or if you’re trying to convince an influential person or group it deserves their attention and investment, I suggest you chase down this clinical report from the American Academy of Pediatrics. Representing the AAP’s Council on Sports Medicine and Fitness and Section on Obesity, the authors quite thoroughly make the case that anyone concerned about the health of this nation and its children should make promotion of physical activity a top priority.

I suspect that, like many of the position papers that come from the AAP, this clinical report is another example of preaching to the choir. However, I understand that the academy also hopes to convince a broader audience of nonphysician decision makers by laying out all of the evidence they can muster.

With their voluminous supporting evidence on the table, the authors move on to getting those of us in clinical practice to make our approach to this more systematic – including the addition of a Physical Activity Vital Sign (PAVS) in our patients’ health records. And here is where the authors begin to drift into the hazy dream world of unreality. They admit that “pediatricians will need efficient workflows to incorporate physical activity assessment, counseling and referral in the clinical visit.” Although there is no pediatrician more convinced of the importance of physical activity, I would find it very difficult to include a detailed assessment of my patients’ daily activity in their charts in the manner that the council members envision. Clunky EHRs, limited support staff, and a crowd of advocates already clamoring for my attention on their favorite health issue (nutrition, gun safety, parental depression, dental health to name just a few) all make creating an “efficient workflow” difficult on a good day and impossible on many days.

But, as I have said, I am a strong advocate of physical activity. So here’s a more nuanced suggestion based on a combination of my practical experience and the council’s recommendations.

If you provide good continuity of care to the families in your practice and have been asking good “getting to know you” questions at each visit, you probably already know which of your patients are sufficiently active. You don’t need to ask them how many hours a week they are doing something active. You should be able to just check a box that says “active.”

For patients that you haven’t seen before or suspect are too sedentary from looking at their biometrics and listening to their complaints you need only ask “What do you and your family like to do for fun?” The simple follow-up question of how many hours are spent watching TV, looking at smart phones or tablets, and playing video games in each day completes the survey. You don’t need to chart the depressing details because, as we know, relying on patient or parental recall is unlikely to provide the actual numbers. Just simply check the box that says “not active enough.” What you do with this crude assessment activity is another story and will be the topic for the next Letters from Maine.

This clinical report from the AAP is an excellent and exhaustive discussion of the importance of physical activity, but I hope that it doesn’t spark further cluttering of our already challenged EHR systems. Most of us don’t have the time to be data collectors and quantifiers. Let’s leave that to the clinical researchers. We already know activity is important and that most of our sedentary families aren’t going to be impressed by more science. Our challenge is to get them moving.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

If you haven’t already found out that activity is a critical component in the physical and mental health of your patients, or if you’re trying to convince an influential person or group it deserves their attention and investment, I suggest you chase down this clinical report from the American Academy of Pediatrics. Representing the AAP’s Council on Sports Medicine and Fitness and Section on Obesity, the authors quite thoroughly make the case that anyone concerned about the health of this nation and its children should make promotion of physical activity a top priority.

I suspect that, like many of the position papers that come from the AAP, this clinical report is another example of preaching to the choir. However, I understand that the academy also hopes to convince a broader audience of nonphysician decision makers by laying out all of the evidence they can muster.

With their voluminous supporting evidence on the table, the authors move on to getting those of us in clinical practice to make our approach to this more systematic – including the addition of a Physical Activity Vital Sign (PAVS) in our patients’ health records. And here is where the authors begin to drift into the hazy dream world of unreality. They admit that “pediatricians will need efficient workflows to incorporate physical activity assessment, counseling and referral in the clinical visit.” Although there is no pediatrician more convinced of the importance of physical activity, I would find it very difficult to include a detailed assessment of my patients’ daily activity in their charts in the manner that the council members envision. Clunky EHRs, limited support staff, and a crowd of advocates already clamoring for my attention on their favorite health issue (nutrition, gun safety, parental depression, dental health to name just a few) all make creating an “efficient workflow” difficult on a good day and impossible on many days.

But, as I have said, I am a strong advocate of physical activity. So here’s a more nuanced suggestion based on a combination of my practical experience and the council’s recommendations.

If you provide good continuity of care to the families in your practice and have been asking good “getting to know you” questions at each visit, you probably already know which of your patients are sufficiently active. You don’t need to ask them how many hours a week they are doing something active. You should be able to just check a box that says “active.”

For patients that you haven’t seen before or suspect are too sedentary from looking at their biometrics and listening to their complaints you need only ask “What do you and your family like to do for fun?” The simple follow-up question of how many hours are spent watching TV, looking at smart phones or tablets, and playing video games in each day completes the survey. You don’t need to chart the depressing details because, as we know, relying on patient or parental recall is unlikely to provide the actual numbers. Just simply check the box that says “not active enough.” What you do with this crude assessment activity is another story and will be the topic for the next Letters from Maine.

This clinical report from the AAP is an excellent and exhaustive discussion of the importance of physical activity, but I hope that it doesn’t spark further cluttering of our already challenged EHR systems. Most of us don’t have the time to be data collectors and quantifiers. Let’s leave that to the clinical researchers. We already know activity is important and that most of our sedentary families aren’t going to be impressed by more science. Our challenge is to get them moving.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

I don’t know how successful you have been at getting your adolescent patients to follow your suggestions, but I would guess that my batting average was in the low 100s. Even when I try stepping off my soapbox to involve the patient in a nonjudgmental dialogue, my successes pale in comparison to my failures.

Vladimir Vladimirov/E+/Getty Images

Just looking at our national statistics for obesity, it’s pretty obvious that we are all doing a pretty rotten job of modifying our patients behaviors. You could point to a few encouraging numbers but they are few and far between. You could claim correctly that by the time a child reaches preschool, the die is already cast, throw up your arms, and not even raise the subject of diet with your overweight teenage patients.

A recent article in the journal Appetite hints at a group of strategies for molding patient behavior that so far have gotten very little attention from physicians (“Do perceived norms of social media users eating habits and preferences predict our own food consumption and BMI?” Appetite. 2020 Jan 18. doi: 10.1016/j.appet.2020.104611). Researchers at the department of psychology at Ashton University in Birmingham, England, surveyed more than 350 college-age students asking them about the dietary preference of their Facebook contacts and their own dietary habits. What the investigators found was that respondents who perceived their peers ate a healthy diet ate a healthier diet. Conversely, if the respondents thought their social media contacts ate junk food, they reported eating more of an unhealthy diet themselves.

In other words, it appears that, through social media, we have the potential to influence the eating habits of our patients’ peers. Before we get too excited, it should be pointed out that this study from England wasn’t of a long enough duration to demonstrate an effect on body mass index. And another study of 176 children recently published in Pediatrics found that while influencer marketing of unhealthy foods increased children’s immediate food intake, the equivalent marketing of healthy foods had no effect (“Social influencer marketing and children’s food intake: A randomized trial.” Pediatrics. 2019 Apr 1. doi: 10.1542/peds.2018-2554).

Not being terribly aware of the whos, whats, and wheres of influencers, I did a little bit of Internet searching at the Influencer Marketing hub and learned that influencers comes in all shapes and sizes, from “nanoinfluencers” who have acknowledged expertise and a very small Internet following numbering as few as a hundred to “megainfluencers” who have more than a million followers and might charge large entities a million dollars for a single post. The influencer’s content could appear as a blog, a YouTube video, a podcast, or simply a social media post.

The field of influencer marketing is new and growing exponentially. We would be wise as a group and as individuals to learn as much as we can about how we can use influencers to promote healthy behaviors. This initiative could come in the form of an office dedicated to Influencer Marketing created by the American Academy of Pediatrics. That group could search for megainfluencers who might be funded by the academy. But it also could develop a handbook for individual practitioners and groups to help them identify nano- and micro- (1,000-40,000 followers) influencers in their own practices.

You probably don’t ask your patients about their social media habits other than to caution them about time management. Maybe it’s time to dig a little deeper. You may find that you have a potent influencer hidden in your practice. She or he might just be willing to spread a good word or two for you.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

I don’t know how successful you have been at getting your adolescent patients to follow your suggestions, but I would guess that my batting average was in the low 100s. Even when I try stepping off my soapbox to involve the patient in a nonjudgmental dialogue, my successes pale in comparison to my failures.

Vladimir Vladimirov/E+/Getty Images

Just looking at our national statistics for obesity, it’s pretty obvious that we are all doing a pretty rotten job of modifying our patients behaviors. You could point to a few encouraging numbers but they are few and far between. You could claim correctly that by the time a child reaches preschool, the die is already cast, throw up your arms, and not even raise the subject of diet with your overweight teenage patients.

A recent article in the journal Appetite hints at a group of strategies for molding patient behavior that so far have gotten very little attention from physicians (“Do perceived norms of social media users eating habits and preferences predict our own food consumption and BMI?” Appetite. 2020 Jan 18. doi: 10.1016/j.appet.2020.104611). Researchers at the department of psychology at Ashton University in Birmingham, England, surveyed more than 350 college-age students asking them about the dietary preference of their Facebook contacts and their own dietary habits. What the investigators found was that respondents who perceived their peers ate a healthy diet ate a healthier diet. Conversely, if the respondents thought their social media contacts ate junk food, they reported eating more of an unhealthy diet themselves.

In other words, it appears that, through social media, we have the potential to influence the eating habits of our patients’ peers. Before we get too excited, it should be pointed out that this study from England wasn’t of a long enough duration to demonstrate an effect on body mass index. And another study of 176 children recently published in Pediatrics found that while influencer marketing of unhealthy foods increased children’s immediate food intake, the equivalent marketing of healthy foods had no effect (“Social influencer marketing and children’s food intake: A randomized trial.” Pediatrics. 2019 Apr 1. doi: 10.1542/peds.2018-2554).

