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Let ’em Play: In Defense of Youth Football
Over the last couple of decades, I have become increasingly more uncomfortable watching American-style football on television. Lax refereeing coupled with over-juiced players who can generate g-forces previously attainable only on a NASA rocket sled has resulted in a spate of injuries I find unacceptable. The revolving door of transfers from college to college has made the term scholar-athlete a relic that can be applied to only a handful of players at the smallest uncompetitive schools.
Many of you who are regular readers of Letters from Maine have probably tired of my boasting that when I played football in high school we wore leather helmets. I enjoyed playing football and continued playing in college for a couple of years until it became obvious that “bench” was going to be my usual position. But, I would not want my grandson to play college football. Certainly, not at the elite college level. Were he to do so, he would be putting himself at risk for significant injury by participating in what I no longer view as an appealing activity. Let me add that I am not including chronic traumatic encephalopathy among my concerns, because I think its association with football injuries is far from settled. My concern is more about spinal cord injuries, which, although infrequent, are almost always devastating.
I should also make it perfectly clear that my lack of enthusiasm for college and professional football does not place me among the increasingly vocal throng calling for the elimination of youth football. For the 5- to 12-year-olds, putting on pads and a helmet and scrambling around on a grassy field bumping shoulders and heads with their peers is a wonderful way to burn off energy and satisfies a need for roughhousing that comes naturally to most young boys (and many girls). The chance of anyone of those kids playing youth football reaching the elite college or professional level is extremely unlikely. Other activities and the realization that football is not in their future weeds the field during adolescence.
Although there have been some studies suggesting that starting football at an early age is associated with increased injury risk, a recent and well-controlled study published in the journal Sports Medicine has found no such association in professional football players. This finding makes some sense when you consider that most of the children in this age group are not mustering g-forces anywhere close to those a college or professional athlete can generate.
Another recent study published in the Journal of Pediatrics offers more evidence to consider before one passes judgment on youth football. When reviewing the records of nearly 1500 patients in a specialty-care concussion setting at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, investigators found that recreation-related concussions and non–sport- or recreation-related concussions were more prevalent than sports-related concussions. The authors propose that “less supervision at the time of injury and less access to established concussion healthcare following injury” may explain their observations.
Of course as a card-carrying AARP old fogey, I long for the good old days when youth sports were organized by the kids in backyards and playgrounds. There we learned to pick teams and deal with the disappointment of not being a first-round pick and the embarrassment of being a last rounder. We settled out-of-bounds calls and arguments about ball possession without adults’ assistance — or video replays for that matter. But those days are gone and likely never to return, with parental anxiety running at record highs. We must accept youth sports organized for kids by adults is the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future.
As long as the program is organized with the emphasis on fun nor structured as a fast track to elite play it will be healthier for the kids than sitting on the couch at home watching the carnage on TV.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Over the last couple of decades, I have become increasingly more uncomfortable watching American-style football on television. Lax refereeing coupled with over-juiced players who can generate g-forces previously attainable only on a NASA rocket sled has resulted in a spate of injuries I find unacceptable. The revolving door of transfers from college to college has made the term scholar-athlete a relic that can be applied to only a handful of players at the smallest uncompetitive schools.
Many of you who are regular readers of Letters from Maine have probably tired of my boasting that when I played football in high school we wore leather helmets. I enjoyed playing football and continued playing in college for a couple of years until it became obvious that “bench” was going to be my usual position. But, I would not want my grandson to play college football. Certainly, not at the elite college level. Were he to do so, he would be putting himself at risk for significant injury by participating in what I no longer view as an appealing activity. Let me add that I am not including chronic traumatic encephalopathy among my concerns, because I think its association with football injuries is far from settled. My concern is more about spinal cord injuries, which, although infrequent, are almost always devastating.
I should also make it perfectly clear that my lack of enthusiasm for college and professional football does not place me among the increasingly vocal throng calling for the elimination of youth football. For the 5- to 12-year-olds, putting on pads and a helmet and scrambling around on a grassy field bumping shoulders and heads with their peers is a wonderful way to burn off energy and satisfies a need for roughhousing that comes naturally to most young boys (and many girls). The chance of anyone of those kids playing youth football reaching the elite college or professional level is extremely unlikely. Other activities and the realization that football is not in their future weeds the field during adolescence.
Although there have been some studies suggesting that starting football at an early age is associated with increased injury risk, a recent and well-controlled study published in the journal Sports Medicine has found no such association in professional football players. This finding makes some sense when you consider that most of the children in this age group are not mustering g-forces anywhere close to those a college or professional athlete can generate.
Another recent study published in the Journal of Pediatrics offers more evidence to consider before one passes judgment on youth football. When reviewing the records of nearly 1500 patients in a specialty-care concussion setting at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, investigators found that recreation-related concussions and non–sport- or recreation-related concussions were more prevalent than sports-related concussions. The authors propose that “less supervision at the time of injury and less access to established concussion healthcare following injury” may explain their observations.
Of course as a card-carrying AARP old fogey, I long for the good old days when youth sports were organized by the kids in backyards and playgrounds. There we learned to pick teams and deal with the disappointment of not being a first-round pick and the embarrassment of being a last rounder. We settled out-of-bounds calls and arguments about ball possession without adults’ assistance — or video replays for that matter. But those days are gone and likely never to return, with parental anxiety running at record highs. We must accept youth sports organized for kids by adults is the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future.
As long as the program is organized with the emphasis on fun nor structured as a fast track to elite play it will be healthier for the kids than sitting on the couch at home watching the carnage on TV.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Over the last couple of decades, I have become increasingly more uncomfortable watching American-style football on television. Lax refereeing coupled with over-juiced players who can generate g-forces previously attainable only on a NASA rocket sled has resulted in a spate of injuries I find unacceptable. The revolving door of transfers from college to college has made the term scholar-athlete a relic that can be applied to only a handful of players at the smallest uncompetitive schools.
Many of you who are regular readers of Letters from Maine have probably tired of my boasting that when I played football in high school we wore leather helmets. I enjoyed playing football and continued playing in college for a couple of years until it became obvious that “bench” was going to be my usual position. But, I would not want my grandson to play college football. Certainly, not at the elite college level. Were he to do so, he would be putting himself at risk for significant injury by participating in what I no longer view as an appealing activity. Let me add that I am not including chronic traumatic encephalopathy among my concerns, because I think its association with football injuries is far from settled. My concern is more about spinal cord injuries, which, although infrequent, are almost always devastating.
I should also make it perfectly clear that my lack of enthusiasm for college and professional football does not place me among the increasingly vocal throng calling for the elimination of youth football. For the 5- to 12-year-olds, putting on pads and a helmet and scrambling around on a grassy field bumping shoulders and heads with their peers is a wonderful way to burn off energy and satisfies a need for roughhousing that comes naturally to most young boys (and many girls). The chance of anyone of those kids playing youth football reaching the elite college or professional level is extremely unlikely. Other activities and the realization that football is not in their future weeds the field during adolescence.
Although there have been some studies suggesting that starting football at an early age is associated with increased injury risk, a recent and well-controlled study published in the journal Sports Medicine has found no such association in professional football players. This finding makes some sense when you consider that most of the children in this age group are not mustering g-forces anywhere close to those a college or professional athlete can generate.
Another recent study published in the Journal of Pediatrics offers more evidence to consider before one passes judgment on youth football. When reviewing the records of nearly 1500 patients in a specialty-care concussion setting at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, investigators found that recreation-related concussions and non–sport- or recreation-related concussions were more prevalent than sports-related concussions. The authors propose that “less supervision at the time of injury and less access to established concussion healthcare following injury” may explain their observations.
Of course as a card-carrying AARP old fogey, I long for the good old days when youth sports were organized by the kids in backyards and playgrounds. There we learned to pick teams and deal with the disappointment of not being a first-round pick and the embarrassment of being a last rounder. We settled out-of-bounds calls and arguments about ball possession without adults’ assistance — or video replays for that matter. But those days are gone and likely never to return, with parental anxiety running at record highs. We must accept youth sports organized for kids by adults is the way it’s going to be for the foreseeable future.
As long as the program is organized with the emphasis on fun nor structured as a fast track to elite play it will be healthier for the kids than sitting on the couch at home watching the carnage on TV.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Opioids Post T&A
I recently encountered a study that reviewed return visits of pediatric patients after undergoing adenotonsillectomy. The investigators discovered that pain-related visits were higher for patients who had received prescriptions for opioids. After the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) issued a boxed warning about the use of codeine in postoperative pediatric tonsillectomy with adenoidectomy (T&A), patients pain-related return visits declined and steroid prescriptions increased.
On the surface, this inverse relationship between opioid prescriptions and pain-related visits seems counterintuitive. This is particularly true if you believe that opioids are effective pain medications. The relationship between pain-related visits, steroid use, and the boxed warning is a bit easier to understand and most likely points to the effectiveness of the steroids.
Keeping in mind this was a single-institution study that included more than 5000 patients and more than 700 return visits, we should be careful in reading too much into these results. However, I can’t resist the temptation to use it as a springboard from which to launch a short dissertation on pain management.
First, let’s consider whether there was something about the opioids that was causing more pain for the patients. I’m not aware of any studies that suggest pain as a side effect of codeine. Nausea and vomiting, yes. And, although the investigators were focusing on pain, it may have been that the general discomfort associated with the gastrointestinal effects of the drug were lowering the patients’ pain threshold. I certainly know of many adults who have said that they now avoid opioids postoperatively because of the general sense of unwellness they have experienced during previous surgical adventures.
However, my bias leads me to focus on this question: If the patients didn’t receive opioids postoperatively, were they receiving something else that was making them less likely to arrive at the hospital or clinic complaining of pain? I assume the researchers would have told us about some new alternative miracle painkiller that was being prescribed.
As a card-carrying nihilist in good standing, I am tempted to claim that this is another example of nothing is better than most well-intentioned somethings. However, I am going to posit that these patients were receiving something that lessened their need to seek help with their pain.
Most likely that something was a thoughtful preemptive dialogue postoperatively about what they (and in most cases their parents) might expect in the way of symptoms. And ... an easy-to-reach contact point preferably with a person with whom they were familiar. And ... were scheduled to receive follow up phone calls at intervals relevant to the details of their surgery.
I know many of you are going to say, “We are already doing those things.” And, if so, you are to be commended. And, I’m sure that every outpatient postoperative manual includes all of those common-sense ingredients of good follow-up care. However, you know as well as I do that not all postoperative instructions are delivered with same degree of thoroughness nor with sufficient pauses thoughtfully delivered to make it a real dialogue. Nor is the follow-up contact person as easy to reach as promised.
I’m not sure how much we can thank the FDA boxed warning about codeine for the decrease in postoperative pain-generated visits. However, it could be that when physicians were discouraged from prescribing postoperative opioids, they may have felt the need to lean more heavily on good old-fashioned postoperative follow-up care. Instructions presented more as a dialogue and preemptive follow-up calls made with an aura of caring are well known deterrents of middle-of-the-night calls for help.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I recently encountered a study that reviewed return visits of pediatric patients after undergoing adenotonsillectomy. The investigators discovered that pain-related visits were higher for patients who had received prescriptions for opioids. After the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) issued a boxed warning about the use of codeine in postoperative pediatric tonsillectomy with adenoidectomy (T&A), patients pain-related return visits declined and steroid prescriptions increased.
On the surface, this inverse relationship between opioid prescriptions and pain-related visits seems counterintuitive. This is particularly true if you believe that opioids are effective pain medications. The relationship between pain-related visits, steroid use, and the boxed warning is a bit easier to understand and most likely points to the effectiveness of the steroids.
Keeping in mind this was a single-institution study that included more than 5000 patients and more than 700 return visits, we should be careful in reading too much into these results. However, I can’t resist the temptation to use it as a springboard from which to launch a short dissertation on pain management.
First, let’s consider whether there was something about the opioids that was causing more pain for the patients. I’m not aware of any studies that suggest pain as a side effect of codeine. Nausea and vomiting, yes. And, although the investigators were focusing on pain, it may have been that the general discomfort associated with the gastrointestinal effects of the drug were lowering the patients’ pain threshold. I certainly know of many adults who have said that they now avoid opioids postoperatively because of the general sense of unwellness they have experienced during previous surgical adventures.
