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In the Future, a Robot Intensivist May Save Your Life
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
They call it the “golden hour”: 60 minutes, give or take, when the chance to save the life of a trauma victim is at its greatest. If the patient can be resuscitated and stabilized in that time window, they stand a good chance of surviving. If not, well, they don’t.
But resuscitation is complicated. It requires blood products, fluids, vasopressors — all given in precise doses in response to rapidly changing hemodynamics. To do it right takes specialized training, advanced life support (ALS). If the patient is in a remote area or an area without ALS-certified emergency medical services, or is far from the nearest trauma center, that golden hour is lost. And the patient may be as well.
But we live in the future. We have robots in factories, self-driving cars, autonomous drones. Why not an autonomous trauma doctor? If you are in a life-threatening accident, would you want to be treated ... by a robot?
Enter “resuscitation based on functional hemodynamic monitoring,” or “ReFit,” introduced in this article appearing in the journal Intensive Care Medicine Experimental.
The idea behind ReFit is straightforward. Resuscitation after trauma should be based on hitting key hemodynamic targets using the tools we have available in the field: blood, fluids, pressors. The researchers wanted to develop a closed-loop system, something that could be used by minimally trained personnel. The input to the system? Hemodynamic data, provided through a single measurement device, an arterial catheter. The output: blood, fluids, and pressors, delivered intravenously.
The body (a prototype) of the system looks like this. You can see various pumps labeled with various fluids, electronic controllers, and so forth.
If that’s the body, then this is the brain – a ruggedized laptop interpreting a readout of that arterial catheter.
If that’s the brain, then the ReFit algorithm is the mind. The algorithm does its best to leverage all the data it can, so I want to walk through it in a bit of detail.
First, check to see whether the patient is stable, defined as a heart rate < 110 beats/min and a mean arterial pressure > 60 mm Hg. If not, you’re off to the races, starting with a bolus of whole blood.
Next, the algorithm gets really interesting. If the patient is still unstable, the computer assesses fluid responsiveness by giving a test dose of fluid and measuring the pulse pressure variation. Greater pulse pressure variation means more fluid responsiveness and the algorithm gives more fluid. Less pulse pressure variation leads the algorithm to uptitrate pressors — in this case, norepinephrine.
This cycle of evaluation and response keeps repeating. The computer titrates fluids and pressors up and down entirely on its own, in theory freeing the human team members to do other things, like getting the patient to a trauma center for definitive care.
So, how do you test whether something like this works? Clearly, you don’t want the trial run of a system like this to be used on a real human suffering from a real traumatic injury.
Once again, we have animals to thank for research advances — in this case, pigs. Fifteen pigs are described in the study. To simulate a severe, hemorrhagic trauma, they were anesthetized and the liver was lacerated. They were then observed passively until the mean arterial pressure had dropped to below 40 mm Hg.
This is a pretty severe injury. Three unfortunate animals served as controls, two of which died within the 3-hour time window of the study. Eight animals were plugged into the ReFit system.
For a window into what happens during this process, let’s take a look at the mean arterial pressure and heart rate readouts for one of the animals. You see that the blood pressure starts to fall precipitously after the liver laceration. The heart rate quickly picks up to compensate, raising the mean arterial pressure a bit, but this would be unsustainable with ongoing bleeding.
Here, the ReFit system takes over. Autonomously, the system administers two units of blood, followed by fluids, and then norepinephrine or further fluids per the protocol I described earlier. 
The practical upshot of all of this is stabilization, despite an as-yet untreated liver laceration.
Could an experienced ALS provider do this? Of course. But, as I mentioned before, you aren’t always near an experienced ALS provider.
This is all well and good in the lab, but in the real world, you actually need to transport a trauma patient. The researchers tried this also. To prove feasibility, four pigs were taken from the lab to the top of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, flown to Allegheny County Airport and back. Total time before liver laceration repair? Three hours. And all four survived.
It won’t surprise you to hear that this work was funded by the Department of Defense. You can see how a system like this, made a bit more rugged, a bit smaller, and a bit more self-contained could have real uses in the battlefield. But trauma is not unique to war, and something that can extend the time you have to safely transport a patient to definitive care — well, that’s worth its weight in golden hours.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
They call it the “golden hour”: 60 minutes, give or take, when the chance to save the life of a trauma victim is at its greatest. If the patient can be resuscitated and stabilized in that time window, they stand a good chance of surviving. If not, well, they don’t.
But resuscitation is complicated. It requires blood products, fluids, vasopressors — all given in precise doses in response to rapidly changing hemodynamics. To do it right takes specialized training, advanced life support (ALS). If the patient is in a remote area or an area without ALS-certified emergency medical services, or is far from the nearest trauma center, that golden hour is lost. And the patient may be as well.
But we live in the future. We have robots in factories, self-driving cars, autonomous drones. Why not an autonomous trauma doctor? If you are in a life-threatening accident, would you want to be treated ... by a robot?
Enter “resuscitation based on functional hemodynamic monitoring,” or “ReFit,” introduced in this article appearing in the journal Intensive Care Medicine Experimental.
The idea behind ReFit is straightforward. Resuscitation after trauma should be based on hitting key hemodynamic targets using the tools we have available in the field: blood, fluids, pressors. The researchers wanted to develop a closed-loop system, something that could be used by minimally trained personnel. The input to the system? Hemodynamic data, provided through a single measurement device, an arterial catheter. The output: blood, fluids, and pressors, delivered intravenously.
The body (a prototype) of the system looks like this. You can see various pumps labeled with various fluids, electronic controllers, and so forth.
If that’s the body, then this is the brain – a ruggedized laptop interpreting a readout of that arterial catheter.
If that’s the brain, then the ReFit algorithm is the mind. The algorithm does its best to leverage all the data it can, so I want to walk through it in a bit of detail.
First, check to see whether the patient is stable, defined as a heart rate < 110 beats/min and a mean arterial pressure > 60 mm Hg. If not, you’re off to the races, starting with a bolus of whole blood.
Next, the algorithm gets really interesting. If the patient is still unstable, the computer assesses fluid responsiveness by giving a test dose of fluid and measuring the pulse pressure variation. Greater pulse pressure variation means more fluid responsiveness and the algorithm gives more fluid. Less pulse pressure variation leads the algorithm to uptitrate pressors — in this case, norepinephrine.
This cycle of evaluation and response keeps repeating. The computer titrates fluids and pressors up and down entirely on its own, in theory freeing the human team members to do other things, like getting the patient to a trauma center for definitive care.
So, how do you test whether something like this works? Clearly, you don’t want the trial run of a system like this to be used on a real human suffering from a real traumatic injury.