Not being terribly aware of the whos, whats, and wheres of influencers, I did a little bit of Internet searching at the Influencer Marketing hub and learned that influencers comes in all shapes and sizes, from “nanoinfluencers” who have acknowledged expertise and a very small Internet following numbering as few as a hundred to “megainfluencers” who have more than a million followers and might charge large entities a million dollars for a single post. The influencer’s content could appear as a blog, a YouTube video, a podcast, or simply a social media post.

The field of influencer marketing is new and growing exponentially. We would be wise as a group and as individuals to learn as much as we can about how we can use influencers to promote healthy behaviors. This initiative could come in the form of an office dedicated to Influencer Marketing created by the American Academy of Pediatrics. That group could search for megainfluencers who might be funded by the academy. But it also could develop a handbook for individual practitioners and groups to help them identify nano- and micro- (1,000-40,000 followers) influencers in their own practices.

You probably don’t ask your patients about their social media habits other than to caution them about time management. Maybe it’s time to dig a little deeper. You may find that you have a potent influencer hidden in your practice. She or he might just be willing to spread a good word or two for you.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

I don’t know how successful you have been at getting your adolescent patients to follow your suggestions, but I would guess that my batting average was in the low 100s. Even when I try stepping off my soapbox to involve the patient in a nonjudgmental dialogue, my successes pale in comparison to my failures.

Vladimir Vladimirov/E+/Getty Images

Just looking at our national statistics for obesity, it’s pretty obvious that we are all doing a pretty rotten job of modifying our patients behaviors. You could point to a few encouraging numbers but they are few and far between. You could claim correctly that by the time a child reaches preschool, the die is already cast, throw up your arms, and not even raise the subject of diet with your overweight teenage patients.

A recent article in the journal Appetite hints at a group of strategies for molding patient behavior that so far have gotten very little attention from physicians (“Do perceived norms of social media users eating habits and preferences predict our own food consumption and BMI?” Appetite. 2020 Jan 18. doi: 10.1016/j.appet.2020.104611). Researchers at the department of psychology at Ashton University in Birmingham, England, surveyed more than 350 college-age students asking them about the dietary preference of their Facebook contacts and their own dietary habits. What the investigators found was that respondents who perceived their peers ate a healthy diet ate a healthier diet. Conversely, if the respondents thought their social media contacts ate junk food, they reported eating more of an unhealthy diet themselves.

In other words, it appears that, through social media, we have the potential to influence the eating habits of our patients’ peers. Before we get too excited, it should be pointed out that this study from England wasn’t of a long enough duration to demonstrate an effect on body mass index. And another study of 176 children recently published in Pediatrics found that while influencer marketing of unhealthy foods increased children’s immediate food intake, the equivalent marketing of healthy foods had no effect (“Social influencer marketing and children’s food intake: A randomized trial.” Pediatrics. 2019 Apr 1. doi: 10.1542/peds.2018-2554).

Not being terribly aware of the whos, whats, and wheres of influencers, I did a little bit of Internet searching at the Influencer Marketing hub and learned that influencers comes in all shapes and sizes, from “nanoinfluencers” who have acknowledged expertise and a very small Internet following numbering as few as a hundred to “megainfluencers” who have more than a million followers and might charge large entities a million dollars for a single post. The influencer’s content could appear as a blog, a YouTube video, a podcast, or simply a social media post.

The field of influencer marketing is new and growing exponentially. We would be wise as a group and as individuals to learn as much as we can about how we can use influencers to promote healthy behaviors. This initiative could come in the form of an office dedicated to Influencer Marketing created by the American Academy of Pediatrics. That group could search for megainfluencers who might be funded by the academy. But it also could develop a handbook for individual practitioners and groups to help them identify nano- and micro- (1,000-40,000 followers) influencers in their own practices.

You probably don’t ask your patients about their social media habits other than to caution them about time management. Maybe it’s time to dig a little deeper. You may find that you have a potent influencer hidden in your practice. She or he might just be willing to spread a good word or two for you.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You learned a lot of things in medical school. But there must have been some things that you unlearned on the way to your degree. For instance, you unlearned that you could catch a cold by playing outside on a cold damp day without your jacket. You unlearned that handling a toad would give you warts.

©KatarzynaBialasiewicz/Thinkstock

The authors of a recent study suggest that over your 4 years in medical school you also unlearned how to be empathetic (“Does Empathy Decline in the Clinical Phase of Medical Education? A Nationwide, Multi-institutional, Cross-Sectional Study of Students at DO-Granting Medical Schools,” Acad Med. 2020 Jan 21. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003175). The researchers surveyed more than 10,000 medical students at nearly 50 DO-granting medical schools using standardized questionnaire called the Jefferson Scale of Empathy. They discovered that the students in the clinical phase (years 3 and 4) had lower “empathy scores” than the students in the preclinical phase of their education (years 1 and 2). This decline was statistically significant but “negligible” in magnitude. One wonders why they even chose to publish their results, particularly when the number of respondents to the web-based survey declined with each successive year in medical school. Having looked at the a sample of some of the questions being asked, I can understand why third- and fourth-year students couldn’t be bothered to respond. They were too busy to answer a few dozen “lame” questions.

There may be a decline in empathy over the course our medical training, but I’m not sure that this study can speak to it. An older study found that although medical students scores on a self-administered scale declined between the second and third year, the observed empathetic behavior actually increased. If I had to choose, I would lean more heavily on the results of the behavioral observations.

Certainly, we all changed over the course of our medical education. Including postgraduate training, it may have lasted a decade or more. We saw hundreds of patients, observed life and death on a scale and with an intensity that most of us previously had never experienced. Our perspective changed from being a naive observer to playing the role of an active participant. Did that change include a decline in our capacity for empathy?

Something had to change. We found quickly that we didn’t have the time or emotional energy to learn as much about the person hiding behind every complaint as we once thought we should. We had to cut corners. Sometimes we cut too many. On the other hand, as we saw more patients we may have learned more efficient ways of discovering what we needed to know about them to become an effective and caring physician. If we found ourselves in a specialty in which patients have a high mortality, we were forced to learn ways of protecting ourselves from the emotional damage.

What would you call this process? Was it empathy erosion? Was it a hardening or toughening? Or was it simply maturation? Whatever term you use, it was an obligatory process if we hoped to survive. However, not all of us have done it well. Some of us have narrowed our focus to see only the complaint and the diagnosis, and we too often fail to see the human hiding in plain sight.

For those of us who completed our training with our empathy intact, was this the result of a genetic gift or the atmosphere our parents had created at home? I suspect that in most cases our capacity for empathy as physicians was nurtured and enhanced by the role models we encountered during our training. The mentors we most revered were those who had already been through the annealing process of medical school and specialty training and become even more skilled at caring than when they left college. It is an intangible that can’t be taught. Sadly, there is no way of guaranteeing that everyone who enters medical school will be exposed to or benefit from even one of these master physicians.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You learned a lot of things in medical school. But there must have been some things that you unlearned on the way to your degree. For instance, you unlearned that you could catch a cold by playing outside on a cold damp day without your jacket. You unlearned that handling a toad would give you warts.

©KatarzynaBialasiewicz/Thinkstock

The authors of a recent study suggest that over your 4 years in medical school you also unlearned how to be empathetic (“Does Empathy Decline in the Clinical Phase of Medical Education? A Nationwide, Multi-institutional, Cross-Sectional Study of Students at DO-Granting Medical Schools,” Acad Med. 2020 Jan 21. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003175). The researchers surveyed more than 10,000 medical students at nearly 50 DO-granting medical schools using standardized questionnaire called the Jefferson Scale of Empathy. They discovered that the students in the clinical phase (years 3 and 4) had lower “empathy scores” than the students in the preclinical phase of their education (years 1 and 2). This decline was statistically significant but “negligible” in magnitude. One wonders why they even chose to publish their results, particularly when the number of respondents to the web-based survey declined with each successive year in medical school. Having looked at the a sample of some of the questions being asked, I can understand why third- and fourth-year students couldn’t be bothered to respond. They were too busy to answer a few dozen “lame” questions.

There may be a decline in empathy over the course our medical training, but I’m not sure that this study can speak to it. An older study found that although medical students scores on a self-administered scale declined between the second and third year, the observed empathetic behavior actually increased. If I had to choose, I would lean more heavily on the results of the behavioral observations.

Certainly, we all changed over the course of our medical education. Including postgraduate training, it may have lasted a decade or more. We saw hundreds of patients, observed life and death on a scale and with an intensity that most of us previously had never experienced. Our perspective changed from being a naive observer to playing the role of an active participant. Did that change include a decline in our capacity for empathy?

Something had to change. We found quickly that we didn’t have the time or emotional energy to learn as much about the person hiding behind every complaint as we once thought we should. We had to cut corners. Sometimes we cut too many. On the other hand, as we saw more patients we may have learned more efficient ways of discovering what we needed to know about them to become an effective and caring physician. If we found ourselves in a specialty in which patients have a high mortality, we were forced to learn ways of protecting ourselves from the emotional damage.

What would you call this process? Was it empathy erosion? Was it a hardening or toughening? Or was it simply maturation? Whatever term you use, it was an obligatory process if we hoped to survive. However, not all of us have done it well. Some of us have narrowed our focus to see only the complaint and the diagnosis, and we too often fail to see the human hiding in plain sight.

For those of us who completed our training with our empathy intact, was this the result of a genetic gift or the atmosphere our parents had created at home? I suspect that in most cases our capacity for empathy as physicians was nurtured and enhanced by the role models we encountered during our training. The mentors we most revered were those who had already been through the annealing process of medical school and specialty training and become even more skilled at caring than when they left college. It is an intangible that can’t be taught. Sadly, there is no way of guaranteeing that everyone who enters medical school will be exposed to or benefit from even one of these master physicians.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You learned a lot of things in medical school. But there must have been some things that you unlearned on the way to your degree. For instance, you unlearned that you could catch a cold by playing outside on a cold damp day without your jacket. You unlearned that handling a toad would give you warts.