However, my bias leads me to focus on this question: If the patients didn’t receive opioids postoperatively, were they receiving something else that was making them less likely to arrive at the hospital or clinic complaining of pain? I assume the researchers would have told us about some new alternative miracle painkiller that was being prescribed.
As a card-carrying nihilist in good standing, I am tempted to claim that this is another example of nothing is better than most well-intentioned somethings. However, I am going to posit that these patients were receiving something that lessened their need to seek help with their pain.
Most likely that something was a thoughtful preemptive dialogue postoperatively about what they (and in most cases their parents) might expect in the way of symptoms. And ... an easy-to-reach contact point preferably with a person with whom they were familiar. And ... were scheduled to receive follow up phone calls at intervals relevant to the details of their surgery.
I know many of you are going to say, “We are already doing those things.” And, if so, you are to be commended. And, I’m sure that every outpatient postoperative manual includes all of those common-sense ingredients of good follow-up care. However, you know as well as I do that not all postoperative instructions are delivered with same degree of thoroughness nor with sufficient pauses thoughtfully delivered to make it a real dialogue. Nor is the follow-up contact person as easy to reach as promised.
I’m not sure how much we can thank the FDA boxed warning about codeine for the decrease in postoperative pain-generated visits. However, it could be that when physicians were discouraged from prescribing postoperative opioids, they may have felt the need to lean more heavily on good old-fashioned postoperative follow-up care. Instructions presented more as a dialogue and preemptive follow-up calls made with an aura of caring are well known deterrents of middle-of-the-night calls for help.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I recently encountered a study that reviewed return visits of pediatric patients after undergoing adenotonsillectomy. The investigators discovered that pain-related visits were higher for patients who had received prescriptions for opioids. After the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) issued a boxed warning about the use of codeine in postoperative pediatric tonsillectomy with adenoidectomy (T&A), patients pain-related return visits declined and steroid prescriptions increased.
On the surface, this inverse relationship between opioid prescriptions and pain-related visits seems counterintuitive. This is particularly true if you believe that opioids are effective pain medications. The relationship between pain-related visits, steroid use, and the boxed warning is a bit easier to understand and most likely points to the effectiveness of the steroids.
Keeping in mind this was a single-institution study that included more than 5000 patients and more than 700 return visits, we should be careful in reading too much into these results. However, I can’t resist the temptation to use it as a springboard from which to launch a short dissertation on pain management.
First, let’s consider whether there was something about the opioids that was causing more pain for the patients. I’m not aware of any studies that suggest pain as a side effect of codeine. Nausea and vomiting, yes. And, although the investigators were focusing on pain, it may have been that the general discomfort associated with the gastrointestinal effects of the drug were lowering the patients’ pain threshold. I certainly know of many adults who have said that they now avoid opioids postoperatively because of the general sense of unwellness they have experienced during previous surgical adventures.
However, my bias leads me to focus on this question: If the patients didn’t receive opioids postoperatively, were they receiving something else that was making them less likely to arrive at the hospital or clinic complaining of pain? I assume the researchers would have told us about some new alternative miracle painkiller that was being prescribed.
As a card-carrying nihilist in good standing, I am tempted to claim that this is another example of nothing is better than most well-intentioned somethings. However, I am going to posit that these patients were receiving something that lessened their need to seek help with their pain.
Most likely that something was a thoughtful preemptive dialogue postoperatively about what they (and in most cases their parents) might expect in the way of symptoms. And ... an easy-to-reach contact point preferably with a person with whom they were familiar. And ... were scheduled to receive follow up phone calls at intervals relevant to the details of their surgery.
I know many of you are going to say, “We are already doing those things.” And, if so, you are to be commended. And, I’m sure that every outpatient postoperative manual includes all of those common-sense ingredients of good follow-up care. However, you know as well as I do that not all postoperative instructions are delivered with same degree of thoroughness nor with sufficient pauses thoughtfully delivered to make it a real dialogue. Nor is the follow-up contact person as easy to reach as promised.
I’m not sure how much we can thank the FDA boxed warning about codeine for the decrease in postoperative pain-generated visits. However, it could be that when physicians were discouraged from prescribing postoperative opioids, they may have felt the need to lean more heavily on good old-fashioned postoperative follow-up care. Instructions presented more as a dialogue and preemptive follow-up calls made with an aura of caring are well known deterrents of middle-of-the-night calls for help.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
The Future of Obesity
I am not planning on having a headstone on my grave, or even having a grave for that matter. However, if my heirs decide to ignore my wishes and opt for some pithy observation chiseled into a tastefully sized granite block, I suspect they might choose “He always knew which way the wind was blowing ... but wasn’t so sure about the tides.” Which aptly describes both my navigational deficiencies they have observed here over my six decades on the Maine coast as well as my general inability to predict the future. Nonetheless, I am going to throw caution to the wind and take this opportunity to ponder where obesity in this country will go over the next couple of decades.
In March of last year the London-based World Obesity Federation published its World Obesity Atlas. In the summary the authors predict that based on current trends “obesity will cost the global economy of US $4 trillion of potential income in 2035, nearly 3% of current global domestic product (GDP).” They envision the “rising prevalence of obesity to be steepest among children and adolescents rising from 10% to 20% of the world’s boys during the period 2029 to 2035, and rising fro 8% to 18% of the world’s girls.”
These dire predictions assume no significant measures to reverse this trajectory such as universal health coverage. Nor do the authors attempt to predict the effect of the growing use of GLP-1 agonists. This omission is surprising and somewhat refreshing given the fact that the project was funded by an unrestricted grant from Novo Nordisk, a major producer of one of these drugs.
Unfortunately, I think it is unlikely that over the next couple of decades any large countries who do not already have a functioning universal health care system will find the political will to develop one capable of reversing the trend toward obesity. Certainly, I don’t see it in the cards for this country.
On the other hand, I can foresee the availability and ease of administration for GLP-1 agonists and similar drugs improving over the near term. However, the cost and availability will continue to widen the separation between the haves and the have-nots, both globally and within each country. This will mean that the countries and population subgroups that already experience the bulk of the economic and health consequences of obesity will continue to shoulder an outsized burden of this “disease.”
It is unclear how much this widening of the fat-getting-fatter dynamic will add to the global and national political unrest that already seems to be tracking the effects of climate change. However, I can’t imaging it is going to be a calming or uniting force.
Narrowing our focus from an international to an individual resource-rich country such as the United States, let’s consider what the significant growth in availability and affordability of GLP-1 agonist drugs will mean. There will certainly be short-term improvements in the morbidity and mortality of some of the obesity related diseases. However, for other conditions it may take longer than two decades for us to notice an effect. While it is tempting to consider these declines as a financial boon for the country that already spends a high percentage of its GDP on healthcare. However, as the well-known Saturday Night Live pundit Roseanne Roseannadanna often observed, ”it’s always something ... if it’s not one thing it’s another.” There may be other non-obesity conditions that surge to fill the gap, leaving us still with a substantial financial burden for healthcare.
Patients taking GLP-1 agonists lose weight because they feel full and eat less food. While currently the number of patients taking these drugs is relatively small, the effect on this country’s food consumption is too small to calculate. However, let’s assume that 20 years from now half of the obese patients are taking appetite blunting medication. Using today’s statistics this means that 50 million adults will be eating significantly less food. Will the agriculturists have gradually adjusted to produce less food? Will this mean there is more food for the those experiencing “food insecurity”? I doubt it. Most food insecurity seems to be a problem of distribution and inequality, not supply.
Physicians now caution patients taking GLP-1 agonists to eat a healthy and balanced diet. When the drugs are more commonly available, will this caution be heeded by the majority? Will we see a population that may no longer be obese but nonetheless malnourished because of bad choices?
And, finally, in a similar vein, will previously obese individuals suddenly or gradually begin to be more physically active once the appetite blunting medicines have helped them lose weight? Here, I have my doubts. Of course, some leaner individuals begin to take advantage of their new body morphology. But, I fear that old sedentary habits will die very slowly for most, and not at all for many. We have built a vehicle-centric society in which being physically active requires making a conscious effort. Electronic devices and sedentary entertainment options are not going to disappear just because a significant percentage of the population is no longer obese.
So there you have it. I suspect that I am correct about which way some of the winds are blowing as the obesity becomes moves into its treatable “disease” phase. But, as always, I haven’t a clue which way the tide is running.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I am not planning on having a headstone on my grave, or even having a grave for that matter. However, if my heirs decide to ignore my wishes and opt for some pithy observation chiseled into a tastefully sized granite block, I suspect they might choose “He always knew which way the wind was blowing ... but wasn’t so sure about the tides.” Which aptly describes both my navigational deficiencies they have observed here over my six decades on the Maine coast as well as my general inability to predict the future. Nonetheless, I am going to throw caution to the wind and take this opportunity to ponder where obesity in this country will go over the next couple of decades.
In March of last year the London-based World Obesity Federation published its World Obesity Atlas. In the summary the authors predict that based on current trends “obesity will cost the global economy of US $4 trillion of potential income in 2035, nearly 3% of current global domestic product (GDP).” They envision the “rising prevalence of obesity to be steepest among children and adolescents rising from 10% to 20% of the world’s boys during the period 2029 to 2035, and rising fro 8% to 18% of the world’s girls.”
These dire predictions assume no significant measures to reverse this trajectory such as universal health coverage. Nor do the authors attempt to predict the effect of the growing use of GLP-1 agonists. This omission is surprising and somewhat refreshing given the fact that the project was funded by an unrestricted grant from Novo Nordisk, a major producer of one of these drugs.
Unfortunately, I think it is unlikely that over the next couple of decades any large countries who do not already have a functioning universal health care system will find the political will to develop one capable of reversing the trend toward obesity. Certainly, I don’t see it in the cards for this country.
On the other hand, I can foresee the availability and ease of administration for GLP-1 agonists and similar drugs improving over the near term. However, the cost and availability will continue to widen the separation between the haves and the have-nots, both globally and within each country. This will mean that the countries and population subgroups that already experience the bulk of the economic and health consequences of obesity will continue to shoulder an outsized burden of this “disease.”
It is unclear how much this widening of the fat-getting-fatter dynamic will add to the global and national political unrest that already seems to be tracking the effects of climate change. However, I can’t imaging it is going to be a calming or uniting force.
Narrowing our focus from an international to an individual resource-rich country such as the United States, let’s consider what the significant growth in availability and affordability of GLP-1 agonist drugs will mean. There will certainly be short-term improvements in the morbidity and mortality of some of the obesity related diseases. However, for other conditions it may take longer than two decades for us to notice an effect. While it is tempting to consider these declines as a financial boon for the country that already spends a high percentage of its GDP on healthcare. However, as the well-known Saturday Night Live pundit Roseanne Roseannadanna often observed, ”it’s always something ... if it’s not one thing it’s another.” There may be other non-obesity conditions that surge to fill the gap, leaving us still with a substantial financial burden for healthcare.
Patients taking GLP-1 agonists lose weight because they feel full and eat less food. While currently the number of patients taking these drugs is relatively small, the effect on this country’s food consumption is too small to calculate. However, let’s assume that 20 years from now half of the obese patients are taking appetite blunting medication. Using today’s statistics this means that 50 million adults will be eating significantly less food. Will the agriculturists have gradually adjusted to produce less food? Will this mean there is more food for the those experiencing “food insecurity”? I doubt it. Most food insecurity seems to be a problem of distribution and inequality, not supply.
Physicians now caution patients taking GLP-1 agonists to eat a healthy and balanced diet. When the drugs are more commonly available, will this caution be heeded by the majority? Will we see a population that may no longer be obese but nonetheless malnourished because of bad choices?