Once again, we have animals to thank for research advances — in this case, pigs. Fifteen pigs are described in the study. To simulate a severe, hemorrhagic trauma, they were anesthetized and the liver was lacerated. They were then observed passively until the mean arterial pressure had dropped to below 40 mm Hg.
This is a pretty severe injury. Three unfortunate animals served as controls, two of which died within the 3-hour time window of the study. Eight animals were plugged into the ReFit system.
For a window into what happens during this process, let’s take a look at the mean arterial pressure and heart rate readouts for one of the animals. You see that the blood pressure starts to fall precipitously after the liver laceration. The heart rate quickly picks up to compensate, raising the mean arterial pressure a bit, but this would be unsustainable with ongoing bleeding.
Here, the ReFit system takes over. Autonomously, the system administers two units of blood, followed by fluids, and then norepinephrine or further fluids per the protocol I described earlier.
The practical upshot of all of this is stabilization, despite an as-yet untreated liver laceration.
Could an experienced ALS provider do this? Of course. But, as I mentioned before, you aren’t always near an experienced ALS provider.
This is all well and good in the lab, but in the real world, you actually need to transport a trauma patient. The researchers tried this also. To prove feasibility, four pigs were taken from the lab to the top of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, flown to Allegheny County Airport and back. Total time before liver laceration repair? Three hours. And all four survived.
It won’t surprise you to hear that this work was funded by the Department of Defense. You can see how a system like this, made a bit more rugged, a bit smaller, and a bit more self-contained could have real uses in the battlefield. But trauma is not unique to war, and something that can extend the time you have to safely transport a patient to definitive care — well, that’s worth its weight in golden hours.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
They call it the “golden hour”: 60 minutes, give or take, when the chance to save the life of a trauma victim is at its greatest. If the patient can be resuscitated and stabilized in that time window, they stand a good chance of surviving. If not, well, they don’t.
But resuscitation is complicated. It requires blood products, fluids, vasopressors — all given in precise doses in response to rapidly changing hemodynamics. To do it right takes specialized training, advanced life support (ALS). If the patient is in a remote area or an area without ALS-certified emergency medical services, or is far from the nearest trauma center, that golden hour is lost. And the patient may be as well.
But we live in the future. We have robots in factories, self-driving cars, autonomous drones. Why not an autonomous trauma doctor? If you are in a life-threatening accident, would you want to be treated ... by a robot?
Enter “resuscitation based on functional hemodynamic monitoring,” or “ReFit,” introduced in this article appearing in the journal Intensive Care Medicine Experimental.
The idea behind ReFit is straightforward. Resuscitation after trauma should be based on hitting key hemodynamic targets using the tools we have available in the field: blood, fluids, pressors. The researchers wanted to develop a closed-loop system, something that could be used by minimally trained personnel. The input to the system? Hemodynamic data, provided through a single measurement device, an arterial catheter. The output: blood, fluids, and pressors, delivered intravenously.
The body (a prototype) of the system looks like this. You can see various pumps labeled with various fluids, electronic controllers, and so forth.
If that’s the body, then this is the brain – a ruggedized laptop interpreting a readout of that arterial catheter.
If that’s the brain, then the ReFit algorithm is the mind. The algorithm does its best to leverage all the data it can, so I want to walk through it in a bit of detail.
First, check to see whether the patient is stable, defined as a heart rate < 110 beats/min and a mean arterial pressure > 60 mm Hg. If not, you’re off to the races, starting with a bolus of whole blood.
Next, the algorithm gets really interesting. If the patient is still unstable, the computer assesses fluid responsiveness by giving a test dose of fluid and measuring the pulse pressure variation. Greater pulse pressure variation means more fluid responsiveness and the algorithm gives more fluid. Less pulse pressure variation leads the algorithm to uptitrate pressors — in this case, norepinephrine.
This cycle of evaluation and response keeps repeating. The computer titrates fluids and pressors up and down entirely on its own, in theory freeing the human team members to do other things, like getting the patient to a trauma center for definitive care.
So, how do you test whether something like this works? Clearly, you don’t want the trial run of a system like this to be used on a real human suffering from a real traumatic injury.
Once again, we have animals to thank for research advances — in this case, pigs. Fifteen pigs are described in the study. To simulate a severe, hemorrhagic trauma, they were anesthetized and the liver was lacerated. They were then observed passively until the mean arterial pressure had dropped to below 40 mm Hg.
This is a pretty severe injury. Three unfortunate animals served as controls, two of which died within the 3-hour time window of the study. Eight animals were plugged into the ReFit system.
For a window into what happens during this process, let’s take a look at the mean arterial pressure and heart rate readouts for one of the animals. You see that the blood pressure starts to fall precipitously after the liver laceration. The heart rate quickly picks up to compensate, raising the mean arterial pressure a bit, but this would be unsustainable with ongoing bleeding.
Here, the ReFit system takes over. Autonomously, the system administers two units of blood, followed by fluids, and then norepinephrine or further fluids per the protocol I described earlier.
The practical upshot of all of this is stabilization, despite an as-yet untreated liver laceration.
Could an experienced ALS provider do this? Of course. But, as I mentioned before, you aren’t always near an experienced ALS provider.
This is all well and good in the lab, but in the real world, you actually need to transport a trauma patient. The researchers tried this also. To prove feasibility, four pigs were taken from the lab to the top of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, flown to Allegheny County Airport and back. Total time before liver laceration repair? Three hours. And all four survived.
It won’t surprise you to hear that this work was funded by the Department of Defense. You can see how a system like this, made a bit more rugged, a bit smaller, and a bit more self-contained could have real uses in the battlefield. But trauma is not unique to war, and something that can extend the time you have to safely transport a patient to definitive care — well, that’s worth its weight in golden hours.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
Beyond the Prescription Pad
The envelope was a small one, with a handwritten address. Of course, there were other things in the mail to sort through: insurance payments, bills, correspondence. So I attended to those while I made coffee and started my computer.
After a few minutes I came back to the small envelope.
Inside was a card from a recently widowed lady, thanking me for my care of her husband and telling me I was very kind.
I’d only seem him once, about a year ago, and then had a follow-up phone call to go over the results.
In medicine you develop, as I’ve previously written, “Spidey Sense.” Things alert you that something bad is going on, even when you can’t quite put your finger on it yet. His story set off several of my alarms, and I sent him off for tests.
A few days later the electromyography and nerve conduction velocity (EMG/NCV) specialist I’d referred him to called to confirm the gentleman had ALS. He’d given him the diagnosis and started him on riluzole.