©KatarzynaBialasiewicz/Thinkstock

The authors of a recent study suggest that over your 4 years in medical school you also unlearned how to be empathetic (“Does Empathy Decline in the Clinical Phase of Medical Education? A Nationwide, Multi-institutional, Cross-Sectional Study of Students at DO-Granting Medical Schools,” Acad Med. 2020 Jan 21. doi: 10.1097/ACM.0000000000003175). The researchers surveyed more than 10,000 medical students at nearly 50 DO-granting medical schools using standardized questionnaire called the Jefferson Scale of Empathy. They discovered that the students in the clinical phase (years 3 and 4) had lower “empathy scores” than the students in the preclinical phase of their education (years 1 and 2). This decline was statistically significant but “negligible” in magnitude. One wonders why they even chose to publish their results, particularly when the number of respondents to the web-based survey declined with each successive year in medical school. Having looked at the a sample of some of the questions being asked, I can understand why third- and fourth-year students couldn’t be bothered to respond. They were too busy to answer a few dozen “lame” questions.

There may be a decline in empathy over the course our medical training, but I’m not sure that this study can speak to it. An older study found that although medical students scores on a self-administered scale declined between the second and third year, the observed empathetic behavior actually increased. If I had to choose, I would lean more heavily on the results of the behavioral observations.

Certainly, we all changed over the course of our medical education. Including postgraduate training, it may have lasted a decade or more. We saw hundreds of patients, observed life and death on a scale and with an intensity that most of us previously had never experienced. Our perspective changed from being a naive observer to playing the role of an active participant. Did that change include a decline in our capacity for empathy?

Something had to change. We found quickly that we didn’t have the time or emotional energy to learn as much about the person hiding behind every complaint as we once thought we should. We had to cut corners. Sometimes we cut too many. On the other hand, as we saw more patients we may have learned more efficient ways of discovering what we needed to know about them to become an effective and caring physician. If we found ourselves in a specialty in which patients have a high mortality, we were forced to learn ways of protecting ourselves from the emotional damage.

What would you call this process? Was it empathy erosion? Was it a hardening or toughening? Or was it simply maturation? Whatever term you use, it was an obligatory process if we hoped to survive. However, not all of us have done it well. Some of us have narrowed our focus to see only the complaint and the diagnosis, and we too often fail to see the human hiding in plain sight.

For those of us who completed our training with our empathy intact, was this the result of a genetic gift or the atmosphere our parents had created at home? I suspect that in most cases our capacity for empathy as physicians was nurtured and enhanced by the role models we encountered during our training. The mentors we most revered were those who had already been through the annealing process of medical school and specialty training and become even more skilled at caring than when they left college. It is an intangible that can’t be taught. Sadly, there is no way of guaranteeing that everyone who enters medical school will be exposed to or benefit from even one of these master physicians.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s hard to find good news these days, but I thought I had stumbled on a nice feel-good story in the Portland Press Herald. It turns out a group of students at the King Middle School in Portland, Maine, has formed a team of “compost guardians,” who by coaxing their fellow students into sorting their uneaten lunch food into five reusable or recyclable categories have reduced the cafeteria’s daily waste production from 12 40-gallon trash bags to 2. (“Each year, Maine’s K-12 schools waste about 7 million pounds of food,” by Rachel Ohm, Portland Press Herald, Feb. 2, 2020). That seems like a heroic accomplishment and good news by any standard.

monkeybusinessimages/Getty Images

However, as I read on in the newspaper article it became clear that these students’ efforts represent a tiny speck of light in the middle of a very dark tunnel. In developing their system, the students learned that 34% of the food was not being consumed, which is part of the 30%-40% of food wasted across the country. In Maine, this represents about 7 million pounds of food wasted annually. Not surprisingly, the students found that 60% of the fruit and 28% of the vegetables go uneaten.

But current federal guidelines dictate that students must take a vegetable and a fruit on their trays. While well-intentioned, this is a mandate destined to generate waste.

King Middle School and many other schools around the country offer a program that is not in the federal guidelines: a “share table” where students can place unwanted (but safe to eat) food, and from which other students may serve themselves freely. On the surface, this may seem like a good idea because it legitimizes what children have been doing for years on their own. This shared food should consist of “healthy choices” because it is cafeteria fare dictated by the United States Department of Agriculture. But you know as well as I do that a child can become obese overeating a diet that in moderate amounts would be considered healthy. I suspect that many, if not most, students taking food from the share table don’t need any extra calories.

The USDA recently announced that it will be rolling out reforms for school and summer meal programs (USDA Release # USDA 0129.20). One of the goals of these reforms is to reduce food wastage by giving schools more flexibility in creating menus and offering more à la carte options. In the wake this rollout, there has been some concern voiced that schools will begin to offer less nutritional options. Unfortunately, this concern may be true in some districts, but it is pretty clear that the current guidelines are a significant contributor to food wastage without offering much of an upside. It may be time to lessen the record-keeping burden on local food services, and allow them some leeway in creating more appealing options while taking advantage of local food sources.

With or without the new guidelines, we are asking public schools to cater to multiple cohorts of students whose parents have put them on the bus in the morning as mismanaged picky eaters.

What would have worked at home could work at school. That strategy is to offer a child a balanced diet presented in an appealing manner in a pleasant setting. Also it is not allowing any sweetened beverages or milk in excess. Children may grumble temporarily but if the strategy is applied consistently, they will take it from there. That doesn’t mean that the children have to put the food on their trays if they don’t want it. But they shouldn’t be offered a second run through the cafeteria line or a chance to pick from the share table. Sadly, the success of this strategy relies on two shaky premises: That parents will begin to apply it at home and that school lunch programs will offer only healthy choices.

The bottom line is that schools can’t be expected to cure picky eaters who were enabled at home. On the other hand, it is not unreasonable to ask schools to play a role in curbing the national scourge of food wastage.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s hard to find good news these days, but I thought I had stumbled on a nice feel-good story in the Portland Press Herald. It turns out a group of students at the King Middle School in Portland, Maine, has formed a team of “compost guardians,” who by coaxing their fellow students into sorting their uneaten lunch food into five reusable or recyclable categories have reduced the cafeteria’s daily waste production from 12 40-gallon trash bags to 2. (“Each year, Maine’s K-12 schools waste about 7 million pounds of food,” by Rachel Ohm, Portland Press Herald, Feb. 2, 2020). That seems like a heroic accomplishment and good news by any standard.

monkeybusinessimages/Getty Images

However, as I read on in the newspaper article it became clear that these students’ efforts represent a tiny speck of light in the middle of a very dark tunnel. In developing their system, the students learned that 34% of the food was not being consumed, which is part of the 30%-40% of food wasted across the country. In Maine, this represents about 7 million pounds of food wasted annually. Not surprisingly, the students found that 60% of the fruit and 28% of the vegetables go uneaten.

But current federal guidelines dictate that students must take a vegetable and a fruit on their trays. While well-intentioned, this is a mandate destined to generate waste.

King Middle School and many other schools around the country offer a program that is not in the federal guidelines: a “share table” where students can place unwanted (but safe to eat) food, and from which other students may serve themselves freely. On the surface, this may seem like a good idea because it legitimizes what children have been doing for years on their own. This shared food should consist of “healthy choices” because it is cafeteria fare dictated by the United States Department of Agriculture. But you know as well as I do that a child can become obese overeating a diet that in moderate amounts would be considered healthy. I suspect that many, if not most, students taking food from the share table don’t need any extra calories.

The USDA recently announced that it will be rolling out reforms for school and summer meal programs (USDA Release # USDA 0129.20). One of the goals of these reforms is to reduce food wastage by giving schools more flexibility in creating menus and offering more à la carte options. In the wake this rollout, there has been some concern voiced that schools will begin to offer less nutritional options. Unfortunately, this concern may be true in some districts, but it is pretty clear that the current guidelines are a significant contributor to food wastage without offering much of an upside. It may be time to lessen the record-keeping burden on local food services, and allow them some leeway in creating more appealing options while taking advantage of local food sources.

With or without the new guidelines, we are asking public schools to cater to multiple cohorts of students whose parents have put them on the bus in the morning as mismanaged picky eaters.

What would have worked at home could work at school. That strategy is to offer a child a balanced diet presented in an appealing manner in a pleasant setting. Also it is not allowing any sweetened beverages or milk in excess. Children may grumble temporarily but if the strategy is applied consistently, they will take it from there. That doesn’t mean that the children have to put the food on their trays if they don’t want it. But they shouldn’t be offered a second run through the cafeteria line or a chance to pick from the share table. Sadly, the success of this strategy relies on two shaky premises: That parents will begin to apply it at home and that school lunch programs will offer only healthy choices.

The bottom line is that schools can’t be expected to cure picky eaters who were enabled at home. On the other hand, it is not unreasonable to ask schools to play a role in curbing the national scourge of food wastage.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

It’s hard to find good news these days, but I thought I had stumbled on a nice feel-good story in the Portland Press Herald. It turns out a group of students at the King Middle School in Portland, Maine, has formed a team of “compost guardians,” who by coaxing their fellow students into sorting their uneaten lunch food into five reusable or recyclable categories have reduced the cafeteria’s daily waste production from 12 40-gallon trash bags to 2. (“Each year, Maine’s K-12 schools waste about 7 million pounds of food,” by Rachel Ohm, Portland Press Herald, Feb. 2, 2020). That seems like a heroic accomplishment and good news by any standard.

monkeybusinessimages/Getty Images

However, as I read on in the newspaper article it became clear that these students’ efforts represent a tiny speck of light in the middle of a very dark tunnel. In developing their system, the students learned that 34% of the food was not being consumed, which is part of the 30%-40% of food wasted across the country. In Maine, this represents about 7 million pounds of food wasted annually. Not surprisingly, the students found that 60% of the fruit and 28% of the vegetables go uneaten.