And, finally, in a similar vein, will previously obese individuals suddenly or gradually begin to be more physically active once the appetite blunting medicines have helped them lose weight? Here, I have my doubts. Of course, some leaner individuals begin to take advantage of their new body morphology. But, I fear that old sedentary habits will die very slowly for most, and not at all for many. We have built a vehicle-centric society in which being physically active requires making a conscious effort. Electronic devices and sedentary entertainment options are not going to disappear just because a significant percentage of the population is no longer obese.
So there you have it. I suspect that I am correct about which way some of the winds are blowing as the obesity becomes moves into its treatable “disease” phase. But, as always, I haven’t a clue which way the tide is running.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I am not planning on having a headstone on my grave, or even having a grave for that matter. However, if my heirs decide to ignore my wishes and opt for some pithy observation chiseled into a tastefully sized granite block, I suspect they might choose “He always knew which way the wind was blowing ... but wasn’t so sure about the tides.” Which aptly describes both my navigational deficiencies they have observed here over my six decades on the Maine coast as well as my general inability to predict the future. Nonetheless, I am going to throw caution to the wind and take this opportunity to ponder where obesity in this country will go over the next couple of decades.
In March of last year the London-based World Obesity Federation published its World Obesity Atlas. In the summary the authors predict that based on current trends “obesity will cost the global economy of US $4 trillion of potential income in 2035, nearly 3% of current global domestic product (GDP).” They envision the “rising prevalence of obesity to be steepest among children and adolescents rising from 10% to 20% of the world’s boys during the period 2029 to 2035, and rising fro 8% to 18% of the world’s girls.”
These dire predictions assume no significant measures to reverse this trajectory such as universal health coverage. Nor do the authors attempt to predict the effect of the growing use of GLP-1 agonists. This omission is surprising and somewhat refreshing given the fact that the project was funded by an unrestricted grant from Novo Nordisk, a major producer of one of these drugs.
Unfortunately, I think it is unlikely that over the next couple of decades any large countries who do not already have a functioning universal health care system will find the political will to develop one capable of reversing the trend toward obesity. Certainly, I don’t see it in the cards for this country.
On the other hand, I can foresee the availability and ease of administration for GLP-1 agonists and similar drugs improving over the near term. However, the cost and availability will continue to widen the separation between the haves and the have-nots, both globally and within each country. This will mean that the countries and population subgroups that already experience the bulk of the economic and health consequences of obesity will continue to shoulder an outsized burden of this “disease.”
It is unclear how much this widening of the fat-getting-fatter dynamic will add to the global and national political unrest that already seems to be tracking the effects of climate change. However, I can’t imaging it is going to be a calming or uniting force.
Narrowing our focus from an international to an individual resource-rich country such as the United States, let’s consider what the significant growth in availability and affordability of GLP-1 agonist drugs will mean. There will certainly be short-term improvements in the morbidity and mortality of some of the obesity related diseases. However, for other conditions it may take longer than two decades for us to notice an effect. While it is tempting to consider these declines as a financial boon for the country that already spends a high percentage of its GDP on healthcare. However, as the well-known Saturday Night Live pundit Roseanne Roseannadanna often observed, ”it’s always something ... if it’s not one thing it’s another.” There may be other non-obesity conditions that surge to fill the gap, leaving us still with a substantial financial burden for healthcare.
Patients taking GLP-1 agonists lose weight because they feel full and eat less food. While currently the number of patients taking these drugs is relatively small, the effect on this country’s food consumption is too small to calculate. However, let’s assume that 20 years from now half of the obese patients are taking appetite blunting medication. Using today’s statistics this means that 50 million adults will be eating significantly less food. Will the agriculturists have gradually adjusted to produce less food? Will this mean there is more food for the those experiencing “food insecurity”? I doubt it. Most food insecurity seems to be a problem of distribution and inequality, not supply.
Physicians now caution patients taking GLP-1 agonists to eat a healthy and balanced diet. When the drugs are more commonly available, will this caution be heeded by the majority? Will we see a population that may no longer be obese but nonetheless malnourished because of bad choices?
And, finally, in a similar vein, will previously obese individuals suddenly or gradually begin to be more physically active once the appetite blunting medicines have helped them lose weight? Here, I have my doubts. Of course, some leaner individuals begin to take advantage of their new body morphology. But, I fear that old sedentary habits will die very slowly for most, and not at all for many. We have built a vehicle-centric society in which being physically active requires making a conscious effort. Electronic devices and sedentary entertainment options are not going to disappear just because a significant percentage of the population is no longer obese.
So there you have it. I suspect that I am correct about which way some of the winds are blowing as the obesity becomes moves into its treatable “disease” phase. But, as always, I haven’t a clue which way the tide is running.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
PPEs — Haystacks and Needles
A story in a recent edition of this newspaper reported on a disturbing, but not surprising, study by a third-year pediatric resident at the University of California, Davis, School of Medicine. Looking at just the Preparticipaton Physical Evaluations (PPEs) she could find at her institution, Tammy Ng, MD, found that only slightly more than a quarter “addressed all the criteria” on the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) standardized form. Although more than half included inquiries about respiratory symptoms, less than half contained questions about a cardiovascular history. The lack of consistency across all the forms reviewed was the most dramatic finding.
Having participated in more than my share of PPEs as a school physician, a primary care pediatrician, and a multi-sport high school and college athlete, I was not surprised by Dr. Ng’s findings. In high school my teammates and I considered our trip to see Old Doctor Hinds (not his real name) in the second week of August “a joke.” A few of us with “white coat” hypertension, like myself, had to be settled down and have our blood pressure retaken. But other than that wrinkle, we all passed. The football coach had his own eyeball screening tool and wouldn’t allow kids he thought were too small to play football.
Reading this study rekindled a question that surfaced every sports season as I faced days of looking at forms, many of them fished out of backpacks in a crumbled mass. I squeezed in new patients or old patients who were out of date on their physicals, not wanting any youngster to miss out on the politically important first practice of the pre-season. Why was I doing it? What was my goal? In more than four hundred thousand office visit encounters, I had never knowingly missed a case that resulted in a sudden sports-related death. Where was the evidence that PPEs had any protective value? Now a third-year pediatric resident is bold enough to tell us that we have done such a sloppy job of collecting data that we aren’t anywhere close to having the raw material with which to answer my decades-old questions and concerns.
Has our needles-in-the-haystack strategy saved any lives? I suspect a few of you can describe scenarios in which asking the right question of the right person at the right time prevented a sports-related sudden death. But, looking at bigger picture, what were the downsides for the entire population with a system in which those questions weren’t asked?
How many young people didn’t play a sport because their parents couldn’t afford the doctor visit or maintain a family structure that would allow them to find the lost form and drive it to the doctor’s office on Friday afternoon. Not every athletic director or physician’s staff is flexible or sympathetic enough to deal with that level of family dysfunction.
The AAP has recently focused its attention on the problems associated with overspecialization and overtraining in an attempt to make youth sports more safe. But, in reality that target audience is a small, elite, highly motivated group. The bigger problem is the rest of the population, in which too few children are physically active and participation in organized youth sports is decreasing. There are many reasons for that trajectory, but shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to reduce the barriers preventing young people from being more active? One of those barriers is a PPE system that is so riddled with inconsistencies that we have no idea as to its utility.
Certainly, bigger and more robust studies can be done, but there will be a long lead time to determine if a better PPE system might be effective. But there is a different approach. Instead of looking for needles with retrospective questions relying on patients’ and parents’ memories, why not use AI to mine patients’ old records for any language that may be buried in the history that could raise a yellow flag. Of course not every significant episode of syncope results in a chart entry. But, if we can make EMRs do our bidding instead being a thorn in our sides, records from long-forgotten episodes at an urgent care center while on vacation should merge with patients global record and light up when AI goes hunting.
If we can get our act together, the process that my teenage buddies and I considered a joke could become an efficient and possibly life-saving exercise.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
A story in a recent edition of this newspaper reported on a disturbing, but not surprising, study by a third-year pediatric resident at the University of California, Davis, School of Medicine. Looking at just the Preparticipaton Physical Evaluations (PPEs) she could find at her institution, Tammy Ng, MD, found that only slightly more than a quarter “addressed all the criteria” on the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) standardized form. Although more than half included inquiries about respiratory symptoms, less than half contained questions about a cardiovascular history. The lack of consistency across all the forms reviewed was the most dramatic finding.
Having participated in more than my share of PPEs as a school physician, a primary care pediatrician, and a multi-sport high school and college athlete, I was not surprised by Dr. Ng’s findings. In high school my teammates and I considered our trip to see Old Doctor Hinds (not his real name) in the second week of August “a joke.” A few of us with “white coat” hypertension, like myself, had to be settled down and have our blood pressure retaken. But other than that wrinkle, we all passed. The football coach had his own eyeball screening tool and wouldn’t allow kids he thought were too small to play football.
Reading this study rekindled a question that surfaced every sports season as I faced days of looking at forms, many of them fished out of backpacks in a crumbled mass. I squeezed in new patients or old patients who were out of date on their physicals, not wanting any youngster to miss out on the politically important first practice of the pre-season. Why was I doing it? What was my goal? In more than four hundred thousand office visit encounters, I had never knowingly missed a case that resulted in a sudden sports-related death. Where was the evidence that PPEs had any protective value? Now a third-year pediatric resident is bold enough to tell us that we have done such a sloppy job of collecting data that we aren’t anywhere close to having the raw material with which to answer my decades-old questions and concerns.
Has our needles-in-the-haystack strategy saved any lives? I suspect a few of you can describe scenarios in which asking the right question of the right person at the right time prevented a sports-related sudden death. But, looking at bigger picture, what were the downsides for the entire population with a system in which those questions weren’t asked?
How many young people didn’t play a sport because their parents couldn’t afford the doctor visit or maintain a family structure that would allow them to find the lost form and drive it to the doctor’s office on Friday afternoon. Not every athletic director or physician’s staff is flexible or sympathetic enough to deal with that level of family dysfunction.
The AAP has recently focused its attention on the problems associated with overspecialization and overtraining in an attempt to make youth sports more safe. But, in reality that target audience is a small, elite, highly motivated group. The bigger problem is the rest of the population, in which too few children are physically active and participation in organized youth sports is decreasing. There are many reasons for that trajectory, but shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to reduce the barriers preventing young people from being more active? One of those barriers is a PPE system that is so riddled with inconsistencies that we have no idea as to its utility.
Certainly, bigger and more robust studies can be done, but there will be a long lead time to determine if a better PPE system might be effective. But there is a different approach. Instead of looking for needles with retrospective questions relying on patients’ and parents’ memories, why not use AI to mine patients’ old records for any language that may be buried in the history that could raise a yellow flag. Of course not every significant episode of syncope results in a chart entry. But, if we can make EMRs do our bidding instead being a thorn in our sides, records from long-forgotten episodes at an urgent care center while on vacation should merge with patients global record and light up when AI goes hunting.
If we can get our act together, the process that my teenage buddies and I considered a joke could become an efficient and possibly life-saving exercise.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
A story in a recent edition of this newspaper reported on a disturbing, but not surprising, study by a third-year pediatric resident at the University of California, Davis, School of Medicine. Looking at just the Preparticipaton Physical Evaluations (PPEs) she could find at her institution, Tammy Ng, MD, found that only slightly more than a quarter “addressed all the criteria” on the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) standardized form. Although more than half included inquiries about respiratory symptoms, less than half contained questions about a cardiovascular history. The lack of consistency across all the forms reviewed was the most dramatic finding.
Having participated in more than my share of PPEs as a school physician, a primary care pediatrician, and a multi-sport high school and college athlete, I was not surprised by Dr. Ng’s findings. In high school my teammates and I considered our trip to see Old Doctor Hinds (not his real name) in the second week of August “a joke.” A few of us with “white coat” hypertension, like myself, had to be settled down and have our blood pressure retaken. But other than that wrinkle, we all passed. The football coach had his own eyeball screening tool and wouldn’t allow kids he thought were too small to play football.