I called the patient and his wife that night to discuss things in more detail. My colleague, since neuromuscular disease is his field, had already started the process (this isn’t patient poaching, he and I have worked together long enough that he knows I’d rather he take over the case). I explained things further. They didn’t have any questions.
I didn’t hear from them again until the card came. On the flip side was a picture of them and their extended family. I have no idea how they vote, or what their religion is, or how much money they have. None of that matters.
They’re nice people, and a patient, who came to me for help. I was touched by her appreciation for the little I could do, and that she took time to express that to me.
None of us cures anyone in the long run. We can put off the inevitable, do our best to relieve suffering, and try to bring comfort — even when the last is all we can do.
Here in 2024, with all of our medications and computers and tests it’s hard to believe that we still come up short — very short – against so many diseases. Yet we do.
All of us can only do our best, even when the best we can do is to be kind.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
The envelope was a small one, with a handwritten address. Of course, there were other things in the mail to sort through: insurance payments, bills, correspondence. So I attended to those while I made coffee and started my computer.
After a few minutes I came back to the small envelope.
Inside was a card from a recently widowed lady, thanking me for my care of her husband and telling me I was very kind.
I’d only seem him once, about a year ago, and then had a follow-up phone call to go over the results.
In medicine you develop, as I’ve previously written, “Spidey Sense.” Things alert you that something bad is going on, even when you can’t quite put your finger on it yet. His story set off several of my alarms, and I sent him off for tests.
A few days later the electromyography and nerve conduction velocity (EMG/NCV) specialist I’d referred him to called to confirm the gentleman had ALS. He’d given him the diagnosis and started him on riluzole.
I called the patient and his wife that night to discuss things in more detail. My colleague, since neuromuscular disease is his field, had already started the process (this isn’t patient poaching, he and I have worked together long enough that he knows I’d rather he take over the case). I explained things further. They didn’t have any questions.
I didn’t hear from them again until the card came. On the flip side was a picture of them and their extended family. I have no idea how they vote, or what their religion is, or how much money they have. None of that matters.
They’re nice people, and a patient, who came to me for help. I was touched by her appreciation for the little I could do, and that she took time to express that to me.
None of us cures anyone in the long run. We can put off the inevitable, do our best to relieve suffering, and try to bring comfort — even when the last is all we can do.
Here in 2024, with all of our medications and computers and tests it’s hard to believe that we still come up short — very short – against so many diseases. Yet we do.
All of us can only do our best, even when the best we can do is to be kind.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
The envelope was a small one, with a handwritten address. Of course, there were other things in the mail to sort through: insurance payments, bills, correspondence. So I attended to those while I made coffee and started my computer.
After a few minutes I came back to the small envelope.
Inside was a card from a recently widowed lady, thanking me for my care of her husband and telling me I was very kind.
I’d only seem him once, about a year ago, and then had a follow-up phone call to go over the results.
In medicine you develop, as I’ve previously written, “Spidey Sense.” Things alert you that something bad is going on, even when you can’t quite put your finger on it yet. His story set off several of my alarms, and I sent him off for tests.
A few days later the electromyography and nerve conduction velocity (EMG/NCV) specialist I’d referred him to called to confirm the gentleman had ALS. He’d given him the diagnosis and started him on riluzole.
I called the patient and his wife that night to discuss things in more detail. My colleague, since neuromuscular disease is his field, had already started the process (this isn’t patient poaching, he and I have worked together long enough that he knows I’d rather he take over the case). I explained things further. They didn’t have any questions.
I didn’t hear from them again until the card came. On the flip side was a picture of them and their extended family. I have no idea how they vote, or what their religion is, or how much money they have. None of that matters.
They’re nice people, and a patient, who came to me for help. I was touched by her appreciation for the little I could do, and that she took time to express that to me.
None of us cures anyone in the long run. We can put off the inevitable, do our best to relieve suffering, and try to bring comfort — even when the last is all we can do.
Here in 2024, with all of our medications and computers and tests it’s hard to believe that we still come up short — very short – against so many diseases. Yet we do.
All of us can only do our best, even when the best we can do is to be kind.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Fluoride, Water, and Kids’ Brains: It’s Complicated
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
I recently looked back at my folder full of these medical study commentaries, this weekly video series we call Impact Factor, and realized that I’ve been doing this for a long time. More than 400 articles, believe it or not.
I’ve learned a lot in that time — about medicine, of course — but also about how people react to certain topics. If you’ve been with me this whole time, or even for just a chunk of it, you’ll know that I tend to take a measured approach to most topics. No one study is ever truly definitive, after all. But regardless of how even-keeled I may be, there are some topics that I just know in advance are going to be a bit divisive: studies about gun control; studies about vitamin D; and, of course, studies about fluoride.
Shall We Shake This Hornet’s Nest?
The fluoridation of the US water system began in 1945 with the goal of reducing cavities in the population. The CDC named water fluoridation one of the 10 great public health achievements of the 20th century, along with such inarguable achievements as the recognition of tobacco as a health hazard.
But fluoridation has never been without its detractors. One problem is that the spectrum of beliefs about the potential harm of fluoridation is huge. On one end, you have science-based concerns such as the recognition that excessive fluoride intake can cause fluorosis and stain tooth enamel. I’ll note that the EPA regulates fluoride levels — there is a fair amount of naturally occurring fluoride in water tables around the world — to prevent this. And, of course, on the other end of the spectrum, you have beliefs that are essentially conspiracy theories: “They” add fluoride to the water supply to control us.
The challenge for me is that when one “side” of a scientific debate includes the crazy theories, it can be hard to discuss that whole spectrum, since there are those who will see evidence of any adverse fluoride effect as confirmation that the conspiracy theory is true.
I can’t help this. So I’ll just say this up front: I am about to tell you about a study that shows some potential risk from fluoride exposure. I will tell you up front that there are some significant caveats to the study that call the results into question. And I will tell you up front that no one is controlling your mind, or my mind, with fluoride; they do it with social media.
Let’s Dive Into These Shark-Infested, Fluoridated Waters
We’re talking about the study, “Maternal Urinary Fluoride and Child Neurobehavior at Age 36 Months,” which appears in JAMA Network Open.
It’s a study of 229 mother-child pairs from the Los Angeles area. The moms had their urinary fluoride level measured once before 30 weeks of gestation. A neurobehavioral battery called the Preschool Child Behavior Checklist was administered to the children at age 36 months.
The main thing you’ll hear about this study — in headlines, Facebook posts, and manifestos locked in drawers somewhere — is the primary result: A 0.68-mg/L increase in urinary fluoride in the mothers, about 25 percentile points, was associated with a doubling of the risk for neurobehavioral problems in their kids when they were 3 years old.