But current federal guidelines dictate that students must take a vegetable and a fruit on their trays. While well-intentioned, this is a mandate destined to generate waste.

King Middle School and many other schools around the country offer a program that is not in the federal guidelines: a “share table” where students can place unwanted (but safe to eat) food, and from which other students may serve themselves freely. On the surface, this may seem like a good idea because it legitimizes what children have been doing for years on their own. This shared food should consist of “healthy choices” because it is cafeteria fare dictated by the United States Department of Agriculture. But you know as well as I do that a child can become obese overeating a diet that in moderate amounts would be considered healthy. I suspect that many, if not most, students taking food from the share table don’t need any extra calories.

The USDA recently announced that it will be rolling out reforms for school and summer meal programs (USDA Release # USDA 0129.20). One of the goals of these reforms is to reduce food wastage by giving schools more flexibility in creating menus and offering more à la carte options. In the wake this rollout, there has been some concern voiced that schools will begin to offer less nutritional options. Unfortunately, this concern may be true in some districts, but it is pretty clear that the current guidelines are a significant contributor to food wastage without offering much of an upside. It may be time to lessen the record-keeping burden on local food services, and allow them some leeway in creating more appealing options while taking advantage of local food sources.

With or without the new guidelines, we are asking public schools to cater to multiple cohorts of students whose parents have put them on the bus in the morning as mismanaged picky eaters.

What would have worked at home could work at school. That strategy is to offer a child a balanced diet presented in an appealing manner in a pleasant setting. Also it is not allowing any sweetened beverages or milk in excess. Children may grumble temporarily but if the strategy is applied consistently, they will take it from there. That doesn’t mean that the children have to put the food on their trays if they don’t want it. But they shouldn’t be offered a second run through the cafeteria line or a chance to pick from the share table. Sadly, the success of this strategy relies on two shaky premises: That parents will begin to apply it at home and that school lunch programs will offer only healthy choices.

The bottom line is that schools can’t be expected to cure picky eaters who were enabled at home. On the other hand, it is not unreasonable to ask schools to play a role in curbing the national scourge of food wastage.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Most of us did our postgraduate training in tertiary medical centers, ivory towers of medicine often attached to or closely affiliated with medical schools. These are the places where the buck stops. Occasionally, a very complex patient might be sent to another tertiary center that claims to have a supersubspecialist, a one-of-a-kind physician with nationally recognized expertise. But for most patients, the tertiary medical center is the end of the line, and his or her physicians must manage with the resources at hand. They may confer with one another but there is no place for them to pass the buck.

Yuri_Arcurs/DigitalVision/Getty Images

But most of us who chose primary care left the comforting cocoon of the teaching hospital complex when we finished our training. Those first few months and years in the hinterland can be angst producing. Until we have established our own personal networks of consultants and mentors, patients with more than run-of-the-mill complaints may prompt us to reach for the phone or fire off an email call for help to our recently departed mother ship.

It can take awhile to establish the self-confidence – or at least the appearance of self-confidence – that physicians are expected to exude. But even after years of experience, none of us wants to watch a patient die or suffer preventable complications under our care when we know there is another facility that can provide a higher lever of care just an ambulance ride or short helicopter trip away.

Our primary concern is of course assuring that our patient is receiving the best care. How quickly we reach for the phone to refer out the most fragile patients depends on several factors. Do we practice in a community that has a historic reputation of having a low threshold for malpractice suits? How well do we know the patient and her family? Have we had time to establish bidirectional trust?

Is the patient’s diagnosis one that we feel comfortable with or is the diagnosis one that we believe could quickly deteriorate without warning? For example, a recently published study revealed that 20% of pediatric trauma patients were overtriaged and that the mechanism of injury – firearms or motor vehicle accidents – appeared to have an outsized influence in the triage decision (Trauma Surg Acute Care Open. 2019 Dec 29. doi: 10.1136/tsaco-2019-000300).

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

Because I have no experience with firearm injuries and minimal experience with motor vehicle injuries I can understand why the emergency medical technicians might be quick to ship these patients to the trauma center. However, I hope that, were I offered better training and more opportunities to gain experience with these types of injuries, I would have a lower overtriage percentage.

Which begs the question of what is an acceptable rate of overtriage or overreferral? It’s the same old question of how many normal appendixes should one remove to avoid a fatal outcome. Each of us arrives at a given clinical crossroads with our own level of experience and comfort level. Our level of confidence in our local peer and specialty support network helps us decide when it is time to transfer a patient to a higher-level facility.

But in the final analysis it boils down to a personal decision and our own basic level of anxiety. Let’s face it, some of us worry more than others. Physicians come in all shades of anxiety. A hot potato in your hands may feel only room temperature to me.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Most of us did our postgraduate training in tertiary medical centers, ivory towers of medicine often attached to or closely affiliated with medical schools. These are the places where the buck stops. Occasionally, a very complex patient might be sent to another tertiary center that claims to have a supersubspecialist, a one-of-a-kind physician with nationally recognized expertise. But for most patients, the tertiary medical center is the end of the line, and his or her physicians must manage with the resources at hand. They may confer with one another but there is no place for them to pass the buck.

Yuri_Arcurs/DigitalVision/Getty Images

But most of us who chose primary care left the comforting cocoon of the teaching hospital complex when we finished our training. Those first few months and years in the hinterland can be angst producing. Until we have established our own personal networks of consultants and mentors, patients with more than run-of-the-mill complaints may prompt us to reach for the phone or fire off an email call for help to our recently departed mother ship.

It can take awhile to establish the self-confidence – or at least the appearance of self-confidence – that physicians are expected to exude. But even after years of experience, none of us wants to watch a patient die or suffer preventable complications under our care when we know there is another facility that can provide a higher lever of care just an ambulance ride or short helicopter trip away.

Our primary concern is of course assuring that our patient is receiving the best care. How quickly we reach for the phone to refer out the most fragile patients depends on several factors. Do we practice in a community that has a historic reputation of having a low threshold for malpractice suits? How well do we know the patient and her family? Have we had time to establish bidirectional trust?

Is the patient’s diagnosis one that we feel comfortable with or is the diagnosis one that we believe could quickly deteriorate without warning? For example, a recently published study revealed that 20% of pediatric trauma patients were overtriaged and that the mechanism of injury – firearms or motor vehicle accidents – appeared to have an outsized influence in the triage decision (Trauma Surg Acute Care Open. 2019 Dec 29. doi: 10.1136/tsaco-2019-000300).

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

Because I have no experience with firearm injuries and minimal experience with motor vehicle injuries I can understand why the emergency medical technicians might be quick to ship these patients to the trauma center. However, I hope that, were I offered better training and more opportunities to gain experience with these types of injuries, I would have a lower overtriage percentage.

Which begs the question of what is an acceptable rate of overtriage or overreferral? It’s the same old question of how many normal appendixes should one remove to avoid a fatal outcome. Each of us arrives at a given clinical crossroads with our own level of experience and comfort level. Our level of confidence in our local peer and specialty support network helps us decide when it is time to transfer a patient to a higher-level facility.

But in the final analysis it boils down to a personal decision and our own basic level of anxiety. Let’s face it, some of us worry more than others. Physicians come in all shades of anxiety. A hot potato in your hands may feel only room temperature to me.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

Most of us did our postgraduate training in tertiary medical centers, ivory towers of medicine often attached to or closely affiliated with medical schools. These are the places where the buck stops. Occasionally, a very complex patient might be sent to another tertiary center that claims to have a supersubspecialist, a one-of-a-kind physician with nationally recognized expertise. But for most patients, the tertiary medical center is the end of the line, and his or her physicians must manage with the resources at hand. They may confer with one another but there is no place for them to pass the buck.

Yuri_Arcurs/DigitalVision/Getty Images

But most of us who chose primary care left the comforting cocoon of the teaching hospital complex when we finished our training. Those first few months and years in the hinterland can be angst producing. Until we have established our own personal networks of consultants and mentors, patients with more than run-of-the-mill complaints may prompt us to reach for the phone or fire off an email call for help to our recently departed mother ship.

It can take awhile to establish the self-confidence – or at least the appearance of self-confidence – that physicians are expected to exude. But even after years of experience, none of us wants to watch a patient die or suffer preventable complications under our care when we know there is another facility that can provide a higher lever of care just an ambulance ride or short helicopter trip away.

Our primary concern is of course assuring that our patient is receiving the best care. How quickly we reach for the phone to refer out the most fragile patients depends on several factors. Do we practice in a community that has a historic reputation of having a low threshold for malpractice suits? How well do we know the patient and her family? Have we had time to establish bidirectional trust?

Is the patient’s diagnosis one that we feel comfortable with or is the diagnosis one that we believe could quickly deteriorate without warning? For example, a recently published study revealed that 20% of pediatric trauma patients were overtriaged and that the mechanism of injury – firearms or motor vehicle accidents – appeared to have an outsized influence in the triage decision (Trauma Surg Acute Care Open. 2019 Dec 29. doi: 10.1136/tsaco-2019-000300).

Courtesy Dr. William G. Wilkoff

Because I have no experience with firearm injuries and minimal experience with motor vehicle injuries I can understand why the emergency medical technicians might be quick to ship these patients to the trauma center. However, I hope that, were I offered better training and more opportunities to gain experience with these types of injuries, I would have a lower overtriage percentage.

Which begs the question of what is an acceptable rate of overtriage or overreferral? It’s the same old question of how many normal appendixes should one remove to avoid a fatal outcome. Each of us arrives at a given clinical crossroads with our own level of experience and comfort level. Our level of confidence in our local peer and specialty support network helps us decide when it is time to transfer a patient to a higher-level facility.