Reading this study rekindled a question that surfaced every sports season as I faced days of looking at forms, many of them fished out of backpacks in a crumbled mass. I squeezed in new patients or old patients who were out of date on their physicals, not wanting any youngster to miss out on the politically important first practice of the pre-season. Why was I doing it? What was my goal? In more than four hundred thousand office visit encounters, I had never knowingly missed a case that resulted in a sudden sports-related death. Where was the evidence that PPEs had any protective value? Now a third-year pediatric resident is bold enough to tell us that we have done such a sloppy job of collecting data that we aren’t anywhere close to having the raw material with which to answer my decades-old questions and concerns.
Has our needles-in-the-haystack strategy saved any lives? I suspect a few of you can describe scenarios in which asking the right question of the right person at the right time prevented a sports-related sudden death. But, looking at bigger picture, what were the downsides for the entire population with a system in which those questions weren’t asked?
How many young people didn’t play a sport because their parents couldn’t afford the doctor visit or maintain a family structure that would allow them to find the lost form and drive it to the doctor’s office on Friday afternoon. Not every athletic director or physician’s staff is flexible or sympathetic enough to deal with that level of family dysfunction.
The AAP has recently focused its attention on the problems associated with overspecialization and overtraining in an attempt to make youth sports more safe. But, in reality that target audience is a small, elite, highly motivated group. The bigger problem is the rest of the population, in which too few children are physically active and participation in organized youth sports is decreasing. There are many reasons for that trajectory, but shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to reduce the barriers preventing young people from being more active? One of those barriers is a PPE system that is so riddled with inconsistencies that we have no idea as to its utility.
Certainly, bigger and more robust studies can be done, but there will be a long lead time to determine if a better PPE system might be effective. But there is a different approach. Instead of looking for needles with retrospective questions relying on patients’ and parents’ memories, why not use AI to mine patients’ old records for any language that may be buried in the history that could raise a yellow flag. Of course not every significant episode of syncope results in a chart entry. But, if we can make EMRs do our bidding instead being a thorn in our sides, records from long-forgotten episodes at an urgent care center while on vacation should merge with patients global record and light up when AI goes hunting.
If we can get our act together, the process that my teenage buddies and I considered a joke could become an efficient and possibly life-saving exercise.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Chronic Absenteeism
Among the more unheralded examples of collateral damage of the COVID epidemic is chronic absenteeism. A recent NPR/Ipsos poll found that parents ranked chronic absenteeism last in a list of 12 school-related concerns. Only 5% listed it first.
This is surprising and concerning, given that In fact, in some states the chronic absenteeism rate is 40%. In 2020 8 million students were chronically absent. This number is now over 14 million. Chronic absenteeism is a metric defined as a student absent for 15 days or more, which comes out to around 10% of the school year. Chronic absenteeism has been used as a predictor of the student dropout rate.
The initial contribution of the pandemic is easily explained, as parents were understandably concerned about sending their children into an environment that might cause disease, or at least bring the disease home to a more vulnerable family member. The reasons behind the trend’s persistence are a bit more complicated.
Family schedules initially disrupted by the pandemic have settled back into a pattern that may make it more difficult for a child to get to school. Day care and work schedules may have changed, but not yet readjusted to sync with the school schedule.
In the simplest terms, children and their families may have simply fallen out of the habit of going to school. For children (and maybe their parents) who had always struggled with an unresolved separation anxiety, the time at home — or at least not in school — came as a relief. Which, in turn, meant that any gains in dealing with the anxiety have been undone. The child who was already struggling academically or socially found being at home much less challenging. It’s not surprising that he/she might resist climbing back in the academic saddle.
It is very likely that a significant contributor to the persistent trend in chronic absenteeism is what social scientists call “norm erosion.” Not just children, but families may have developed an attitude that time spent in school just isn’t as valuable as they once believed, or were at least told that it was. There seems to be more parents questioning what their children are being taught in school. The home schooling movement existed before the pandemic. Its roots may be growing under the surface in the form of general skepticism about the importance of school in the bigger scheme of things. The home schooling movement was ready to blossom when the COVID pandemic triggered school closures. We hoped and dreamed that remote learning would be just as good as in-person school. We now realize that, in most cases, that was wishful thinking.
It feels as though a “Perfect Attendance Record” may have lost the cachet it once had. During the pandemic anyone claiming to have never missed a day at school lost that gold star. Did opening your computer every day to watch a remote learning session count for anything?
The threshold for allowing a child to stay home from school may be reaching a historic low. Families seem to regard the school schedule as a guideline that can easily be ignored when planning a vacation. Take little brother out of school to attend big brother’s lacrosse playoff game, not to worry if the youngster misses school days for a trip.
Who is responsible for reversing the trend? Teachers already know it is a serious problem. They view attendance as important. Maybe educators could make school more appealing. But to whom? Sounds like this message should be targeted at the parents. Would stiff penalties for parents whose children are chronically absent help? Would demanding a note from a physician after a certain number of absences help? It might. But, are pediatricians and educators ready to take on one more task in which parents have dropped the ball?
An unknown percentage of chronically absent children are missing school because of a previously unrecognized or inadequately treated mental health condition or learning disability. Involving physicians in a community’s response to chronic absenteeism may be the first step in getting a child back on track. If socioeconomic factors are contributing to a child’s truancy, the involvement of social service agencies may be the answer.
I have a friend who is often asked to address graduating classes at both the high school and college level. One of his standard pieces of advice, whether it be about school or a workplace you may not be in love with, is to at least “show up.” The family that treats school attendance as optional is likely to produce adults who take a similarly nonchalant attitude toward their employment opportunities — with unfortunate results.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Among the more unheralded examples of collateral damage of the COVID epidemic is chronic absenteeism. A recent NPR/Ipsos poll found that parents ranked chronic absenteeism last in a list of 12 school-related concerns. Only 5% listed it first.
This is surprising and concerning, given that In fact, in some states the chronic absenteeism rate is 40%. In 2020 8 million students were chronically absent. This number is now over 14 million. Chronic absenteeism is a metric defined as a student absent for 15 days or more, which comes out to around 10% of the school year. Chronic absenteeism has been used as a predictor of the student dropout rate.
The initial contribution of the pandemic is easily explained, as parents were understandably concerned about sending their children into an environment that might cause disease, or at least bring the disease home to a more vulnerable family member. The reasons behind the trend’s persistence are a bit more complicated.
Family schedules initially disrupted by the pandemic have settled back into a pattern that may make it more difficult for a child to get to school. Day care and work schedules may have changed, but not yet readjusted to sync with the school schedule.
In the simplest terms, children and their families may have simply fallen out of the habit of going to school. For children (and maybe their parents) who had always struggled with an unresolved separation anxiety, the time at home — or at least not in school — came as a relief. Which, in turn, meant that any gains in dealing with the anxiety have been undone. The child who was already struggling academically or socially found being at home much less challenging. It’s not surprising that he/she might resist climbing back in the academic saddle.
It is very likely that a significant contributor to the persistent trend in chronic absenteeism is what social scientists call “norm erosion.” Not just children, but families may have developed an attitude that time spent in school just isn’t as valuable as they once believed, or were at least told that it was. There seems to be more parents questioning what their children are being taught in school. The home schooling movement existed before the pandemic. Its roots may be growing under the surface in the form of general skepticism about the importance of school in the bigger scheme of things. The home schooling movement was ready to blossom when the COVID pandemic triggered school closures. We hoped and dreamed that remote learning would be just as good as in-person school. We now realize that, in most cases, that was wishful thinking.
It feels as though a “Perfect Attendance Record” may have lost the cachet it once had. During the pandemic anyone claiming to have never missed a day at school lost that gold star. Did opening your computer every day to watch a remote learning session count for anything?
The threshold for allowing a child to stay home from school may be reaching a historic low. Families seem to regard the school schedule as a guideline that can easily be ignored when planning a vacation. Take little brother out of school to attend big brother’s lacrosse playoff game, not to worry if the youngster misses school days for a trip.
Who is responsible for reversing the trend? Teachers already know it is a serious problem. They view attendance as important. Maybe educators could make school more appealing. But to whom? Sounds like this message should be targeted at the parents. Would stiff penalties for parents whose children are chronically absent help? Would demanding a note from a physician after a certain number of absences help? It might. But, are pediatricians and educators ready to take on one more task in which parents have dropped the ball?
An unknown percentage of chronically absent children are missing school because of a previously unrecognized or inadequately treated mental health condition or learning disability. Involving physicians in a community’s response to chronic absenteeism may be the first step in getting a child back on track. If socioeconomic factors are contributing to a child’s truancy, the involvement of social service agencies may be the answer.
I have a friend who is often asked to address graduating classes at both the high school and college level. One of his standard pieces of advice, whether it be about school or a workplace you may not be in love with, is to at least “show up.” The family that treats school attendance as optional is likely to produce adults who take a similarly nonchalant attitude toward their employment opportunities — with unfortunate results.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Among the more unheralded examples of collateral damage of the COVID epidemic is chronic absenteeism. A recent NPR/Ipsos poll found that parents ranked chronic absenteeism last in a list of 12 school-related concerns. Only 5% listed it first.
This is surprising and concerning, given that In fact, in some states the chronic absenteeism rate is 40%. In 2020 8 million students were chronically absent. This number is now over 14 million. Chronic absenteeism is a metric defined as a student absent for 15 days or more, which comes out to around 10% of the school year. Chronic absenteeism has been used as a predictor of the student dropout rate.
The initial contribution of the pandemic is easily explained, as parents were understandably concerned about sending their children into an environment that might cause disease, or at least bring the disease home to a more vulnerable family member. The reasons behind the trend’s persistence are a bit more complicated.
Family schedules initially disrupted by the pandemic have settled back into a pattern that may make it more difficult for a child to get to school. Day care and work schedules may have changed, but not yet readjusted to sync with the school schedule.
In the simplest terms, children and their families may have simply fallen out of the habit of going to school. For children (and maybe their parents) who had always struggled with an unresolved separation anxiety, the time at home — or at least not in school — came as a relief. Which, in turn, meant that any gains in dealing with the anxiety have been undone. The child who was already struggling academically or socially found being at home much less challenging. It’s not surprising that he/she might resist climbing back in the academic saddle.
It is very likely that a significant contributor to the persistent trend in chronic absenteeism is what social scientists call “norm erosion.” Not just children, but families may have developed an attitude that time spent in school just isn’t as valuable as they once believed, or were at least told that it was. There seems to be more parents questioning what their children are being taught in school. The home schooling movement existed before the pandemic. Its roots may be growing under the surface in the form of general skepticism about the importance of school in the bigger scheme of things. The home schooling movement was ready to blossom when the COVID pandemic triggered school closures. We hoped and dreamed that remote learning would be just as good as in-person school. We now realize that, in most cases, that was wishful thinking.
It feels as though a “Perfect Attendance Record” may have lost the cachet it once had. During the pandemic anyone claiming to have never missed a day at school lost that gold star. Did opening your computer every day to watch a remote learning session count for anything?
The threshold for allowing a child to stay home from school may be reaching a historic low. Families seem to regard the school schedule as a guideline that can easily be ignored when planning a vacation. Take little brother out of school to attend big brother’s lacrosse playoff game, not to worry if the youngster misses school days for a trip.
Who is responsible for reversing the trend? Teachers already know it is a serious problem. They view attendance as important. Maybe educators could make school more appealing. But to whom? Sounds like this message should be targeted at the parents. Would stiff penalties for parents whose children are chronically absent help? Would demanding a note from a physician after a certain number of absences help? It might. But, are pediatricians and educators ready to take on one more task in which parents have dropped the ball?
An unknown percentage of chronically absent children are missing school because of a previously unrecognized or inadequately treated mental health condition or learning disability. Involving physicians in a community’s response to chronic absenteeism may be the first step in getting a child back on track. If socioeconomic factors are contributing to a child’s truancy, the involvement of social service agencies may be the answer.
I have a friend who is often asked to address graduating classes at both the high school and college level. One of his standard pieces of advice, whether it be about school or a workplace you may not be in love with, is to at least “show up.” The family that treats school attendance as optional is likely to produce adults who take a similarly nonchalant attitude toward their employment opportunities — with unfortunate results.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
The Smartphone Problem
I am going to guess that if we asked 500,000 adults in this country if they felt that children and adolescents were spending too much time on their smartphones, we would elicit almost uniform agreement that, yes indeed, smartphone use is gobbling up too much time from our young people. And, the adults would volunteer a long laundry list of all the bad consequences this overuse was generating. If you ask this same sample of adults if they too were spending too much time on their smartphones they would answer yes and, again, give you a list of the problems they feel are the result of this overuse.