Yikes.
But this is not a randomized trial. Researchers didn’t randomly assign some women to have high fluoride intake and some women to have low fluoride intake. They knew that other factors that might lead to neurobehavioral problems could also lead to higher fluoride intake. They represent these factors in what’s known as a directed acyclic graph, as seen here, and account for them statistically using a regression equation.
Not represented here are neighborhood characteristics. Los Angeles does not have uniformly fluoridated water, and neurobehavioral problems in kids are strongly linked to stressors in their environments. Fluoride level could be an innocent bystander.
I’m really just describing the classic issue of correlation versus causation here, the bane of all observational research and — let’s be honest — a bit of a crutch that allows us to disregard the results of studies we don’t like, provided the study wasn’t a randomized trial.
But I have a deeper issue with this study than the old “failure to adjust for relevant confounders” thing, as important as that is.
The exposure of interest in this study is maternal urinary fluoride, as measured in a spot sample. It’s not often that I get to go deep on nephrology in this space, but let’s think about that for a second. Let’s assume for a moment that fluoride is toxic to the developing fetal brain, the main concern raised by the results of the study. How would that work? Presumably, mom would be ingesting fluoride from various sources (like the water supply), and that fluoride would get into her blood, and from her blood across the placenta to the baby’s blood, and into the baby’s brain.
Is Urinary Fluoride a Good Measure of Blood Fluoride?
It’s not great. Empirically, we have data that tell us that levels of urine fluoride are not all that similar to levels of serum fluoride. In 2014, a study investigated the correlation between urine and serum fluoride in a cohort of 60 schoolchildren and found a correlation coefficient of around 0.5.
Why isn’t urine fluoride a great proxy for serum fluoride? The most obvious reason is the urine concentration. Human urine concentration can range from about 50 mmol to 1200 mmol (a 24-fold difference) depending on hydration status. Over the course of 24 hours, for example, the amount of fluoride you put out in your urine may be fairly stable in relation to intake, but for a spot urine sample it would be wildly variable. The authors know this, of course, and so they divide the measured urine fluoride by the specific gravity of the urine to give a sort of “dilution adjusted” value. That’s what is actually used in this study. But specific gravity is, itself, an imperfect measure of how dilute the urine is.
This is something that comes up a lot in urinary biomarker research and it’s not that hard to get around. The best thing would be to just measure blood levels of fluoride. The second best option is 24-hour fluoride excretion. After that, the next best thing would be to adjust the spot concentration by other markers of urinary dilution — creatinine or osmolality — as sensitivity analyses. Any of these approaches would lend credence to the results of the study.
Urinary fluoride excretion is pH dependent. The more acidic the urine, the less fluoride is excreted. Many things — including, importantly, diet — affect urine pH. And it is not a stretch to think that diet may also affect the developing fetus. Neither urine pH nor dietary habits were accounted for in this study.
So, here we are. We have an observational study suggesting a harm that may be associated with fluoride. There may be a causal link here, in which case we need further studies to weigh the harm against the more well-established public health benefit. Or, this is all correlation — an illusion created by the limitations of observational data, and the unique challenges of estimating intake from a single urine sample. In other words, this study has something for everyone, fluoride boosters and skeptics alike. Let the arguments begin. But, if possible, leave me out of it.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
I recently looked back at my folder full of these medical study commentaries, this weekly video series we call Impact Factor, and realized that I’ve been doing this for a long time. More than 400 articles, believe it or not.
I’ve learned a lot in that time — about medicine, of course — but also about how people react to certain topics. If you’ve been with me this whole time, or even for just a chunk of it, you’ll know that I tend to take a measured approach to most topics. No one study is ever truly definitive, after all. But regardless of how even-keeled I may be, there are some topics that I just know in advance are going to be a bit divisive: studies about gun control; studies about vitamin D; and, of course, studies about fluoride.
Shall We Shake This Hornet’s Nest?
The fluoridation of the US water system began in 1945 with the goal of reducing cavities in the population. The CDC named water fluoridation one of the 10 great public health achievements of the 20th century, along with such inarguable achievements as the recognition of tobacco as a health hazard.
But fluoridation has never been without its detractors. One problem is that the spectrum of beliefs about the potential harm of fluoridation is huge. On one end, you have science-based concerns such as the recognition that excessive fluoride intake can cause fluorosis and stain tooth enamel. I’ll note that the EPA regulates fluoride levels — there is a fair amount of naturally occurring fluoride in water tables around the world — to prevent this. And, of course, on the other end of the spectrum, you have beliefs that are essentially conspiracy theories: “They” add fluoride to the water supply to control us.
The challenge for me is that when one “side” of a scientific debate includes the crazy theories, it can be hard to discuss that whole spectrum, since there are those who will see evidence of any adverse fluoride effect as confirmation that the conspiracy theory is true.
I can’t help this. So I’ll just say this up front: I am about to tell you about a study that shows some potential risk from fluoride exposure. I will tell you up front that there are some significant caveats to the study that call the results into question. And I will tell you up front that no one is controlling your mind, or my mind, with fluoride; they do it with social media.
Let’s Dive Into These Shark-Infested, Fluoridated Waters
We’re talking about the study, “Maternal Urinary Fluoride and Child Neurobehavior at Age 36 Months,” which appears in JAMA Network Open.
It’s a study of 229 mother-child pairs from the Los Angeles area. The moms had their urinary fluoride level measured once before 30 weeks of gestation. A neurobehavioral battery called the Preschool Child Behavior Checklist was administered to the children at age 36 months.
The main thing you’ll hear about this study — in headlines, Facebook posts, and manifestos locked in drawers somewhere — is the primary result: A 0.68-mg/L increase in urinary fluoride in the mothers, about 25 percentile points, was associated with a doubling of the risk for neurobehavioral problems in their kids when they were 3 years old.
Yikes.
But this is not a randomized trial. Researchers didn’t randomly assign some women to have high fluoride intake and some women to have low fluoride intake. They knew that other factors that might lead to neurobehavioral problems could also lead to higher fluoride intake. They represent these factors in what’s known as a directed acyclic graph, as seen here, and account for them statistically using a regression equation.
Not represented here are neighborhood characteristics. Los Angeles does not have uniformly fluoridated water, and neurobehavioral problems in kids are strongly linked to stressors in their environments. Fluoride level could be an innocent bystander.
I’m really just describing the classic issue of correlation versus causation here, the bane of all observational research and — let’s be honest — a bit of a crutch that allows us to disregard the results of studies we don’t like, provided the study wasn’t a randomized trial.