But in the final analysis it boils down to a personal decision and our own basic level of anxiety. Let’s face it, some of us worry more than others. Physicians come in all shades of anxiety. A hot potato in your hands may feel only room temperature to me.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The time has come for good men and women to unite and rise up against a common foe. For too long nurses and doctors have labored under the tyranny of a dictator who claimed to help them provide high-quality care for their patients while at the same time cutting their paperwork to nil. But like most autocrats he failed to engage his subjects in a meaningful dialogue as each new version of his promised improvements rolled off the drawing board. When the caregivers were slow to adopt these new nonsystems he offered them financial incentives and issued threats to their survival. Although they were warned that there might be uncomfortable adjustment periods, the caregivers were promised that the steep learning curves would level out and their professional lives would again be valued and productive.

Of course, the dictator is not a single person but a motley and disorganized conglomerate of user- and patient-unfriendly electronic health record nonsystems. Ask almost any nurse or physician for her feelings about computer-based medical record systems, and you will hear tales of long hours, disengagement, and frustration. Caregivers are unhappy at all levels, and patients have grown tired of their nurses and physicians spending most of their time looking at computer screens.

You certainly have heard this all before. But you are hearing it in hospital hallways and grocery store checkout lines as a low rumble of discontent emerging from separate individuals, not as a well-articulated and widely distributed voice of physicians as a group. To some extent this relative silence is because there is no such group, at least not in same mold as a labor union. The term “labor union” may make you uncomfortable. But given the current climate in medicine, unionizing may be the best and only way to effect change.

But organizing to effect change in the workplace isn’t part of the physician genome. In the 1960s, a group of house officers in Boston engaged in a heal-in to successfully improve their salaries and working conditions. But over the ensuing half century physicians have remained tragically silent in the face of a changing workplace landscape in which they have gone from being independent owner operators in control of their destinies to becoming employees feeling powerless to improve their working conditions. This perceived impotence has escalated in the face of the challenge posed by the introduction of dysfunctional EHRs.

Ironically, a solution is at almost every physician’s elbow. In a recent New York Times opinion piece Theresa Brown and Stephen Bergman acknowledge that physicians don’t seem prepared to mount a meaningful response to the challenge to the failed promise of EHRs (“Doctors, Nurses and the Paperwork Crisis That Could Unite Them,” Dec. 31, 2019). They point out that, over the last half century, physicians have remained isolated on the sidelines, finding just enough voice to grumble. Nurses have in a variety of situations organized to effect change in their working conditions – in some cases by forming labor unions.

The authors of this op-ed piece, a physician and a nurse, make a strong argument that the time has come for nurses and doctors shake off the shackles of their stereotypic roles and join in creating a loud, forceful, and effective voice to demand a working environment in which the computer functions as an asset and no longer as the terrible burden it has become. Neither group has the power to do it alone, but together they may be able to turn the tide. For physicians it will probably mean venturing several steps outside of their comfort zone. But working shoulder to shoulder with nurses may provide the courage to speak out.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The time has come for good men and women to unite and rise up against a common foe. For too long nurses and doctors have labored under the tyranny of a dictator who claimed to help them provide high-quality care for their patients while at the same time cutting their paperwork to nil. But like most autocrats he failed to engage his subjects in a meaningful dialogue as each new version of his promised improvements rolled off the drawing board. When the caregivers were slow to adopt these new nonsystems he offered them financial incentives and issued threats to their survival. Although they were warned that there might be uncomfortable adjustment periods, the caregivers were promised that the steep learning curves would level out and their professional lives would again be valued and productive.

Of course, the dictator is not a single person but a motley and disorganized conglomerate of user- and patient-unfriendly electronic health record nonsystems. Ask almost any nurse or physician for her feelings about computer-based medical record systems, and you will hear tales of long hours, disengagement, and frustration. Caregivers are unhappy at all levels, and patients have grown tired of their nurses and physicians spending most of their time looking at computer screens.

You certainly have heard this all before. But you are hearing it in hospital hallways and grocery store checkout lines as a low rumble of discontent emerging from separate individuals, not as a well-articulated and widely distributed voice of physicians as a group. To some extent this relative silence is because there is no such group, at least not in same mold as a labor union. The term “labor union” may make you uncomfortable. But given the current climate in medicine, unionizing may be the best and only way to effect change.

But organizing to effect change in the workplace isn’t part of the physician genome. In the 1960s, a group of house officers in Boston engaged in a heal-in to successfully improve their salaries and working conditions. But over the ensuing half century physicians have remained tragically silent in the face of a changing workplace landscape in which they have gone from being independent owner operators in control of their destinies to becoming employees feeling powerless to improve their working conditions. This perceived impotence has escalated in the face of the challenge posed by the introduction of dysfunctional EHRs.

Ironically, a solution is at almost every physician’s elbow. In a recent New York Times opinion piece Theresa Brown and Stephen Bergman acknowledge that physicians don’t seem prepared to mount a meaningful response to the challenge to the failed promise of EHRs (“Doctors, Nurses and the Paperwork Crisis That Could Unite Them,” Dec. 31, 2019). They point out that, over the last half century, physicians have remained isolated on the sidelines, finding just enough voice to grumble. Nurses have in a variety of situations organized to effect change in their working conditions – in some cases by forming labor unions.

The authors of this op-ed piece, a physician and a nurse, make a strong argument that the time has come for nurses and doctors shake off the shackles of their stereotypic roles and join in creating a loud, forceful, and effective voice to demand a working environment in which the computer functions as an asset and no longer as the terrible burden it has become. Neither group has the power to do it alone, but together they may be able to turn the tide. For physicians it will probably mean venturing several steps outside of their comfort zone. But working shoulder to shoulder with nurses may provide the courage to speak out.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The time has come for good men and women to unite and rise up against a common foe. For too long nurses and doctors have labored under the tyranny of a dictator who claimed to help them provide high-quality care for their patients while at the same time cutting their paperwork to nil. But like most autocrats he failed to engage his subjects in a meaningful dialogue as each new version of his promised improvements rolled off the drawing board. When the caregivers were slow to adopt these new nonsystems he offered them financial incentives and issued threats to their survival. Although they were warned that there might be uncomfortable adjustment periods, the caregivers were promised that the steep learning curves would level out and their professional lives would again be valued and productive.

Of course, the dictator is not a single person but a motley and disorganized conglomerate of user- and patient-unfriendly electronic health record nonsystems. Ask almost any nurse or physician for her feelings about computer-based medical record systems, and you will hear tales of long hours, disengagement, and frustration. Caregivers are unhappy at all levels, and patients have grown tired of their nurses and physicians spending most of their time looking at computer screens.

You certainly have heard this all before. But you are hearing it in hospital hallways and grocery store checkout lines as a low rumble of discontent emerging from separate individuals, not as a well-articulated and widely distributed voice of physicians as a group. To some extent this relative silence is because there is no such group, at least not in same mold as a labor union. The term “labor union” may make you uncomfortable. But given the current climate in medicine, unionizing may be the best and only way to effect change.

But organizing to effect change in the workplace isn’t part of the physician genome. In the 1960s, a group of house officers in Boston engaged in a heal-in to successfully improve their salaries and working conditions. But over the ensuing half century physicians have remained tragically silent in the face of a changing workplace landscape in which they have gone from being independent owner operators in control of their destinies to becoming employees feeling powerless to improve their working conditions. This perceived impotence has escalated in the face of the challenge posed by the introduction of dysfunctional EHRs.

Ironically, a solution is at almost every physician’s elbow. In a recent New York Times opinion piece Theresa Brown and Stephen Bergman acknowledge that physicians don’t seem prepared to mount a meaningful response to the challenge to the failed promise of EHRs (“Doctors, Nurses and the Paperwork Crisis That Could Unite Them,” Dec. 31, 2019). They point out that, over the last half century, physicians have remained isolated on the sidelines, finding just enough voice to grumble. Nurses have in a variety of situations organized to effect change in their working conditions – in some cases by forming labor unions.

The authors of this op-ed piece, a physician and a nurse, make a strong argument that the time has come for nurses and doctors shake off the shackles of their stereotypic roles and join in creating a loud, forceful, and effective voice to demand a working environment in which the computer functions as an asset and no longer as the terrible burden it has become. Neither group has the power to do it alone, but together they may be able to turn the tide. For physicians it will probably mean venturing several steps outside of their comfort zone. But working shoulder to shoulder with nurses may provide the courage to speak out.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You probably still remember your pediatrician. Your relationship with her may have influenced your decision to become a physician. She was your parents’ go-to source for pretty much anything to do with your health. You had a primary care physician in large part because your parents felt that children were particularly vulnerable to disease and wanted to avoid any missteps on your road to maturity. On the other hand, while you were growing up your parents probably were much less concerned about their own health. Their peers and friends seemed healthy enough; why would they need annual checkups? Your folks made sure they had life insurance because accidental death and injury felt like more pressing concerns. If they had a primary physician, they may have visited him infrequently. They may have been more likely to visit their dentist, in part because the office put a strong emphasis on the value of preventive care.

monkeybusinessimages/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A recent survey from Harvard Medical School, Boston, determined that, in 2015, 75% of adult Americans had an established source of primary care. (“Fewer Americans are getting primary care,” Jake Miller, the Harvard Gazette, Dec. 16, 2019). This number sounds pretty good and not unexpected until you learn that in 2002 that number was 77%. While 2% seems like a drop in the bucket, remember we live in a very populous bucket, and that 2% translates to millions fewer Americans who are not receiving primary care than did more than a decade ago.

While the researchers don’t have data to explain the decline in primary care, they suggest raising the pay of primary care physicians, incentivizing rural practice, and making health insurance more available and affordable as solutions. Of course these recommendations are not surprising. We’ve heard them before. More supply might translate into more usage. But could some of the decline in primary care be because it no longer feels relevant to a population that has become accustomed to instant gratification? One click and the thing you didn’t feel like waiting for in line today is on your doorstep tomorrow, or even sooner.