We might begin to find a scattering of responses if we ask the adults when a child is too young to have his/her own cell phone. But, they would all agree that “young children” weren’t ready to be trusted with a cell phone. The “when” they were ready would be up for discussion. However, I suspect we might see a clustering around age 10 years. The reality is that despite what the majority may believe, a 2022 survey found that 42% of children have a cell phone by age 10, 71% by age 12, and 91% by age 14.
So, it would appear that, while we believe there can be significant downsides to having a cell phone, we are having great difficulty in policing ourselves and creating limits for our children. Does cell phone use qualify as an addiction, or is it just another example of how adults have lost the ability to say “no” to themselves and to their children?
When it comes to cell phones in school, the situation gets increasingly murky. The teachers I speak with are very clear that cell phones are creating problems for both the academic and the social experiences of their students. One teacher referred me to an article from the Norwegian Institute of Public Health, which found that banning cell phones in school decreased the incidence of psychological symptoms and diseases in girls. Bullying decreased in both genders and the girls’ GPA scores improved. In schools with cell phone bans, girls were more likely to choose and attend academic track programs, an effect which was more pronounced in young women with lower socioeconomic backgrounds. But, the if, when, and how to institute smartphone bans in school is complicated.
On one front, the movement toward cell phone bans in school has been given a major boost with the publication and publicity of a new book titled The Anxious Generation by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, PhD. The New York University professor sees the GenZ’ers as experiencing a tsunami of mental health challenges including anxiety, self-harm, and suicide. And, he lays much of the blame for this situation on cell phone use.
He is optimistic about turning the tide because he claims that everywhere he speaks about the problem he says “I feel that I’m pushing on open doors.” Comparing the phenomenon to the collapse of the Berlin Wall, Dr. Haidt says “When you have a system that everyone hates, and then you have a way to escape it, it can change in a year.”
I wish I could share in his optimism, although I did just encounter a news story in the Portland paper describing a national program called “Wait Until 8th,” which is being considered by a parents’ group here in Maine.
The usual suspects have their own predictable take on the issue. The House and Senate have proposed a study on the use of cell phones in elementary and secondary schools and a pilot program awarding grants to some schools to create mobile device–free environments. Sounds like a momentum killer to me.
Not surprisingly, the issue of cell phone bans in school has taken on a bit of a political odor. The National Parents Union reports in a very small and inadequately described sample that 56% of parents are against total school bans. In the accompanying press release, the organizations offers an extensive list of concerns parents have reported — many cite the need to remain in contact with their children throughout the day. One has to wonder how often these concerns are a reflection of unresolved separation anxiety.
The American Academy of Pediatrics has rolled out a “5 Cs” framework that pediatricians can use to discuss media use with families. As usual, the thought is that talking about a problem is going to somehow convince parents to do what they already know is the correct action. And, of course, pediatricians have plenty of time to initiate this discussion of the obvious.
A recent study from the Department of Pediatrics at University of California, San Francisco, has found that parental monitoring, limit setting, and modeling good screen use behavior (my bolding) are the most effective strategies for reducing adolescent screen time. Using screen time allowances as a reward or punishment does not seem to be effective.
So there you have it. It looks like However, despite Dr. Haidt’s optimism about a seismic turnaround, I suspect it will more likely be guerrilla warfare — one family, one school, or one school district at a 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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I am going to guess that if we asked 500,000 adults in this country if they felt that children and adolescents were spending too much time on their smartphones, we would elicit almost uniform agreement that, yes indeed, smartphone use is gobbling up too much time from our young people. And, the adults would volunteer a long laundry list of all the bad consequences this overuse was generating. If you ask this same sample of adults if they too were spending too much time on their smartphones they would answer yes and, again, give you a list of the problems they feel are the result of this overuse.
We might begin to find a scattering of responses if we ask the adults when a child is too young to have his/her own cell phone. But, they would all agree that “young children” weren’t ready to be trusted with a cell phone. The “when” they were ready would be up for discussion. However, I suspect we might see a clustering around age 10 years. The reality is that despite what the majority may believe, a 2022 survey found that 42% of children have a cell phone by age 10, 71% by age 12, and 91% by age 14.
So, it would appear that, while we believe there can be significant downsides to having a cell phone, we are having great difficulty in policing ourselves and creating limits for our children. Does cell phone use qualify as an addiction, or is it just another example of how adults have lost the ability to say “no” to themselves and to their children?
When it comes to cell phones in school, the situation gets increasingly murky. The teachers I speak with are very clear that cell phones are creating problems for both the academic and the social experiences of their students. One teacher referred me to an article from the Norwegian Institute of Public Health, which found that banning cell phones in school decreased the incidence of psychological symptoms and diseases in girls. Bullying decreased in both genders and the girls’ GPA scores improved. In schools with cell phone bans, girls were more likely to choose and attend academic track programs, an effect which was more pronounced in young women with lower socioeconomic backgrounds. But, the if, when, and how to institute smartphone bans in school is complicated.
On one front, the movement toward cell phone bans in school has been given a major boost with the publication and publicity of a new book titled The Anxious Generation by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, PhD. The New York University professor sees the GenZ’ers as experiencing a tsunami of mental health challenges including anxiety, self-harm, and suicide. And, he lays much of the blame for this situation on cell phone use.
He is optimistic about turning the tide because he claims that everywhere he speaks about the problem he says “I feel that I’m pushing on open doors.” Comparing the phenomenon to the collapse of the Berlin Wall, Dr. Haidt says “When you have a system that everyone hates, and then you have a way to escape it, it can change in a year.”
I wish I could share in his optimism, although I did just encounter a news story in the Portland paper describing a national program called “Wait Until 8th,” which is being considered by a parents’ group here in Maine.
The usual suspects have their own predictable take on the issue. The House and Senate have proposed a study on the use of cell phones in elementary and secondary schools and a pilot program awarding grants to some schools to create mobile device–free environments. Sounds like a momentum killer to me.
Not surprisingly, the issue of cell phone bans in school has taken on a bit of a political odor. The National Parents Union reports in a very small and inadequately described sample that 56% of parents are against total school bans. In the accompanying press release, the organizations offers an extensive list of concerns parents have reported — many cite the need to remain in contact with their children throughout the day. One has to wonder how often these concerns are a reflection of unresolved separation anxiety.
The American Academy of Pediatrics has rolled out a “5 Cs” framework that pediatricians can use to discuss media use with families. As usual, the thought is that talking about a problem is going to somehow convince parents to do what they already know is the correct action. And, of course, pediatricians have plenty of time to initiate this discussion of the obvious.
A recent study from the Department of Pediatrics at University of California, San Francisco, has found that parental monitoring, limit setting, and modeling good screen use behavior (my bolding) are the most effective strategies for reducing adolescent screen time. Using screen time allowances as a reward or punishment does not seem to be effective.
So there you have it. It looks like However, despite Dr. Haidt’s optimism about a seismic turnaround, I suspect it will more likely be guerrilla warfare — one family, one school, or one school district at a 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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I am going to guess that if we asked 500,000 adults in this country if they felt that children and adolescents were spending too much time on their smartphones, we would elicit almost uniform agreement that, yes indeed, smartphone use is gobbling up too much time from our young people. And, the adults would volunteer a long laundry list of all the bad consequences this overuse was generating. If you ask this same sample of adults if they too were spending too much time on their smartphones they would answer yes and, again, give you a list of the problems they feel are the result of this overuse.
We might begin to find a scattering of responses if we ask the adults when a child is too young to have his/her own cell phone. But, they would all agree that “young children” weren’t ready to be trusted with a cell phone. The “when” they were ready would be up for discussion. However, I suspect we might see a clustering around age 10 years. The reality is that despite what the majority may believe, a 2022 survey found that 42% of children have a cell phone by age 10, 71% by age 12, and 91% by age 14.
So, it would appear that, while we believe there can be significant downsides to having a cell phone, we are having great difficulty in policing ourselves and creating limits for our children. Does cell phone use qualify as an addiction, or is it just another example of how adults have lost the ability to say “no” to themselves and to their children?
When it comes to cell phones in school, the situation gets increasingly murky. The teachers I speak with are very clear that cell phones are creating problems for both the academic and the social experiences of their students. One teacher referred me to an article from the Norwegian Institute of Public Health, which found that banning cell phones in school decreased the incidence of psychological symptoms and diseases in girls. Bullying decreased in both genders and the girls’ GPA scores improved. In schools with cell phone bans, girls were more likely to choose and attend academic track programs, an effect which was more pronounced in young women with lower socioeconomic backgrounds. But, the if, when, and how to institute smartphone bans in school is complicated.
On one front, the movement toward cell phone bans in school has been given a major boost with the publication and publicity of a new book titled The Anxious Generation by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt, PhD. The New York University professor sees the GenZ’ers as experiencing a tsunami of mental health challenges including anxiety, self-harm, and suicide. And, he lays much of the blame for this situation on cell phone use.
He is optimistic about turning the tide because he claims that everywhere he speaks about the problem he says “I feel that I’m pushing on open doors.” Comparing the phenomenon to the collapse of the Berlin Wall, Dr. Haidt says “When you have a system that everyone hates, and then you have a way to escape it, it can change in a year.”
I wish I could share in his optimism, although I did just encounter a news story in the Portland paper describing a national program called “Wait Until 8th,” which is being considered by a parents’ group here in Maine.
The usual suspects have their own predictable take on the issue. The House and Senate have proposed a study on the use of cell phones in elementary and secondary schools and a pilot program awarding grants to some schools to create mobile device–free environments. Sounds like a momentum killer to me.
Not surprisingly, the issue of cell phone bans in school has taken on a bit of a political odor. The National Parents Union reports in a very small and inadequately described sample that 56% of parents are against total school bans. In the accompanying press release, the organizations offers an extensive list of concerns parents have reported — many cite the need to remain in contact with their children throughout the day. One has to wonder how often these concerns are a reflection of unresolved separation anxiety.
The American Academy of Pediatrics has rolled out a “5 Cs” framework that pediatricians can use to discuss media use with families. As usual, the thought is that talking about a problem is going to somehow convince parents to do what they already know is the correct action. And, of course, pediatricians have plenty of time to initiate this discussion of the obvious.
A recent study from the Department of Pediatrics at University of California, San Francisco, has found that parental monitoring, limit setting, and modeling good screen use behavior (my bolding) are the most effective strategies for reducing adolescent screen time. Using screen time allowances as a reward or punishment does not seem to be effective.
So there you have it. It looks like However, despite Dr. Haidt’s optimism about a seismic turnaround, I suspect it will more likely be guerrilla warfare — one family, one school, or one school district at a 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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
The Value of Early Education
Early education is right up there with motherhood and apple pie as unarguable positive concepts. How could exposing young children to a school-like atmosphere not be a benefit, particularly in communities dominated by socioeconomic challenges? While there are some questions about the value of playing Mozart to infants, early education in the traditional sense continues to be viewed as a key strategy for providing young children a preschool foundation on which a successful academic career can be built. Several oft-cited randomized controlled trials have fueled both private and public interest and funding.
However, a recent commentary published in Science suggests that all programs are “not unequivocally positive and much more research is needed.” “Worrisome results in Tennessee,” “Success in Boston,” and “Largely null results for Headstart” are just a few of the article’s section titles and convey a sense of the inconsistency the investigators found as they reviewed early education systems around the country.
While there may be some politicians who may attempt to use the results of this investigation as a reason to cancel public funding of underperforming early education programs, the authors avoid this baby-and-the-bathwater conclusion. Instead, they urge more rigorous research “to understand how effective programs can be designed and implemented.”
The kind of re-thinking and brainstorming these investigators suggest takes time. While we’re waiting for this process to gain traction, this might be a good time to consider some of the benefits of early education that we don’t usually consider when our focus is on academic metrics.