But I have a deeper issue with this study than the old “failure to adjust for relevant confounders” thing, as important as that is.
The exposure of interest in this study is maternal urinary fluoride, as measured in a spot sample. It’s not often that I get to go deep on nephrology in this space, but let’s think about that for a second. Let’s assume for a moment that fluoride is toxic to the developing fetal brain, the main concern raised by the results of the study. How would that work? Presumably, mom would be ingesting fluoride from various sources (like the water supply), and that fluoride would get into her blood, and from her blood across the placenta to the baby’s blood, and into the baby’s brain.
Is Urinary Fluoride a Good Measure of Blood Fluoride?
It’s not great. Empirically, we have data that tell us that levels of urine fluoride are not all that similar to levels of serum fluoride. In 2014, a study investigated the correlation between urine and serum fluoride in a cohort of 60 schoolchildren and found a correlation coefficient of around 0.5.
Why isn’t urine fluoride a great proxy for serum fluoride? The most obvious reason is the urine concentration. Human urine concentration can range from about 50 mmol to 1200 mmol (a 24-fold difference) depending on hydration status. Over the course of 24 hours, for example, the amount of fluoride you put out in your urine may be fairly stable in relation to intake, but for a spot urine sample it would be wildly variable. The authors know this, of course, and so they divide the measured urine fluoride by the specific gravity of the urine to give a sort of “dilution adjusted” value. That’s what is actually used in this study. But specific gravity is, itself, an imperfect measure of how dilute the urine is.
This is something that comes up a lot in urinary biomarker research and it’s not that hard to get around. The best thing would be to just measure blood levels of fluoride. The second best option is 24-hour fluoride excretion. After that, the next best thing would be to adjust the spot concentration by other markers of urinary dilution — creatinine or osmolality — as sensitivity analyses. Any of these approaches would lend credence to the results of the study.
Urinary fluoride excretion is pH dependent. The more acidic the urine, the less fluoride is excreted. Many things — including, importantly, diet — affect urine pH. And it is not a stretch to think that diet may also affect the developing fetus. Neither urine pH nor dietary habits were accounted for in this study.
So, here we are. We have an observational study suggesting a harm that may be associated with fluoride. There may be a causal link here, in which case we need further studies to weigh the harm against the more well-established public health benefit. Or, this is all correlation — an illusion created by the limitations of observational data, and the unique challenges of estimating intake from a single urine sample. In other words, this study has something for everyone, fluoride boosters and skeptics alike. Let the arguments begin. But, if possible, leave me out of it.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
I recently looked back at my folder full of these medical study commentaries, this weekly video series we call Impact Factor, and realized that I’ve been doing this for a long time. More than 400 articles, believe it or not.
I’ve learned a lot in that time — about medicine, of course — but also about how people react to certain topics. If you’ve been with me this whole time, or even for just a chunk of it, you’ll know that I tend to take a measured approach to most topics. No one study is ever truly definitive, after all. But regardless of how even-keeled I may be, there are some topics that I just know in advance are going to be a bit divisive: studies about gun control; studies about vitamin D; and, of course, studies about fluoride.
Shall We Shake This Hornet’s Nest?
The fluoridation of the US water system began in 1945 with the goal of reducing cavities in the population. The CDC named water fluoridation one of the 10 great public health achievements of the 20th century, along with such inarguable achievements as the recognition of tobacco as a health hazard.
But fluoridation has never been without its detractors. One problem is that the spectrum of beliefs about the potential harm of fluoridation is huge. On one end, you have science-based concerns such as the recognition that excessive fluoride intake can cause fluorosis and stain tooth enamel. I’ll note that the EPA regulates fluoride levels — there is a fair amount of naturally occurring fluoride in water tables around the world — to prevent this. And, of course, on the other end of the spectrum, you have beliefs that are essentially conspiracy theories: “They” add fluoride to the water supply to control us.
The challenge for me is that when one “side” of a scientific debate includes the crazy theories, it can be hard to discuss that whole spectrum, since there are those who will see evidence of any adverse fluoride effect as confirmation that the conspiracy theory is true.
I can’t help this. So I’ll just say this up front: I am about to tell you about a study that shows some potential risk from fluoride exposure. I will tell you up front that there are some significant caveats to the study that call the results into question. And I will tell you up front that no one is controlling your mind, or my mind, with fluoride; they do it with social media.
Let’s Dive Into These Shark-Infested, Fluoridated Waters
We’re talking about the study, “Maternal Urinary Fluoride and Child Neurobehavior at Age 36 Months,” which appears in JAMA Network Open.
It’s a study of 229 mother-child pairs from the Los Angeles area. The moms had their urinary fluoride level measured once before 30 weeks of gestation. A neurobehavioral battery called the Preschool Child Behavior Checklist was administered to the children at age 36 months.
The main thing you’ll hear about this study — in headlines, Facebook posts, and manifestos locked in drawers somewhere — is the primary result: A 0.68-mg/L increase in urinary fluoride in the mothers, about 25 percentile points, was associated with a doubling of the risk for neurobehavioral problems in their kids when they were 3 years old.
Yikes.
But this is not a randomized trial. Researchers didn’t randomly assign some women to have high fluoride intake and some women to have low fluoride intake. They knew that other factors that might lead to neurobehavioral problems could also lead to higher fluoride intake. They represent these factors in what’s known as a directed acyclic graph, as seen here, and account for them statistically using a regression equation.
Not represented here are neighborhood characteristics. Los Angeles does not have uniformly fluoridated water, and neurobehavioral problems in kids are strongly linked to stressors in their environments. Fluoride level could be an innocent bystander.
I’m really just describing the classic issue of correlation versus causation here, the bane of all observational research and — let’s be honest — a bit of a crutch that allows us to disregard the results of studies we don’t like, provided the study wasn’t a randomized trial.
But I have a deeper issue with this study than the old “failure to adjust for relevant confounders” thing, as important as that is.
The exposure of interest in this study is maternal urinary fluoride, as measured in a spot sample. It’s not often that I get to go deep on nephrology in this space, but let’s think about that for a second. Let’s assume for a moment that fluoride is toxic to the developing fetal brain, the main concern raised by the results of the study. How would that work? Presumably, mom would be ingesting fluoride from various sources (like the water supply), and that fluoride would get into her blood, and from her blood across the placenta to the baby’s blood, and into the baby’s brain.
Is Urinary Fluoride a Good Measure of Blood Fluoride?
It’s not great. Empirically, we have data that tell us that levels of urine fluoride are not all that similar to levels of serum fluoride. In 2014, a study investigated the correlation between urine and serum fluoride in a cohort of 60 schoolchildren and found a correlation coefficient of around 0.5.