If we want to create meaningful change, we need to learn a thing or two about marketing from the competition and from the successful businesses who are shaping consumer behavior. It’s not surprising that, when people feel healthy (whether they are or not), they will devalue primary care. But if they sprain an ankle or have a cough that is keeping them up at night, they would like some medical attention ... now. And that will drive them away from primary care toward sources of fragmented care – the doc-in-the-box, the walk-in clinic, or even more unfortunately to the local emergency department.

If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to welcome them in the door ... when they feel a need. Once in the door we can establish rapport and show them there is a value to primary care while they are feeling grateful for the prompt attention we gave them. But too many primary care practices are shunting potential patients into fragmented care by appearing unwelcome to minor emergencies and by creating customer-unfriendly communication networks. Most people I know would be happy to go back to the old days of “take two aspirin and call me in the morning” primary care. At least you had talked to a doctor in real time, and you knew that he or she would see you the next day if you still had a problem.

You may think I’ve suddenly gone utopian. But there are ways to run a practice that welcomes patients with minor complaints on short notice. It requires some flexibility, some willingness to work longer on some days, and being more efficient. If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to provide services they see as relevant to their needs in real time.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You probably still remember your pediatrician. Your relationship with her may have influenced your decision to become a physician. She was your parents’ go-to source for pretty much anything to do with your health. You had a primary care physician in large part because your parents felt that children were particularly vulnerable to disease and wanted to avoid any missteps on your road to maturity. On the other hand, while you were growing up your parents probably were much less concerned about their own health. Their peers and friends seemed healthy enough; why would they need annual checkups? Your folks made sure they had life insurance because accidental death and injury felt like more pressing concerns. If they had a primary physician, they may have visited him infrequently. They may have been more likely to visit their dentist, in part because the office put a strong emphasis on the value of preventive care.

monkeybusinessimages/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A recent survey from Harvard Medical School, Boston, determined that, in 2015, 75% of adult Americans had an established source of primary care. (“Fewer Americans are getting primary care,” Jake Miller, the Harvard Gazette, Dec. 16, 2019). This number sounds pretty good and not unexpected until you learn that in 2002 that number was 77%. While 2% seems like a drop in the bucket, remember we live in a very populous bucket, and that 2% translates to millions fewer Americans who are not receiving primary care than did more than a decade ago.

While the researchers don’t have data to explain the decline in primary care, they suggest raising the pay of primary care physicians, incentivizing rural practice, and making health insurance more available and affordable as solutions. Of course these recommendations are not surprising. We’ve heard them before. More supply might translate into more usage. But could some of the decline in primary care be because it no longer feels relevant to a population that has become accustomed to instant gratification? One click and the thing you didn’t feel like waiting for in line today is on your doorstep tomorrow, or even sooner.

If we want to create meaningful change, we need to learn a thing or two about marketing from the competition and from the successful businesses who are shaping consumer behavior. It’s not surprising that, when people feel healthy (whether they are or not), they will devalue primary care. But if they sprain an ankle or have a cough that is keeping them up at night, they would like some medical attention ... now. And that will drive them away from primary care toward sources of fragmented care – the doc-in-the-box, the walk-in clinic, or even more unfortunately to the local emergency department.

If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to welcome them in the door ... when they feel a need. Once in the door we can establish rapport and show them there is a value to primary care while they are feeling grateful for the prompt attention we gave them. But too many primary care practices are shunting potential patients into fragmented care by appearing unwelcome to minor emergencies and by creating customer-unfriendly communication networks. Most people I know would be happy to go back to the old days of “take two aspirin and call me in the morning” primary care. At least you had talked to a doctor in real time, and you knew that he or she would see you the next day if you still had a problem.

You may think I’ve suddenly gone utopian. But there are ways to run a practice that welcomes patients with minor complaints on short notice. It requires some flexibility, some willingness to work longer on some days, and being more efficient. If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to provide services they see as relevant to their needs in real time.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

You probably still remember your pediatrician. Your relationship with her may have influenced your decision to become a physician. She was your parents’ go-to source for pretty much anything to do with your health. You had a primary care physician in large part because your parents felt that children were particularly vulnerable to disease and wanted to avoid any missteps on your road to maturity. On the other hand, while you were growing up your parents probably were much less concerned about their own health. Their peers and friends seemed healthy enough; why would they need annual checkups? Your folks made sure they had life insurance because accidental death and injury felt like more pressing concerns. If they had a primary physician, they may have visited him infrequently. They may have been more likely to visit their dentist, in part because the office put a strong emphasis on the value of preventive care.

monkeybusinessimages/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A recent survey from Harvard Medical School, Boston, determined that, in 2015, 75% of adult Americans had an established source of primary care. (“Fewer Americans are getting primary care,” Jake Miller, the Harvard Gazette, Dec. 16, 2019). This number sounds pretty good and not unexpected until you learn that in 2002 that number was 77%. While 2% seems like a drop in the bucket, remember we live in a very populous bucket, and that 2% translates to millions fewer Americans who are not receiving primary care than did more than a decade ago.

While the researchers don’t have data to explain the decline in primary care, they suggest raising the pay of primary care physicians, incentivizing rural practice, and making health insurance more available and affordable as solutions. Of course these recommendations are not surprising. We’ve heard them before. More supply might translate into more usage. But could some of the decline in primary care be because it no longer feels relevant to a population that has become accustomed to instant gratification? One click and the thing you didn’t feel like waiting for in line today is on your doorstep tomorrow, or even sooner.

If we want to create meaningful change, we need to learn a thing or two about marketing from the competition and from the successful businesses who are shaping consumer behavior. It’s not surprising that, when people feel healthy (whether they are or not), they will devalue primary care. But if they sprain an ankle or have a cough that is keeping them up at night, they would like some medical attention ... now. And that will drive them away from primary care toward sources of fragmented care – the doc-in-the-box, the walk-in clinic, or even more unfortunately to the local emergency department.

If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to welcome them in the door ... when they feel a need. Once in the door we can establish rapport and show them there is a value to primary care while they are feeling grateful for the prompt attention we gave them. But too many primary care practices are shunting potential patients into fragmented care by appearing unwelcome to minor emergencies and by creating customer-unfriendly communication networks. Most people I know would be happy to go back to the old days of “take two aspirin and call me in the morning” primary care. At least you had talked to a doctor in real time, and you knew that he or she would see you the next day if you still had a problem.

You may think I’ve suddenly gone utopian. But there are ways to run a practice that welcomes patients with minor complaints on short notice. It requires some flexibility, some willingness to work longer on some days, and being more efficient. If we want more people to establish relationships with primary care providers, we need to provide services they see as relevant to their needs in real time.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first time I was sure I was witnessing someone vaping occurred when I saw an alarming cloud of smoke billowing from driver’s side window of the car in front of me. My initial concern was that vehicle was on fire. But none of the other drivers around me seemed concerned and as I pulled up next to the car I could see the driver ostentatiously inhaling deeply in preparation for releasing another monstrous cloud of vapor.

However, you probably have learned, as have I, that most vaping is done furtively. In fact, the pocketability of vaping devices is part of their appeal to teenagers. Hiding a lit cigarette in one’s pocket is something even the most risk-loving adolescent usually won’t attempt. I suspect that regardless of what is in the vapor, the high one can get by putting one over on the school administration by vaping in the school restroom or in the middle of history class is a temptation that many teenagers can’t resist.

Listening to educators, substance abuse counselors, and police officers who have first hand knowledge, it’s clear that vaping is an activity that’s very difficult to detect and police. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, but if it’s just a vapor it is easy to hide.

Part of the problem seems to be that vaping was flying under the radar and expanding rapidly long before educators, parents, and I fear physicians woke up to the severity and magnitude of the problem. And now everybody is playing catchup.

Of course the initial, and as yet unconfirmed, notion that e-cigarettes might provide a viable strategy for tobacco withdrawal has added confusion to the mix. It turns out that vaping can provide many orders of magnitude more nicotine in a small volume than cigarettes, which creates an outsized addiction potential for those more vulnerable users – even with a very short history of use. My experts tell me that this level of addiction has forced them to consider strategies and dosages far beyond those they are accustomed to using with patients whose addiction stems from standard cigarette use.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first time I was sure I was witnessing someone vaping occurred when I saw an alarming cloud of smoke billowing from driver’s side window of the car in front of me. My initial concern was that vehicle was on fire. But none of the other drivers around me seemed concerned and as I pulled up next to the car I could see the driver ostentatiously inhaling deeply in preparation for releasing another monstrous cloud of vapor.

However, you probably have learned, as have I, that most vaping is done furtively. In fact, the pocketability of vaping devices is part of their appeal to teenagers. Hiding a lit cigarette in one’s pocket is something even the most risk-loving adolescent usually won’t attempt. I suspect that regardless of what is in the vapor, the high one can get by putting one over on the school administration by vaping in the school restroom or in the middle of history class is a temptation that many teenagers can’t resist.

Listening to educators, substance abuse counselors, and police officers who have first hand knowledge, it’s clear that vaping is an activity that’s very difficult to detect and police. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, but if it’s just a vapor it is easy to hide.

Part of the problem seems to be that vaping was flying under the radar and expanding rapidly long before educators, parents, and I fear physicians woke up to the severity and magnitude of the problem. And now everybody is playing catchup.

Of course the initial, and as yet unconfirmed, notion that e-cigarettes might provide a viable strategy for tobacco withdrawal has added confusion to the mix. It turns out that vaping can provide many orders of magnitude more nicotine in a small volume than cigarettes, which creates an outsized addiction potential for those more vulnerable users – even with a very short history of use. My experts tell me that this level of addiction has forced them to consider strategies and dosages far beyond those they are accustomed to using with patients whose addiction stems from standard cigarette use.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

The first time I was sure I was witnessing someone vaping occurred when I saw an alarming cloud of smoke billowing from driver’s side window of the car in front of me. My initial concern was that vehicle was on fire. But none of the other drivers around me seemed concerned and as I pulled up next to the car I could see the driver ostentatiously inhaling deeply in preparation for releasing another monstrous cloud of vapor.