A recent paper in Children’s Health Care by investigators at the Boston University Medical Center and School of Medicine considered the diet of children attending preschool. Looking at the dietary records of more than 300 children attending 30 childcare centers, the researchers found that the children’s diets before arrival at daycare was less healthy than while they were in daycare. “The hour after pickup appeared to be the least healthful” of any of the time periods surveyed. Of course, we will all conjure up images of what this chaotic post-daycare pickup may look like and cut the harried parents and grandparents some slack when it comes to nutritional choices. However, the bottom line is that for the group of children surveyed being in preschool or daycare protected them from a less healthy diet they were being provided outside of school hours.
Our recent experience with pandemic-related school closures provides more evidence that being in school was superior to any remote experience academically. School-age children and adolescents gained weight when school closures were the norm. Play patterns for children shifted from outdoor play to indoor play — often dominated by more sedentary video games. Both fatal and non-fatal gun-related injuries surged during the pandemic and, by far, the majority of these occur in the home and not at school.
Stepping back to look at this broader picture that includes diet, physical activity, and safety — not to mention the benefits of socialization — leads one to arrive at the unfortunate conclusion that Of course there will be those who point to the belief that schools are petri dishes putting children at greater risk for respiratory infections. On the other hand, we must accept that schools haven’t proved to be a major factor in the spread of COVID that many had feared.
The authors of the study in Science are certainly correct in recommending a more thorough investigation into the academic benefits of preschool education. However, we must keep in mind that preschool offers an environment that can be a positive influence on young children.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Early education is right up there with motherhood and apple pie as unarguable positive concepts. How could exposing young children to a school-like atmosphere not be a benefit, particularly in communities dominated by socioeconomic challenges? While there are some questions about the value of playing Mozart to infants, early education in the traditional sense continues to be viewed as a key strategy for providing young children a preschool foundation on which a successful academic career can be built. Several oft-cited randomized controlled trials have fueled both private and public interest and funding.
However, a recent commentary published in Science suggests that all programs are “not unequivocally positive and much more research is needed.” “Worrisome results in Tennessee,” “Success in Boston,” and “Largely null results for Headstart” are just a few of the article’s section titles and convey a sense of the inconsistency the investigators found as they reviewed early education systems around the country.
While there may be some politicians who may attempt to use the results of this investigation as a reason to cancel public funding of underperforming early education programs, the authors avoid this baby-and-the-bathwater conclusion. Instead, they urge more rigorous research “to understand how effective programs can be designed and implemented.”
The kind of re-thinking and brainstorming these investigators suggest takes time. While we’re waiting for this process to gain traction, this might be a good time to consider some of the benefits of early education that we don’t usually consider when our focus is on academic metrics.
A recent paper in Children’s Health Care by investigators at the Boston University Medical Center and School of Medicine considered the diet of children attending preschool. Looking at the dietary records of more than 300 children attending 30 childcare centers, the researchers found that the children’s diets before arrival at daycare was less healthy than while they were in daycare. “The hour after pickup appeared to be the least healthful” of any of the time periods surveyed. Of course, we will all conjure up images of what this chaotic post-daycare pickup may look like and cut the harried parents and grandparents some slack when it comes to nutritional choices. However, the bottom line is that for the group of children surveyed being in preschool or daycare protected them from a less healthy diet they were being provided outside of school hours.
Our recent experience with pandemic-related school closures provides more evidence that being in school was superior to any remote experience academically. School-age children and adolescents gained weight when school closures were the norm. Play patterns for children shifted from outdoor play to indoor play — often dominated by more sedentary video games. Both fatal and non-fatal gun-related injuries surged during the pandemic and, by far, the majority of these occur in the home and not at school.
Stepping back to look at this broader picture that includes diet, physical activity, and safety — not to mention the benefits of socialization — leads one to arrive at the unfortunate conclusion that Of course there will be those who point to the belief that schools are petri dishes putting children at greater risk for respiratory infections. On the other hand, we must accept that schools haven’t proved to be a major factor in the spread of COVID that many had feared.
The authors of the study in Science are certainly correct in recommending a more thorough investigation into the academic benefits of preschool education. However, we must keep in mind that preschool offers an environment that can be a positive influence on young children.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Early education is right up there with motherhood and apple pie as unarguable positive concepts. How could exposing young children to a school-like atmosphere not be a benefit, particularly in communities dominated by socioeconomic challenges? While there are some questions about the value of playing Mozart to infants, early education in the traditional sense continues to be viewed as a key strategy for providing young children a preschool foundation on which a successful academic career can be built. Several oft-cited randomized controlled trials have fueled both private and public interest and funding.
However, a recent commentary published in Science suggests that all programs are “not unequivocally positive and much more research is needed.” “Worrisome results in Tennessee,” “Success in Boston,” and “Largely null results for Headstart” are just a few of the article’s section titles and convey a sense of the inconsistency the investigators found as they reviewed early education systems around the country.
While there may be some politicians who may attempt to use the results of this investigation as a reason to cancel public funding of underperforming early education programs, the authors avoid this baby-and-the-bathwater conclusion. Instead, they urge more rigorous research “to understand how effective programs can be designed and implemented.”
The kind of re-thinking and brainstorming these investigators suggest takes time. While we’re waiting for this process to gain traction, this might be a good time to consider some of the benefits of early education that we don’t usually consider when our focus is on academic metrics.
A recent paper in Children’s Health Care by investigators at the Boston University Medical Center and School of Medicine considered the diet of children attending preschool. Looking at the dietary records of more than 300 children attending 30 childcare centers, the researchers found that the children’s diets before arrival at daycare was less healthy than while they were in daycare. “The hour after pickup appeared to be the least healthful” of any of the time periods surveyed. Of course, we will all conjure up images of what this chaotic post-daycare pickup may look like and cut the harried parents and grandparents some slack when it comes to nutritional choices. However, the bottom line is that for the group of children surveyed being in preschool or daycare protected them from a less healthy diet they were being provided outside of school hours.
Our recent experience with pandemic-related school closures provides more evidence that being in school was superior to any remote experience academically. School-age children and adolescents gained weight when school closures were the norm. Play patterns for children shifted from outdoor play to indoor play — often dominated by more sedentary video games. Both fatal and non-fatal gun-related injuries surged during the pandemic and, by far, the majority of these occur in the home and not at school.
Stepping back to look at this broader picture that includes diet, physical activity, and safety — not to mention the benefits of socialization — leads one to arrive at the unfortunate conclusion that Of course there will be those who point to the belief that schools are petri dishes putting children at greater risk for respiratory infections. On the other hand, we must accept that schools haven’t proved to be a major factor in the spread of COVID that many had feared.
The authors of the study in Science are certainly correct in recommending a more thorough investigation into the academic benefits of preschool education. However, we must keep in mind that preschool offers an environment that can be a positive influence on young children.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action
No matter where one looks for the statistics, no matter what words one chooses to describe it, this country has a child and adolescent mental health crisis. Almost 20% of young people in the 3-17 age bracket have a mental, emotional, developmental, or behavioral disorder. COVID-19 has certainly exacerbated the problem, but the downward trend in the mental health of this nation has been going on for decades.
The voices calling for more services to address the problem are getting more numerous and louder. But, what exactly should those services look like and who should be delivering them?
When considered together, two recent research papers suggest that we should be venturing well beyond the usual mental health strategies if we are going to be successful in addressing the current crisis.
The first paper is an analysis by two psychologists who contend that our efforts to raise the awareness of mental issues may be contributing to the increase in reported mental health problems. The authors agree that more attention paid to mental health conditions can result in “more accurate reporting of previous under-recognized symptoms” and would seem to be a positive. However, the investigators also observe that when exposed to this flood of information, some individuals who are only experiencing minor distress may report their symptoms as mental problems. The authors of the paper have coined the term for this phenomenon as “prevalence inflation.” Their preliminary investigation suggests it may be much more common than once believed and they present numerous situations in which prevalence inflation seems to have occurred.
A New York Times article about this hypothesis reports on a British study in which nearly 30,000 teenagers were instructed by their teachers to “direct their attentions to the present moment” and utilize other mindfulness strategies. The educators had hoped that after 8 years of this indoctrination, the students’ mental health would have improved. The bottom line was that this mindfulness-based program was of no help and may have actually made things worse for a subgroup of students who were at greatest risk for mental health challenges.
Dr. Jack Andrews, one of the authors, feels that mindfulness training may encourage what he calls “co-rumination,” which he describes as “the kind of long, unresolved group discussion that churns up problems without finding solutions.” One has to wonder if “prevalence inflation” and “co-rumination,” if they do exist, may be playing a role in the hotly debated phenomenon some have termed “late-onset gender dysphoria.”
Never having been a fan of mindfulness training as an effective strategy, I am relieved to learn that serious investigators are finding evidence that supports my gut reaction.
If raising awareness, “education,” and group discussion aren’t working, and in some cases are actually contributing to the crisis, or at least making the data difficult to interpret, what should we be doing to turn this foundering ship around?
A second paper, coming from Taiwan, may provide an answer. Huey-Ling Chiang and fellow investigators have reported on a study of nearly two million children and adolescents in which they found improved performance in a variety of physical fitness challenges “was linked with a lower risk of mental health disorder.” The dose-dependent effect resulted in less anxiety and depressive disorders as well as less attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder when cardio-respiratory, muscle endurance, and power indices improved.
There have been other observers who have suggested a link between physical fitness and improved mental health, but this Taiwanese study is by far one of the largest. And, the discovery of a dose-dependent effect makes it particularly convincing.
As I reviewed these two papers, I became increasingly frustrated because this is another example in which one of the answers is staring us in the face and we continue to do nothing more than talk about it.
We already know that physically active people are healthier both physically and mentally, but we do little more than talk. It may be helpful for some people to become a bit more self-aware. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that you can’t talk yourself into being mentally healthy without a concurrent effort to actually do the things that can improve your overall health, such as being physically active and adopting healthy sleep habits. A political advisor once said, “It’s the economy, stupid.” As a community interested in the health of our children and the adults they will become, we need to remind ourselves again, “It’s the old Mind-Body Thing, Stupid.” Our children need a little less talk and a lot more action.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
No matter where one looks for the statistics, no matter what words one chooses to describe it, this country has a child and adolescent mental health crisis. Almost 20% of young people in the 3-17 age bracket have a mental, emotional, developmental, or behavioral disorder. COVID-19 has certainly exacerbated the problem, but the downward trend in the mental health of this nation has been going on for decades.
The voices calling for more services to address the problem are getting more numerous and louder. But, what exactly should those services look like and who should be delivering them?
When considered together, two recent research papers suggest that we should be venturing well beyond the usual mental health strategies if we are going to be successful in addressing the current crisis.
The first paper is an analysis by two psychologists who contend that our efforts to raise the awareness of mental issues may be contributing to the increase in reported mental health problems. The authors agree that more attention paid to mental health conditions can result in “more accurate reporting of previous under-recognized symptoms” and would seem to be a positive. However, the investigators also observe that when exposed to this flood of information, some individuals who are only experiencing minor distress may report their symptoms as mental problems. The authors of the paper have coined the term for this phenomenon as “prevalence inflation.” Their preliminary investigation suggests it may be much more common than once believed and they present numerous situations in which prevalence inflation seems to have occurred.
A New York Times article about this hypothesis reports on a British study in which nearly 30,000 teenagers were instructed by their teachers to “direct their attentions to the present moment” and utilize other mindfulness strategies. The educators had hoped that after 8 years of this indoctrination, the students’ mental health would have improved. The bottom line was that this mindfulness-based program was of no help and may have actually made things worse for a subgroup of students who were at greatest risk for mental health challenges.
Dr. Jack Andrews, one of the authors, feels that mindfulness training may encourage what he calls “co-rumination,” which he describes as “the kind of long, unresolved group discussion that churns up problems without finding solutions.” One has to wonder if “prevalence inflation” and “co-rumination,” if they do exist, may be playing a role in the hotly debated phenomenon some have termed “late-onset gender dysphoria.”