Why isn’t urine fluoride a great proxy for serum fluoride? The most obvious reason is the urine concentration. Human urine concentration can range from about 50 mmol to 1200 mmol (a 24-fold difference) depending on hydration status. Over the course of 24 hours, for example, the amount of fluoride you put out in your urine may be fairly stable in relation to intake, but for a spot urine sample it would be wildly variable. The authors know this, of course, and so they divide the measured urine fluoride by the specific gravity of the urine to give a sort of “dilution adjusted” value. That’s what is actually used in this study. But specific gravity is, itself, an imperfect measure of how dilute the urine is.
This is something that comes up a lot in urinary biomarker research and it’s not that hard to get around. The best thing would be to just measure blood levels of fluoride. The second best option is 24-hour fluoride excretion. After that, the next best thing would be to adjust the spot concentration by other markers of urinary dilution — creatinine or osmolality — as sensitivity analyses. Any of these approaches would lend credence to the results of the study.
Urinary fluoride excretion is pH dependent. The more acidic the urine, the less fluoride is excreted. Many things — including, importantly, diet — affect urine pH. And it is not a stretch to think that diet may also affect the developing fetus. Neither urine pH nor dietary habits were accounted for in this study.
So, here we are. We have an observational study suggesting a harm that may be associated with fluoride. There may be a causal link here, in which case we need further studies to weigh the harm against the more well-established public health benefit. Or, this is all correlation — an illusion created by the limitations of observational data, and the unique challenges of estimating intake from a single urine sample. In other words, this study has something for everyone, fluoride boosters and skeptics alike. Let the arguments begin. But, if possible, leave me out of it.
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
Belimumab Autoinjector Approved for Pediatric Lupus
The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has approved Benlysta (belimumab) autoinjector for patients aged 5 years or older with active systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) on standard therapy. This is the first time that children with SLE can receive this treatment at home, according to a GSK press release.
Prior to this approval, pediatric patients aged 5 years or older could receive belimumab only intravenously via a 1-hour infusion in a hospital or clinic setting.
“Going to the doctor’s office once every 4 weeks can be a logistical hurdle for some children and their caregivers, so having the option to administer Benlysta in the comfort of their home provides much-needed flexibility,” Mary Crimmings, the interim CEO and senior vice president for marketing and communications at the Lupus Foundation of America, said in a statement.
An estimated 5000-10,000 children in the United States are living with SLE.
Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor approved for the treatment of active SLE and active lupus nephritis in patients aged 5 years or older receiving standard therapy. This approval of the subcutaneous administration of belimumab applies only to pediatric patients with SLE.
The 200-mg injection can be administered once every week for children who weigh ≥ 40 kg and should be given once every 2 weeks for children weighing between 15 and 40 kg.
The autoinjector “will be available immediately” for caregivers, the company announcement said.
“Patients are our top priority, and we are always working to innovate solutions that can improve lives and address unmet needs,” Court Horncastle, senior vice president and head of US specialty at GSK, said in the press release. “This approval for an at-home treatment is the first and only of its kind for children with lupus and is a testament to our continued commitment to the lupus community.”
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has approved Benlysta (belimumab) autoinjector for patients aged 5 years or older with active systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) on standard therapy. This is the first time that children with SLE can receive this treatment at home, according to a GSK press release.
Prior to this approval, pediatric patients aged 5 years or older could receive belimumab only intravenously via a 1-hour infusion in a hospital or clinic setting.
“Going to the doctor’s office once every 4 weeks can be a logistical hurdle for some children and their caregivers, so having the option to administer Benlysta in the comfort of their home provides much-needed flexibility,” Mary Crimmings, the interim CEO and senior vice president for marketing and communications at the Lupus Foundation of America, said in a statement.
An estimated 5000-10,000 children in the United States are living with SLE.
Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor approved for the treatment of active SLE and active lupus nephritis in patients aged 5 years or older receiving standard therapy. This approval of the subcutaneous administration of belimumab applies only to pediatric patients with SLE.
The 200-mg injection can be administered once every week for children who weigh ≥ 40 kg and should be given once every 2 weeks for children weighing between 15 and 40 kg.
The autoinjector “will be available immediately” for caregivers, the company announcement said.
“Patients are our top priority, and we are always working to innovate solutions that can improve lives and address unmet needs,” Court Horncastle, senior vice president and head of US specialty at GSK, said in the press release. “This approval for an at-home treatment is the first and only of its kind for children with lupus and is a testament to our continued commitment to the lupus community.”
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
The US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has approved Benlysta (belimumab) autoinjector for patients aged 5 years or older with active systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) on standard therapy. This is the first time that children with SLE can receive this treatment at home, according to a GSK press release.
Prior to this approval, pediatric patients aged 5 years or older could receive belimumab only intravenously via a 1-hour infusion in a hospital or clinic setting.
“Going to the doctor’s office once every 4 weeks can be a logistical hurdle for some children and their caregivers, so having the option to administer Benlysta in the comfort of their home provides much-needed flexibility,” Mary Crimmings, the interim CEO and senior vice president for marketing and communications at the Lupus Foundation of America, said in a statement.
An estimated 5000-10,000 children in the United States are living with SLE.
Belimumab is a B-lymphocyte stimulator–specific inhibitor approved for the treatment of active SLE and active lupus nephritis in patients aged 5 years or older receiving standard therapy. This approval of the subcutaneous administration of belimumab applies only to pediatric patients with SLE.
The 200-mg injection can be administered once every week for children who weigh ≥ 40 kg and should be given once every 2 weeks for children weighing between 15 and 40 kg.
The autoinjector “will be available immediately” for caregivers, the company announcement said.
“Patients are our top priority, and we are always working to innovate solutions that can improve lives and address unmet needs,” Court Horncastle, senior vice president and head of US specialty at GSK, said in the press release. “This approval for an at-home treatment is the first and only of its kind for children with lupus and is a testament to our continued commitment to the lupus community.”
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.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.
Specialists Are ‘Underwater’ With Some Insurance-Preferred Biosimilars
Editor’s note: This article is adapted from an explanatory statement that Dr. Feldman wrote for the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO).