However, you probably have learned, as have I, that most vaping is done furtively. In fact, the pocketability of vaping devices is part of their appeal to teenagers. Hiding a lit cigarette in one’s pocket is something even the most risk-loving adolescent usually won’t attempt. I suspect that regardless of what is in the vapor, the high one can get by putting one over on the school administration by vaping in the school restroom or in the middle of history class is a temptation that many teenagers can’t resist.

Listening to educators, substance abuse counselors, and police officers who have first hand knowledge, it’s clear that vaping is an activity that’s very difficult to detect and police. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, but if it’s just a vapor it is easy to hide.

Part of the problem seems to be that vaping was flying under the radar and expanding rapidly long before educators, parents, and I fear physicians woke up to the severity and magnitude of the problem. And now everybody is playing catchup.

Of course the initial, and as yet unconfirmed, notion that e-cigarettes might provide a viable strategy for tobacco withdrawal has added confusion to the mix. It turns out that vaping can provide many orders of magnitude more nicotine in a small volume than cigarettes, which creates an outsized addiction potential for those more vulnerable users – even with a very short history of use. My experts tell me that this level of addiction has forced them to consider strategies and dosages far beyond those they are accustomed to using with patients whose addiction stems from standard cigarette use.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In North America, breakfast is the most personal of all the traditional daily meals and usually the one at which people show the least amount of day-to-day variation.

FluxFactory/E+

For example, since retiring from active practice I eat three scrambled eggs and bowl of fresh fruit every morning (yes, I have my lipid screen done annually and it’s fine). When I was a child there were stretches measuring in years during which I would eat the same cold cereal and drink a glass of orange juice. As an adolescent trying to bulk up for football, there was a breakfast-in-a-glass that I drank along with the cereal every morning. There was the frozen waffle decade.

When I was a busy general pediatrician, the meals were short on preparation and equally short on variety. But I always had something to eat before heading out for the day. That’s what my folks did, and that’s the pattern my wife and I programmed into our children. I think my dietary history is not unique. Most people don’t have time for a complex breakfast, and in many cases, they aren’t feeling terribly adventuresome when it comes to food at 6 or 7 in the morning. Breakfast is more of a habit than an event to satisfy one’s hunger. Several generations ago, breakfast was a big deal. Men (and occasionally women) were headed out for a day of demanding physical labor and stoking the furnace at the beginning of the day made sense. In farm families, breakfast was a major meal after the morning chores were completed. Those Norman Rockwellesque days are behind us, and breakfast has receded into a minor nutritional role.

For many adults, it’s just something to chew on with a cup of a stimulant liquid. In some families, breakfast has disappeared completely. For as long as there have been dietitians and nutritionists, we have been told that breakfast can be the most important meal of the day. And for a child, the failure to eat breakfast could jeopardize his or her ability to perform in school. I guess at face value this dictum makes sense, but I’ve never been terribly impressed with the evidence supporting it. A recent study from England has gotten me thinking about the whole issue of breakfast and school performance again (“associations between habitual school-day breakfast consumption frequency and academic performance in British adolescents.” Front Public Health. 2019 Nov 20. doi. 10.3389/fpubh.2019.00283). A trio of researchers at the Human Appetite Research Unit of the School of Psychology, University of Leeds (England), found that in the study group of nearly 300 adolescents aged 16-18 years, the students who frequently skipped breakfast performed more poorly on a battery of standardized national tests. Well, I guess we have to chalk another one up for the dietitians and nutritionists. But let’s think this through again. The authors observe in the discussion of their results that “breakfast quality was not considered in the analysis and therefore conclusions regarding what aspects of breakfast are correlated with academic performance cannot be drawn.”

Maybe it’s not the food consumed at breakfast but merely taking part in the event itself that is associated with better school performance. Could it be that families who don’t give breakfast a priority also don’t prioritize school work? Maybe teenagers with poor sleep hygiene who are habitually difficult to awaken in the morning don’t have time to eat breakfast. It is likely their sleep deprivation is more of a factor in their school performance than the small nutritional deficit that they have incurred by not eating breakfast. The study that might answer these questions hasn’t been done yet. And maybe it doesn’t need to be done. We don’t need to be asking children what they have for breakfast. But we should be entering into a dialogue that begins with “Why don’t you have breakfast?” The answers may lead into a productive discussion with the family about more important contributors to poor school performance.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In North America, breakfast is the most personal of all the traditional daily meals and usually the one at which people show the least amount of day-to-day variation.

FluxFactory/E+

For example, since retiring from active practice I eat three scrambled eggs and bowl of fresh fruit every morning (yes, I have my lipid screen done annually and it’s fine). When I was a child there were stretches measuring in years during which I would eat the same cold cereal and drink a glass of orange juice. As an adolescent trying to bulk up for football, there was a breakfast-in-a-glass that I drank along with the cereal every morning. There was the frozen waffle decade.

When I was a busy general pediatrician, the meals were short on preparation and equally short on variety. But I always had something to eat before heading out for the day. That’s what my folks did, and that’s the pattern my wife and I programmed into our children. I think my dietary history is not unique. Most people don’t have time for a complex breakfast, and in many cases, they aren’t feeling terribly adventuresome when it comes to food at 6 or 7 in the morning. Breakfast is more of a habit than an event to satisfy one’s hunger. Several generations ago, breakfast was a big deal. Men (and occasionally women) were headed out for a day of demanding physical labor and stoking the furnace at the beginning of the day made sense. In farm families, breakfast was a major meal after the morning chores were completed. Those Norman Rockwellesque days are behind us, and breakfast has receded into a minor nutritional role.

For many adults, it’s just something to chew on with a cup of a stimulant liquid. In some families, breakfast has disappeared completely. For as long as there have been dietitians and nutritionists, we have been told that breakfast can be the most important meal of the day. And for a child, the failure to eat breakfast could jeopardize his or her ability to perform in school. I guess at face value this dictum makes sense, but I’ve never been terribly impressed with the evidence supporting it. A recent study from England has gotten me thinking about the whole issue of breakfast and school performance again (“associations between habitual school-day breakfast consumption frequency and academic performance in British adolescents.” Front Public Health. 2019 Nov 20. doi. 10.3389/fpubh.2019.00283). A trio of researchers at the Human Appetite Research Unit of the School of Psychology, University of Leeds (England), found that in the study group of nearly 300 adolescents aged 16-18 years, the students who frequently skipped breakfast performed more poorly on a battery of standardized national tests. Well, I guess we have to chalk another one up for the dietitians and nutritionists. But let’s think this through again. The authors observe in the discussion of their results that “breakfast quality was not considered in the analysis and therefore conclusions regarding what aspects of breakfast are correlated with academic performance cannot be drawn.”

Maybe it’s not the food consumed at breakfast but merely taking part in the event itself that is associated with better school performance. Could it be that families who don’t give breakfast a priority also don’t prioritize school work? Maybe teenagers with poor sleep hygiene who are habitually difficult to awaken in the morning don’t have time to eat breakfast. It is likely their sleep deprivation is more of a factor in their school performance than the small nutritional deficit that they have incurred by not eating breakfast. The study that might answer these questions hasn’t been done yet. And maybe it doesn’t need to be done. We don’t need to be asking children what they have for breakfast. But we should be entering into a dialogue that begins with “Why don’t you have breakfast?” The answers may lead into a productive discussion with the family about more important contributors to poor school performance.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

In North America, breakfast is the most personal of all the traditional daily meals and usually the one at which people show the least amount of day-to-day variation.

FluxFactory/E+

For example, since retiring from active practice I eat three scrambled eggs and bowl of fresh fruit every morning (yes, I have my lipid screen done annually and it’s fine). When I was a child there were stretches measuring in years during which I would eat the same cold cereal and drink a glass of orange juice. As an adolescent trying to bulk up for football, there was a breakfast-in-a-glass that I drank along with the cereal every morning. There was the frozen waffle decade.

When I was a busy general pediatrician, the meals were short on preparation and equally short on variety. But I always had something to eat before heading out for the day. That’s what my folks did, and that’s the pattern my wife and I programmed into our children. I think my dietary history is not unique. Most people don’t have time for a complex breakfast, and in many cases, they aren’t feeling terribly adventuresome when it comes to food at 6 or 7 in the morning. Breakfast is more of a habit than an event to satisfy one’s hunger. Several generations ago, breakfast was a big deal. Men (and occasionally women) were headed out for a day of demanding physical labor and stoking the furnace at the beginning of the day made sense. In farm families, breakfast was a major meal after the morning chores were completed. Those Norman Rockwellesque days are behind us, and breakfast has receded into a minor nutritional role.

For many adults, it’s just something to chew on with a cup of a stimulant liquid. In some families, breakfast has disappeared completely. For as long as there have been dietitians and nutritionists, we have been told that breakfast can be the most important meal of the day. And for a child, the failure to eat breakfast could jeopardize his or her ability to perform in school. I guess at face value this dictum makes sense, but I’ve never been terribly impressed with the evidence supporting it. A recent study from England has gotten me thinking about the whole issue of breakfast and school performance again (“associations between habitual school-day breakfast consumption frequency and academic performance in British adolescents.” Front Public Health. 2019 Nov 20. doi. 10.3389/fpubh.2019.00283). A trio of researchers at the Human Appetite Research Unit of the School of Psychology, University of Leeds (England), found that in the study group of nearly 300 adolescents aged 16-18 years, the students who frequently skipped breakfast performed more poorly on a battery of standardized national tests. Well, I guess we have to chalk another one up for the dietitians and nutritionists. But let’s think this through again. The authors observe in the discussion of their results that “breakfast quality was not considered in the analysis and therefore conclusions regarding what aspects of breakfast are correlated with academic performance cannot be drawn.”