Never having been a fan of mindfulness training as an effective strategy, I am relieved to learn that serious investigators are finding evidence that supports my gut reaction.
If raising awareness, “education,” and group discussion aren’t working, and in some cases are actually contributing to the crisis, or at least making the data difficult to interpret, what should we be doing to turn this foundering ship around?
A second paper, coming from Taiwan, may provide an answer. Huey-Ling Chiang and fellow investigators have reported on a study of nearly two million children and adolescents in which they found improved performance in a variety of physical fitness challenges “was linked with a lower risk of mental health disorder.” The dose-dependent effect resulted in less anxiety and depressive disorders as well as less attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder when cardio-respiratory, muscle endurance, and power indices improved.
There have been other observers who have suggested a link between physical fitness and improved mental health, but this Taiwanese study is by far one of the largest. And, the discovery of a dose-dependent effect makes it particularly convincing.
As I reviewed these two papers, I became increasingly frustrated because this is another example in which one of the answers is staring us in the face and we continue to do nothing more than talk about it.
We already know that physically active people are healthier both physically and mentally, but we do little more than talk. It may be helpful for some people to become a bit more self-aware. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that you can’t talk yourself into being mentally healthy without a concurrent effort to actually do the things that can improve your overall health, such as being physically active and adopting healthy sleep habits. A political advisor once said, “It’s the economy, stupid.” As a community interested in the health of our children and the adults they will become, we need to remind ourselves again, “It’s the old Mind-Body Thing, Stupid.” Our children need a little less talk and a lot more action.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
No matter where one looks for the statistics, no matter what words one chooses to describe it, this country has a child and adolescent mental health crisis. Almost 20% of young people in the 3-17 age bracket have a mental, emotional, developmental, or behavioral disorder. COVID-19 has certainly exacerbated the problem, but the downward trend in the mental health of this nation has been going on for decades.
The voices calling for more services to address the problem are getting more numerous and louder. But, what exactly should those services look like and who should be delivering them?
When considered together, two recent research papers suggest that we should be venturing well beyond the usual mental health strategies if we are going to be successful in addressing the current crisis.
The first paper is an analysis by two psychologists who contend that our efforts to raise the awareness of mental issues may be contributing to the increase in reported mental health problems. The authors agree that more attention paid to mental health conditions can result in “more accurate reporting of previous under-recognized symptoms” and would seem to be a positive. However, the investigators also observe that when exposed to this flood of information, some individuals who are only experiencing minor distress may report their symptoms as mental problems. The authors of the paper have coined the term for this phenomenon as “prevalence inflation.” Their preliminary investigation suggests it may be much more common than once believed and they present numerous situations in which prevalence inflation seems to have occurred.
A New York Times article about this hypothesis reports on a British study in which nearly 30,000 teenagers were instructed by their teachers to “direct their attentions to the present moment” and utilize other mindfulness strategies. The educators had hoped that after 8 years of this indoctrination, the students’ mental health would have improved. The bottom line was that this mindfulness-based program was of no help and may have actually made things worse for a subgroup of students who were at greatest risk for mental health challenges.
Dr. Jack Andrews, one of the authors, feels that mindfulness training may encourage what he calls “co-rumination,” which he describes as “the kind of long, unresolved group discussion that churns up problems without finding solutions.” One has to wonder if “prevalence inflation” and “co-rumination,” if they do exist, may be playing a role in the hotly debated phenomenon some have termed “late-onset gender dysphoria.”
Never having been a fan of mindfulness training as an effective strategy, I am relieved to learn that serious investigators are finding evidence that supports my gut reaction.
If raising awareness, “education,” and group discussion aren’t working, and in some cases are actually contributing to the crisis, or at least making the data difficult to interpret, what should we be doing to turn this foundering ship around?
A second paper, coming from Taiwan, may provide an answer. Huey-Ling Chiang and fellow investigators have reported on a study of nearly two million children and adolescents in which they found improved performance in a variety of physical fitness challenges “was linked with a lower risk of mental health disorder.” The dose-dependent effect resulted in less anxiety and depressive disorders as well as less attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder when cardio-respiratory, muscle endurance, and power indices improved.
There have been other observers who have suggested a link between physical fitness and improved mental health, but this Taiwanese study is by far one of the largest. And, the discovery of a dose-dependent effect makes it particularly convincing.
As I reviewed these two papers, I became increasingly frustrated because this is another example in which one of the answers is staring us in the face and we continue to do nothing more than talk about it.
We already know that physically active people are healthier both physically and mentally, but we do little more than talk. It may be helpful for some people to become a bit more self-aware. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that you can’t talk yourself into being mentally healthy without a concurrent effort to actually do the things that can improve your overall health, such as being physically active and adopting healthy sleep habits. A political advisor once said, “It’s the economy, stupid.” As a community interested in the health of our children and the adults they will become, we need to remind ourselves again, “It’s the old Mind-Body Thing, Stupid.” Our children need a little less talk and a lot more action.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
PCP Compensation, Part 4
I have already shared with you that healthcare systems value panel size and productivity when they are considering primary care physician compensation. Your employers also know that the market won’t bear a substantial price increase for the procedure-poor practice style typical of primary care. You know that the relative value unit (RVU) system for calculating complexity of service is time consuming and discourages the inclusion of customer-friendly short visits that could allow an efficient provider to see more patients. Unfortunately, there is little hope that RVUs will become more PCP-friendly in the near future.
However, before leaving the topic of value and moving on to a consideration of quality, I can’t resist sharing some thoughts about efficiency and time management.
First, it must be said that the inexpert development and the clumsy rollout of electronic medical records (EMRs) have struck the biggest blow to the compensation potential and mental health of even the most efficient PCPs. Until that chasm is filled, there will be little progress in improving the efficiency and, consequently, the fair compensation of PCPs.
However, there is a myth that there is a direct correlation between the time spent with the patient and the quality of care. Eighty-five percent of PCPs report they would like to spend more time to get to know their patients. On the other hand, in my experience, really getting to know a patient is a process best done over multiple visits — some long, many of them short. It is unrealistic and inefficient to gain an in-depth understanding of the patient in a single visit.
Yes, one often hears a patient complain “they only spent 5 minutes with me.” While the patient may be technically correct, I contend that the provider’s manner has a major influence on the patient’s perception of the time spent in the exam room.
Was the provider reasonably prompt? In other words did they value my time? Did they appear rushed? Were they aware of my relevant history and prepared to deal with the current situation? In other words, did they do their homework? Did they engage me visually and seem to know what they were talking about? But, most importantly, did they exude sympathy and seem to care? Was I treated in the same manner that they would like to have been treated? If the answer is YES to those questions, then likely the patient could care less about the time spent.
It may seem counterintuitive to some of you, but there is a simple strategy that a provider can employ that will give them more time with the patient and at the same time allow them to claim to the boss that they are lowering the overhead costs. Management consultants often lean heavily on delegation as a more efficient use of resources. However, when the provider takes the patient’s vital signs and gives the injections, this multitasking provides an excellent hands-on opportunity to take the history and get to know the patient better. And, by giving the immunizations the provider is making the clearest statement possible that these vaccines are so important that they administer them personally.
You may have been wondering why I haven’t included the quality of PCP care in a discussion of compensation. It is because I don’t believe anyone has figured out how to do it in a manner that makes sense and is fair. PCPs don’t do procedures on which their success rate can be measured. A PCP’s patient panel almost by definition is going to be a mix of ages with a broad variety of complaints. Do they see enough diabetics to use their panel’s hemoglobin A1cs as a metric, or enough asthmatics to use emergency department visits as a quality-of-care measurement? In pediatrics, the closest we can come to a valid measure may be the provider’s vaccine acceptance rate.
But, then how does one factor in the general health of the community? If I open a practice in an underserved community, can you measure the quality of my care based on how quickly I can improve the metrics when I have no control over the poverty and educational system?
Since we aren’t surgeons, outcomes can’t be used to judge our quality. I’m afraid the only way we can assure quality is to demand evidence of our efforts to keep abreast of the current knowledge in our field and hope that at some level CME credits accumulated translate to the care we provide. A recent study has demonstrated an association between board certification exam board scores and newly trained internists and the care they provide. The patients of the physicians with the top scores had a lower risk of being readmitted to the hospital and were less likely to die in the first seven days of hospitalization.
We now may have come full circle. The fact is that, like it or not, our value to the folks that pay us lies in the number of patients we can bring into the system. To keep our overhead down, we will always be encouraged to see as many patients as we can, or at least be efficient. Even if there were a way to quantify the quality of our care using outcome metrics, the patients will continue to select their providers based on availability, and the professional and consumer-friendly behavior of those providers. The patients’ perception of how good we are at making them feel better may be our strongest argument for better compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I have already shared with you that healthcare systems value panel size and productivity when they are considering primary care physician compensation. Your employers also know that the market won’t bear a substantial price increase for the procedure-poor practice style typical of primary care. You know that the relative value unit (RVU) system for calculating complexity of service is time consuming and discourages the inclusion of customer-friendly short visits that could allow an efficient provider to see more patients. Unfortunately, there is little hope that RVUs will become more PCP-friendly in the near future.
However, before leaving the topic of value and moving on to a consideration of quality, I can’t resist sharing some thoughts about efficiency and time management.
First, it must be said that the inexpert development and the clumsy rollout of electronic medical records (EMRs) have struck the biggest blow to the compensation potential and mental health of even the most efficient PCPs. Until that chasm is filled, there will be little progress in improving the efficiency and, consequently, the fair compensation of PCPs.
However, there is a myth that there is a direct correlation between the time spent with the patient and the quality of care. Eighty-five percent of PCPs report they would like to spend more time to get to know their patients. On the other hand, in my experience, really getting to know a patient is a process best done over multiple visits — some long, many of them short. It is unrealistic and inefficient to gain an in-depth understanding of the patient in a single visit.
Yes, one often hears a patient complain “they only spent 5 minutes with me.” While the patient may be technically correct, I contend that the provider’s manner has a major influence on the patient’s perception of the time spent in the exam room.
Was the provider reasonably prompt? In other words did they value my time? Did they appear rushed? Were they aware of my relevant history and prepared to deal with the current situation? In other words, did they do their homework? Did they engage me visually and seem to know what they were talking about? But, most importantly, did they exude sympathy and seem to care? Was I treated in the same manner that they would like to have been treated? If the answer is YES to those questions, then likely the patient could care less about the time spent.
It may seem counterintuitive to some of you, but there is a simple strategy that a provider can employ that will give them more time with the patient and at the same time allow them to claim to the boss that they are lowering the overhead costs. Management consultants often lean heavily on delegation as a more efficient use of resources. However, when the provider takes the patient’s vital signs and gives the injections, this multitasking provides an excellent hands-on opportunity to take the history and get to know the patient better. And, by giving the immunizations the provider is making the clearest statement possible that these vaccines are so important that they administer them personally.
You may have been wondering why I haven’t included the quality of PCP care in a discussion of compensation. It is because I don’t believe anyone has figured out how to do it in a manner that makes sense and is fair. PCPs don’t do procedures on which their success rate can be measured. A PCP’s patient panel almost by definition is going to be a mix of ages with a broad variety of complaints. Do they see enough diabetics to use their panel’s hemoglobin A1cs as a metric, or enough asthmatics to use emergency department visits as a quality-of-care measurement? In pediatrics, the closest we can come to a valid measure may be the provider’s vaccine acceptance rate.
But, then how does one factor in the general health of the community? If I open a practice in an underserved community, can you measure the quality of my care based on how quickly I can improve the metrics when I have no control over the poverty and educational system?
Since we aren’t surgeons, outcomes can’t be used to judge our quality. I’m afraid the only way we can assure quality is to demand evidence of our efforts to keep abreast of the current knowledge in our field and hope that at some level CME credits accumulated translate to the care we provide. A recent study has demonstrated an association between board certification exam board scores and newly trained internists and the care they provide. The patients of the physicians with the top scores had a lower risk of being readmitted to the hospital and were less likely to die in the first seven days of hospitalization.