According to the Guinness Book of World records, the longest time someone has held their breath underwater voluntarily is 24 minutes and 37.36 seconds. While certainly an amazing feat, UnitedHealthcare, many of the Blues, and other national “payers” are expecting rheumatologists and other specialists to live “underwater” in order to take care of their patients. In other words, these insurance companies are mandating that specialists use certain provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost is higher than what the insurance company is willing to reimburse them. Essentially, the insurance companies expect the rheumatologists to pay them to take care of their patients. Because of the substantial and destabilizing financial losses incurred, many practices and free-standing infusion centers have been forced to cease offering these biosimilars. Most rheumatologists will provide patients with appropriate alternatives when available and permitted by the insurer; otherwise, they must refer patients to hospital-based infusion centers. That results in delayed care and increased costs for patients and the system, because hospital-based infusion typically costs more than twice what office-based infusion costs.
Quantifying the Problem
To help quantify the magnitude of this issue, the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO) recently conducted a survey of its membership. A shocking 97% of respondents reported that their practice had been affected by reimbursement rates for some biosimilars being lower than acquisition costs, with 91% of respondents stating that this issue is more pronounced for certain biosimilars than others. Across the board, respondents most frequently identified Inflectra (infliximab-dyyb) and Avsola (infliximab-axxq) as being especially affected: Over 88% and over 85% of respondents identified these two products, respectively, as being underwater. These results support the ongoing anecdotal reports CSRO continues to receive from rheumatology practices.
However, the survey results indicated that this issue is by no means confined to those two biosimilars. Truxima (rituximab-abbs) — a biosimilar for Rituxan — was frequently mentioned as well. Notably, respondents almost uniformly identified biosimilars in the infliximab and rituximab families, which illustrates that this issue is no longer confined to one or two early-to-market biosimilars but has almost become a hallmark of this particular biosimilars market. Remarkably, one respondent commented that the brand products are now cheaper to acquire than the biosimilars. Furthermore, the survey included respondents from across the country, indicating that this issue is not confined to a particular region.
How Did This Happen?
Biosimilars held promise for increasing availability and decreasing biologic costs for patients but, thus far, no patients have seen their cost go down. It appears that the only biosimilars that have made it to “preferred” status on the formulary are the ones that have made more money for the middlemen in the drug supply chain, particularly those that construct formularies. Now, we have provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost exceeds the reimbursement for these drugs. This disparity was ultimately created by biosimilar manufacturers “over-rebating” their drugs to health insurance companies to gain “fail-first” status on the formulary.
For example, the manufacturer of Inflectra offered substantial rebates to health insurers for preferred formulary placement. These rebates are factored into the sales price of the medication, which then results in a rapidly declining average sales price (ASP) for the biosimilar. Unfortunately, the acquisition cost for the drug does not experience commensurate reductions, resulting in physicians being reimbursed far less for the drug than it costs to acquire. The financial losses for physicians put them underwater as a result of the acquisition costs for the preferred drugs far surpassing the reimbursement from the health insurance company that constructed the formulary.
While various factors affect ASPs and acquisition costs, this particular consequence of formulary placement based on price concessions is a major driver of the underwater situation in which physicians have found themselves with many biosimilars. Not only does that lead to a lower uptake of biosimilars, but it also results in patients being referred to the hospital outpatient infusion sites to receive this care, as freestanding infusion centers cannot treat these patients either. Hospitals incur higher costs because of facility fees and elevated rates, and this makes private rheumatology in-office infusion centers a much lower-cost option. Similarly, home infusion services, while convenient, are marginally more expensive than private practices and, in cases of biologic infusions, it is important to note that physicians’ offices have a greater safety profile than home infusion of biologics. The overall result of these “fail-first underwater drugs” is delayed and more costly care for the patient and the “system,” particularly self-insured employers.
What Is Being Done to Correct This?
Since ASPs are updated quarterly, it is possible that acquisition costs and reimbursements might stabilize over time, making the drugs affordable again to practices. However, that does not appear to be happening in the near future, so that possibility does not offer immediate relief to struggling practices. It doesn’t promise a favorable outlook for future biosimilar entries of provider-administered medications if formularies continue to prefer the highest-rebated medication.
This dynamic between ASP and acquisition cost does not happen on the pharmacy side because the price concessions on specific drug rebates and fees are proprietary. There appears to be no equivalent to a publicly known ASP on the pharmacy side, which has led to myriad pricing definitions and manipulation on the pharmacy benefit side of medications. In any event, the savings from rebates and other manufacturer price concessions on pharmacy drugs do not influence ASPs of medical benefit drugs.
The Inflation Reduction Act provided a temporary increase in the add-on payment for biosimilars from ASP+6% to ASP+8%, but as long as the biosimilar’s ASP is lower than the reference brand’s ASP, that temporary increase does not appear to make up for the large differential between ASP and acquisition cost. It should be noted that any federal attempt to artificially lower the ASP of a provider-administered drug without a pathway assuring that the acquisition cost for the provider is less than the reimbursement is going to result in loss of access for patients to those medications and/or higher hospital site of care costs.
A Few Partial Fixes, But Most Complaints Go Ignored
Considering the higher costs of hospital-based infusion, insurers should be motivated to keep patients within private practices. Perhaps through insurers’ recognition of that fact, some practices have successfully negotiated exceptions for specific patients by discussing this situation with insurers. From the feedback that CSRO has received from rheumatology practices, it appears that most insurers have been ignoring the complaints from physicians. The few who have responded have resulted in only partial fixes, with some of the biosimilars still left underwater.
Ultimate Solution?
This issue is a direct result of the “rebate game,” whereby price concessions from drug manufacturers drive formulary placement. For provider-administered medications, this results in an artificially lowered ASP, not as a consequence of free-market incentives that benefit the patient, but as a result of misaligned incentives created by Safe Harbor–protected “kickbacks,” distorting the free market and paradoxically reducing access to these medications, delaying care, and increasing prices for patients and the healthcare system.
While federal and state governments are not likely to address this particular situation in the biosimilars market, CSRO is highlighting this issue as a prime example of why the current formulary construction system urgently requires federal reform. At this time, the biosimilars most affected are Inflectra and Avsola, but if nothing changes, more and more biosimilars will fall victim to the short-sighted pricing strategy of aggressive rebating to gain formulary position, with physician purchasers and patients left to navigate the aftermath. The existing system, which necessitates drug companies purchasing formulary access from pharmacy benefit managers, has led to delayed and even denied patient access to certain provider-administered drugs. Moreover, it now appears to be hindering the adoption of biosimilars.
To address this, a multifaceted approach is required. It not only involves reevaluating the rebate system and its impact on formulary construction and ASP, but also ensuring that acquisition costs for providers are aligned with reimbursement rates. Insurers must recognize the economic and clinical value of maintaining infusions within private practices and immediately update their policies to ensure that physician in-office infusion is financially feasible for these “fail-first” biosimilars.