Maybe it’s not the food consumed at breakfast but merely taking part in the event itself that is associated with better school performance. Could it be that families who don’t give breakfast a priority also don’t prioritize school work? Maybe teenagers with poor sleep hygiene who are habitually difficult to awaken in the morning don’t have time to eat breakfast. It is likely their sleep deprivation is more of a factor in their school performance than the small nutritional deficit that they have incurred by not eating breakfast. The study that might answer these questions hasn’t been done yet. And maybe it doesn’t need to be done. We don’t need to be asking children what they have for breakfast. But we should be entering into a dialogue that begins with “Why don’t you have breakfast?” The answers may lead into a productive discussion with the family about more important contributors to poor school performance.
 

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

A few weeks ago I was at a Friday-night football game, but not to watch the game. I’ve been there and done that too many times when I used to be the team physician. I was there to listen to my granddaughter drumming in the pep band. And there was a lot of drumming because her high school’s team is having a hot year and outscoring opponents by three and four touchdowns every week.

David Peeters/iStockphoto

At half time, the field was swarmed by 45-50 early grade schoolers looking like bobblehead dolls in their oversize helmets and surprisingly professional-appearing miniature football outfits. Under the lights, on the local college’s turf field, they were in football heaven. The pep band got into it and there was more drumming as the few kids who had a clue what football was about were scampering over and around their teammates and opponents who were roughhousing with each other, rolling around on the turf having a grand time, blissfully unimpressed by such trivial concepts as the line of scrimmage or the difference between blocking and tackling or even offense and defense.

Despite all the alarming articles both lay and professional that you and I see, this was an evening on which no one seemed particularly concerned about sports-related concussions. This is class B football in Maine, not a state well known as an incubator of Division I college football players. While there were a few scrawny kids with some speed, no one in the high school game had enough size or momentum to generate the kinds of collisions one sees with frightening regularity on television.

Watching 4- and 5-year-olds in their football uniforms seemed to me to be a rather harmless exercise and certainly a more positive investment in their time on a Friday night than sitting on the couch with an electronic device clutched in their little hands. A recent report in JAMA Pediatrics suggests that my lack of concern has some validity (“Consensus statement on sports-related concussions in youth sports using a modified delphi approach.” JAMA Pediatr. 2019 Nov 11. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2019.4006). Eleven experts in sports-related injuries were surveyed with multiple rounds of questionnaires. Their anonymous responses were aggregated and shared with the group after each round until a consensus could be arrived on for each of seven broad questions about sports-related concussions. It is a paper worth reading and like most good literature surveys determined that in many situations more study needs to be done.

Among the many findings that impressed me was the group’s failure to find an “association between repetitive head impact exposure in youth and long-term neurocognitive outcomes.” In addition, “there is little evidence that age at first exposure repetitive head impacts in sports is independently associated with neurodegenerative changes.” The experts also could find “no evidence that growth or development affect the risk of sports-related concussions.”

The problem with youth football is that it is the portal that can lead to college and professional football, in which large bodies are allowed to collide after accelerating at speeds we mortals only can achieve behind the wheel of our motor vehicles. Rules to minimize those collisions do exist, but lax enforcement has failed to prevent their cumulative damage.

Whether the culture of big-time football is going to change to a point at which a conscientious parent could encourage his or her child to play after adolescence remains to be seen. However, the evidence seems to suggest that allowing young children to bang themselves around imitating the big guys seems to be reasonably safe. At least as safe as what kids used to do to each other before we adults invented television and video games.

When my son was 3 or 4 years old, he played on a hockey team he thought was called the Toronto Make-Believes (Maple Leafs). Maybe we should be telling parents it’s safe for their children to play make-believe contact sports. The challenge comes after those kids reach puberty and want to start playing the real thing.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

A few weeks ago I was at a Friday-night football game, but not to watch the game. I’ve been there and done that too many times when I used to be the team physician. I was there to listen to my granddaughter drumming in the pep band. And there was a lot of drumming because her high school’s team is having a hot year and outscoring opponents by three and four touchdowns every week.

David Peeters/iStockphoto

At half time, the field was swarmed by 45-50 early grade schoolers looking like bobblehead dolls in their oversize helmets and surprisingly professional-appearing miniature football outfits. Under the lights, on the local college’s turf field, they were in football heaven. The pep band got into it and there was more drumming as the few kids who had a clue what football was about were scampering over and around their teammates and opponents who were roughhousing with each other, rolling around on the turf having a grand time, blissfully unimpressed by such trivial concepts as the line of scrimmage or the difference between blocking and tackling or even offense and defense.

Despite all the alarming articles both lay and professional that you and I see, this was an evening on which no one seemed particularly concerned about sports-related concussions. This is class B football in Maine, not a state well known as an incubator of Division I college football players. While there were a few scrawny kids with some speed, no one in the high school game had enough size or momentum to generate the kinds of collisions one sees with frightening regularity on television.

Watching 4- and 5-year-olds in their football uniforms seemed to me to be a rather harmless exercise and certainly a more positive investment in their time on a Friday night than sitting on the couch with an electronic device clutched in their little hands. A recent report in JAMA Pediatrics suggests that my lack of concern has some validity (“Consensus statement on sports-related concussions in youth sports using a modified delphi approach.” JAMA Pediatr. 2019 Nov 11. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2019.4006). Eleven experts in sports-related injuries were surveyed with multiple rounds of questionnaires. Their anonymous responses were aggregated and shared with the group after each round until a consensus could be arrived on for each of seven broad questions about sports-related concussions. It is a paper worth reading and like most good literature surveys determined that in many situations more study needs to be done.

Among the many findings that impressed me was the group’s failure to find an “association between repetitive head impact exposure in youth and long-term neurocognitive outcomes.” In addition, “there is little evidence that age at first exposure repetitive head impacts in sports is independently associated with neurodegenerative changes.” The experts also could find “no evidence that growth or development affect the risk of sports-related concussions.”

The problem with youth football is that it is the portal that can lead to college and professional football, in which large bodies are allowed to collide after accelerating at speeds we mortals only can achieve behind the wheel of our motor vehicles. Rules to minimize those collisions do exist, but lax enforcement has failed to prevent their cumulative damage.

Whether the culture of big-time football is going to change to a point at which a conscientious parent could encourage his or her child to play after adolescence remains to be seen. However, the evidence seems to suggest that allowing young children to bang themselves around imitating the big guys seems to be reasonably safe. At least as safe as what kids used to do to each other before we adults invented television and video games.

When my son was 3 or 4 years old, he played on a hockey team he thought was called the Toronto Make-Believes (Maple Leafs). Maybe we should be telling parents it’s safe for their children to play make-believe contact sports. The challenge comes after those kids reach puberty and want to start playing the real thing.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.

A few weeks ago I was at a Friday-night football game, but not to watch the game. I’ve been there and done that too many times when I used to be the team physician. I was there to listen to my granddaughter drumming in the pep band. And there was a lot of drumming because her high school’s team is having a hot year and outscoring opponents by three and four touchdowns every week.

David Peeters/iStockphoto

At half time, the field was swarmed by 45-50 early grade schoolers looking like bobblehead dolls in their oversize helmets and surprisingly professional-appearing miniature football outfits. Under the lights, on the local college’s turf field, they were in football heaven. The pep band got into it and there was more drumming as the few kids who had a clue what football was about were scampering over and around their teammates and opponents who were roughhousing with each other, rolling around on the turf having a grand time, blissfully unimpressed by such trivial concepts as the line of scrimmage or the difference between blocking and tackling or even offense and defense.

Despite all the alarming articles both lay and professional that you and I see, this was an evening on which no one seemed particularly concerned about sports-related concussions. This is class B football in Maine, not a state well known as an incubator of Division I college football players. While there were a few scrawny kids with some speed, no one in the high school game had enough size or momentum to generate the kinds of collisions one sees with frightening regularity on television.

Watching 4- and 5-year-olds in their football uniforms seemed to me to be a rather harmless exercise and certainly a more positive investment in their time on a Friday night than sitting on the couch with an electronic device clutched in their little hands. A recent report in JAMA Pediatrics suggests that my lack of concern has some validity (“Consensus statement on sports-related concussions in youth sports using a modified delphi approach.” JAMA Pediatr. 2019 Nov 11. doi: 10.1001/jamapediatrics.2019.4006). Eleven experts in sports-related injuries were surveyed with multiple rounds of questionnaires. Their anonymous responses were aggregated and shared with the group after each round until a consensus could be arrived on for each of seven broad questions about sports-related concussions. It is a paper worth reading and like most good literature surveys determined that in many situations more study needs to be done.

Among the many findings that impressed me was the group’s failure to find an “association between repetitive head impact exposure in youth and long-term neurocognitive outcomes.” In addition, “there is little evidence that age at first exposure repetitive head impacts in sports is independently associated with neurodegenerative changes.” The experts also could find “no evidence that growth or development affect the risk of sports-related concussions.”

The problem with youth football is that it is the portal that can lead to college and professional football, in which large bodies are allowed to collide after accelerating at speeds we mortals only can achieve behind the wheel of our motor vehicles. Rules to minimize those collisions do exist, but lax enforcement has failed to prevent their cumulative damage.

Whether the culture of big-time football is going to change to a point at which a conscientious parent could encourage his or her child to play after adolescence remains to be seen. However, the evidence seems to suggest that allowing young children to bang themselves around imitating the big guys seems to be reasonably safe. At least as safe as what kids used to do to each other before we adults invented television and video games.

When my son was 3 or 4 years old, he played on a hockey team he thought was called the Toronto Make-Believes (Maple Leafs). Maybe we should be telling parents it’s safe for their children to play make-believe contact sports. The challenge comes after those kids reach puberty and want to start playing the real thing.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.