We now may have come full circle. The fact is that, like it or not, our value to the folks that pay us lies in the number of patients we can bring into the system. To keep our overhead down, we will always be encouraged to see as many patients as we can, or at least be efficient. Even if there were a way to quantify the quality of our care using outcome metrics, the patients will continue to select their providers based on availability, and the professional and consumer-friendly behavior of those providers. The patients’ perception of how good we are at making them feel better may be our strongest argument for better compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
I have already shared with you that healthcare systems value panel size and productivity when they are considering primary care physician compensation. Your employers also know that the market won’t bear a substantial price increase for the procedure-poor practice style typical of primary care. You know that the relative value unit (RVU) system for calculating complexity of service is time consuming and discourages the inclusion of customer-friendly short visits that could allow an efficient provider to see more patients. Unfortunately, there is little hope that RVUs will become more PCP-friendly in the near future.
However, before leaving the topic of value and moving on to a consideration of quality, I can’t resist sharing some thoughts about efficiency and time management.
First, it must be said that the inexpert development and the clumsy rollout of electronic medical records (EMRs) have struck the biggest blow to the compensation potential and mental health of even the most efficient PCPs. Until that chasm is filled, there will be little progress in improving the efficiency and, consequently, the fair compensation of PCPs.
However, there is a myth that there is a direct correlation between the time spent with the patient and the quality of care. Eighty-five percent of PCPs report they would like to spend more time to get to know their patients. On the other hand, in my experience, really getting to know a patient is a process best done over multiple visits — some long, many of them short. It is unrealistic and inefficient to gain an in-depth understanding of the patient in a single visit.
Yes, one often hears a patient complain “they only spent 5 minutes with me.” While the patient may be technically correct, I contend that the provider’s manner has a major influence on the patient’s perception of the time spent in the exam room.
Was the provider reasonably prompt? In other words did they value my time? Did they appear rushed? Were they aware of my relevant history and prepared to deal with the current situation? In other words, did they do their homework? Did they engage me visually and seem to know what they were talking about? But, most importantly, did they exude sympathy and seem to care? Was I treated in the same manner that they would like to have been treated? If the answer is YES to those questions, then likely the patient could care less about the time spent.
It may seem counterintuitive to some of you, but there is a simple strategy that a provider can employ that will give them more time with the patient and at the same time allow them to claim to the boss that they are lowering the overhead costs. Management consultants often lean heavily on delegation as a more efficient use of resources. However, when the provider takes the patient’s vital signs and gives the injections, this multitasking provides an excellent hands-on opportunity to take the history and get to know the patient better. And, by giving the immunizations the provider is making the clearest statement possible that these vaccines are so important that they administer them personally.
You may have been wondering why I haven’t included the quality of PCP care in a discussion of compensation. It is because I don’t believe anyone has figured out how to do it in a manner that makes sense and is fair. PCPs don’t do procedures on which their success rate can be measured. A PCP’s patient panel almost by definition is going to be a mix of ages with a broad variety of complaints. Do they see enough diabetics to use their panel’s hemoglobin A1cs as a metric, or enough asthmatics to use emergency department visits as a quality-of-care measurement? In pediatrics, the closest we can come to a valid measure may be the provider’s vaccine acceptance rate.
But, then how does one factor in the general health of the community? If I open a practice in an underserved community, can you measure the quality of my care based on how quickly I can improve the metrics when I have no control over the poverty and educational system?
Since we aren’t surgeons, outcomes can’t be used to judge our quality. I’m afraid the only way we can assure quality is to demand evidence of our efforts to keep abreast of the current knowledge in our field and hope that at some level CME credits accumulated translate to the care we provide. A recent study has demonstrated an association between board certification exam board scores and newly trained internists and the care they provide. The patients of the physicians with the top scores had a lower risk of being readmitted to the hospital and were less likely to die in the first seven days of hospitalization.
We now may have come full circle. The fact is that, like it or not, our value to the folks that pay us lies in the number of patients we can bring into the system. To keep our overhead down, we will always be encouraged to see as many patients as we can, or at least be efficient. Even if there were a way to quantify the quality of our care using outcome metrics, the patients will continue to select their providers based on availability, and the professional and consumer-friendly behavior of those providers. The patients’ perception of how good we are at making them feel better may be our strongest argument for better compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
PCP Compensation, Part 3
In Part 2 of this series on PCP Compensation, I concluded by saying that it is possible, maybe even likely, that growing your panel size will further endanger your health. When you share this concern with your boss, based purely on economic principles, he or she should answer, “How about charging more per visit?” However, your boss knows that third-party payers are going to look askance at that simple strategy. He or she may then suggest that you make each visit worth more to justify the increased charge.
Here is where the topic of Relative Value Units (RVUs) raises its ugly head.
Before the invention of “health insurance,” when the patient paid for his or her own office visits, it was an unspoken negotiation between patient and physician that decided the value of the care.
When third-party payers first came on the scene, the value of the visit was based roughly on the time spent with the patient. Coupling time spent with value gave no credit to more experienced or skilled physicians who were more efficient at managing their patients. If, on average, it took me 10 minutes to effectively manage an ear infection and my younger associate 20 minutes, should he or she be paid twice as much as I’m paid?
But, value spent on a crude estimate of time spent was a system ripe for abuse.
I have no way of knowing what other physicians were doing, but I suspect I was not alone in factoring my own assessment of “complexity” into the calculation when deciding what to bill for a visit, giving only a passing glance at the recommended time-based definitions of short, standard, and complex visits. The payers then began demanding a more definable method of determining complexity. The result was the RVU, the labor-intensive, but no more accurate, system in which the provider must build a case to defend his or her charges.
Unfortunately, the institution of the RVU system was a major contributor to the death of the short visit. The extra work required to submit and defend the coding of any visit meant that, from a strictly clerical point of view, the short visit became as costly to the business to process as a more complex visit. The result was that every astute business consultant worth his or her salt would begin with the recommendation to “Code up!” Do whatever it takes to build your case for a more complex visit even though it may be a stretch. (It would certainly mean a lot more time-gobbling documenting.) Stop doing short visits. They are your loss leaders.
Before there were RVUs, there was a way physicians could be profitable and include short visits in their schedule. But it meant the provider had to be efficient. But patients generally don’t like going to follow-up visits they see as needless. And, more often than not, the patients are correct. However, patients love the same-day availability that an abundance of short visits in a primary care provider’s schedule can offer. The patient who knows that he or she won’t have to wait weeks or months to see the provider is far less likely to show up at a visit with a laundry list as long as their arm of problems and questions they have saved up while they were waiting to get an appointment. It used to be possible to provide efficient and profitable care by including short visits in a PCP’s schedule. Whether it can still be done under the current RVU system is unclear and probably doubtful.
In the last and final Letter in this series, we will begin with a brief look at efficiency and a PCP’s contribution to overhead before exploring the more difficult subject of defining the quality of a provider’s care and how this could relate to compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
In Part 2 of this series on PCP Compensation, I concluded by saying that it is possible, maybe even likely, that growing your panel size will further endanger your health. When you share this concern with your boss, based purely on economic principles, he or she should answer, “How about charging more per visit?” However, your boss knows that third-party payers are going to look askance at that simple strategy. He or she may then suggest that you make each visit worth more to justify the increased charge.
Here is where the topic of Relative Value Units (RVUs) raises its ugly head.
Before the invention of “health insurance,” when the patient paid for his or her own office visits, it was an unspoken negotiation between patient and physician that decided the value of the care.
When third-party payers first came on the scene, the value of the visit was based roughly on the time spent with the patient. Coupling time spent with value gave no credit to more experienced or skilled physicians who were more efficient at managing their patients. If, on average, it took me 10 minutes to effectively manage an ear infection and my younger associate 20 minutes, should he or she be paid twice as much as I’m paid?
But, value spent on a crude estimate of time spent was a system ripe for abuse.
I have no way of knowing what other physicians were doing, but I suspect I was not alone in factoring my own assessment of “complexity” into the calculation when deciding what to bill for a visit, giving only a passing glance at the recommended time-based definitions of short, standard, and complex visits. The payers then began demanding a more definable method of determining complexity. The result was the RVU, the labor-intensive, but no more accurate, system in which the provider must build a case to defend his or her charges.
Unfortunately, the institution of the RVU system was a major contributor to the death of the short visit. The extra work required to submit and defend the coding of any visit meant that, from a strictly clerical point of view, the short visit became as costly to the business to process as a more complex visit. The result was that every astute business consultant worth his or her salt would begin with the recommendation to “Code up!” Do whatever it takes to build your case for a more complex visit even though it may be a stretch. (It would certainly mean a lot more time-gobbling documenting.) Stop doing short visits. They are your loss leaders.
Before there were RVUs, there was a way physicians could be profitable and include short visits in their schedule. But it meant the provider had to be efficient. But patients generally don’t like going to follow-up visits they see as needless. And, more often than not, the patients are correct. However, patients love the same-day availability that an abundance of short visits in a primary care provider’s schedule can offer. The patient who knows that he or she won’t have to wait weeks or months to see the provider is far less likely to show up at a visit with a laundry list as long as their arm of problems and questions they have saved up while they were waiting to get an appointment. It used to be possible to provide efficient and profitable care by including short visits in a PCP’s schedule. Whether it can still be done under the current RVU system is unclear and probably doubtful.
In the last and final Letter in this series, we will begin with a brief look at efficiency and a PCP’s contribution to overhead before exploring the more difficult subject of defining the quality of a provider’s care and how this could relate to compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.
In Part 2 of this series on PCP Compensation, I concluded by saying that it is possible, maybe even likely, that growing your panel size will further endanger your health. When you share this concern with your boss, based purely on economic principles, he or she should answer, “How about charging more per visit?” However, your boss knows that third-party payers are going to look askance at that simple strategy. He or she may then suggest that you make each visit worth more to justify the increased charge.
Here is where the topic of Relative Value Units (RVUs) raises its ugly head.
Before the invention of “health insurance,” when the patient paid for his or her own office visits, it was an unspoken negotiation between patient and physician that decided the value of the care.
When third-party payers first came on the scene, the value of the visit was based roughly on the time spent with the patient. Coupling time spent with value gave no credit to more experienced or skilled physicians who were more efficient at managing their patients. If, on average, it took me 10 minutes to effectively manage an ear infection and my younger associate 20 minutes, should he or she be paid twice as much as I’m paid?
But, value spent on a crude estimate of time spent was a system ripe for abuse.
I have no way of knowing what other physicians were doing, but I suspect I was not alone in factoring my own assessment of “complexity” into the calculation when deciding what to bill for a visit, giving only a passing glance at the recommended time-based definitions of short, standard, and complex visits. The payers then began demanding a more definable method of determining complexity. The result was the RVU, the labor-intensive, but no more accurate, system in which the provider must build a case to defend his or her charges.
Unfortunately, the institution of the RVU system was a major contributor to the death of the short visit. The extra work required to submit and defend the coding of any visit meant that, from a strictly clerical point of view, the short visit became as costly to the business to process as a more complex visit. The result was that every astute business consultant worth his or her salt would begin with the recommendation to “Code up!” Do whatever it takes to build your case for a more complex visit even though it may be a stretch. (It would certainly mean a lot more time-gobbling documenting.) Stop doing short visits. They are your loss leaders.
Before there were RVUs, there was a way physicians could be profitable and include short visits in their schedule. But it meant the provider had to be efficient. But patients generally don’t like going to follow-up visits they see as needless. And, more often than not, the patients are correct. However, patients love the same-day availability that an abundance of short visits in a primary care provider’s schedule can offer. The patient who knows that he or she won’t have to wait weeks or months to see the provider is far less likely to show up at a visit with a laundry list as long as their arm of problems and questions they have saved up while they were waiting to get an appointment. It used to be possible to provide efficient and profitable care by including short visits in a PCP’s schedule. Whether it can still be done under the current RVU system is unclear and probably doubtful.
In the last and final Letter in this series, we will begin with a brief look at efficiency and a PCP’s contribution to overhead before exploring the more difficult subject of defining the quality of a provider’s care and how this could relate to compensation.
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.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.