Ultimately, the goal should be to create a sustainable model that promotes the use of affordable biosimilars, enhances patient access to affordable care, and supports the financial viability of medical practices. Concerted efforts to reform the current formulary construction system are required to achieve a healthcare environment that is both cost effective and patient centric.
Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is the CSRO’s vice president of advocacy and government affairs and its immediate past president, as well as past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.
Editor’s note: This article is adapted from an explanatory statement that Dr. Feldman wrote for the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO).
According to the Guinness Book of World records, the longest time someone has held their breath underwater voluntarily is 24 minutes and 37.36 seconds. While certainly an amazing feat, UnitedHealthcare, many of the Blues, and other national “payers” are expecting rheumatologists and other specialists to live “underwater” in order to take care of their patients. In other words, these insurance companies are mandating that specialists use certain provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost is higher than what the insurance company is willing to reimburse them. Essentially, the insurance companies expect the rheumatologists to pay them to take care of their patients. Because of the substantial and destabilizing financial losses incurred, many practices and free-standing infusion centers have been forced to cease offering these biosimilars. Most rheumatologists will provide patients with appropriate alternatives when available and permitted by the insurer; otherwise, they must refer patients to hospital-based infusion centers. That results in delayed care and increased costs for patients and the system, because hospital-based infusion typically costs more than twice what office-based infusion costs.
Quantifying the Problem
To help quantify the magnitude of this issue, the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO) recently conducted a survey of its membership. A shocking 97% of respondents reported that their practice had been affected by reimbursement rates for some biosimilars being lower than acquisition costs, with 91% of respondents stating that this issue is more pronounced for certain biosimilars than others. Across the board, respondents most frequently identified Inflectra (infliximab-dyyb) and Avsola (infliximab-axxq) as being especially affected: Over 88% and over 85% of respondents identified these two products, respectively, as being underwater. These results support the ongoing anecdotal reports CSRO continues to receive from rheumatology practices.
However, the survey results indicated that this issue is by no means confined to those two biosimilars. Truxima (rituximab-abbs) — a biosimilar for Rituxan — was frequently mentioned as well. Notably, respondents almost uniformly identified biosimilars in the infliximab and rituximab families, which illustrates that this issue is no longer confined to one or two early-to-market biosimilars but has almost become a hallmark of this particular biosimilars market. Remarkably, one respondent commented that the brand products are now cheaper to acquire than the biosimilars. Furthermore, the survey included respondents from across the country, indicating that this issue is not confined to a particular region.
How Did This Happen?
Biosimilars held promise for increasing availability and decreasing biologic costs for patients but, thus far, no patients have seen their cost go down. It appears that the only biosimilars that have made it to “preferred” status on the formulary are the ones that have made more money for the middlemen in the drug supply chain, particularly those that construct formularies. Now, we have provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost exceeds the reimbursement for these drugs. This disparity was ultimately created by biosimilar manufacturers “over-rebating” their drugs to health insurance companies to gain “fail-first” status on the formulary.
For example, the manufacturer of Inflectra offered substantial rebates to health insurers for preferred formulary placement. These rebates are factored into the sales price of the medication, which then results in a rapidly declining average sales price (ASP) for the biosimilar. Unfortunately, the acquisition cost for the drug does not experience commensurate reductions, resulting in physicians being reimbursed far less for the drug than it costs to acquire. The financial losses for physicians put them underwater as a result of the acquisition costs for the preferred drugs far surpassing the reimbursement from the health insurance company that constructed the formulary.
While various factors affect ASPs and acquisition costs, this particular consequence of formulary placement based on price concessions is a major driver of the underwater situation in which physicians have found themselves with many biosimilars. Not only does that lead to a lower uptake of biosimilars, but it also results in patients being referred to the hospital outpatient infusion sites to receive this care, as freestanding infusion centers cannot treat these patients either. Hospitals incur higher costs because of facility fees and elevated rates, and this makes private rheumatology in-office infusion centers a much lower-cost option. Similarly, home infusion services, while convenient, are marginally more expensive than private practices and, in cases of biologic infusions, it is important to note that physicians’ offices have a greater safety profile than home infusion of biologics. The overall result of these “fail-first underwater drugs” is delayed and more costly care for the patient and the “system,” particularly self-insured employers.
What Is Being Done to Correct This?
Since ASPs are updated quarterly, it is possible that acquisition costs and reimbursements might stabilize over time, making the drugs affordable again to practices. However, that does not appear to be happening in the near future, so that possibility does not offer immediate relief to struggling practices. It doesn’t promise a favorable outlook for future biosimilar entries of provider-administered medications if formularies continue to prefer the highest-rebated medication.
This dynamic between ASP and acquisition cost does not happen on the pharmacy side because the price concessions on specific drug rebates and fees are proprietary. There appears to be no equivalent to a publicly known ASP on the pharmacy side, which has led to myriad pricing definitions and manipulation on the pharmacy benefit side of medications. In any event, the savings from rebates and other manufacturer price concessions on pharmacy drugs do not influence ASPs of medical benefit drugs.
The Inflation Reduction Act provided a temporary increase in the add-on payment for biosimilars from ASP+6% to ASP+8%, but as long as the biosimilar’s ASP is lower than the reference brand’s ASP, that temporary increase does not appear to make up for the large differential between ASP and acquisition cost. It should be noted that any federal attempt to artificially lower the ASP of a provider-administered drug without a pathway assuring that the acquisition cost for the provider is less than the reimbursement is going to result in loss of access for patients to those medications and/or higher hospital site of care costs.
A Few Partial Fixes, But Most Complaints Go Ignored
Considering the higher costs of hospital-based infusion, insurers should be motivated to keep patients within private practices. Perhaps through insurers’ recognition of that fact, some practices have successfully negotiated exceptions for specific patients by discussing this situation with insurers. From the feedback that CSRO has received from rheumatology practices, it appears that most insurers have been ignoring the complaints from physicians. The few who have responded have resulted in only partial fixes, with some of the biosimilars still left underwater.
Ultimate Solution?
This issue is a direct result of the “rebate game,” whereby price concessions from drug manufacturers drive formulary placement. For provider-administered medications, this results in an artificially lowered ASP, not as a consequence of free-market incentives that benefit the patient, but as a result of misaligned incentives created by Safe Harbor–protected “kickbacks,” distorting the free market and paradoxically reducing access to these medications, delaying care, and increasing prices for patients and the healthcare system.
While federal and state governments are not likely to address this particular situation in the biosimilars market, CSRO is highlighting this issue as a prime example of why the current formulary construction system urgently requires federal reform. At this time, the biosimilars most affected are Inflectra and Avsola, but if nothing changes, more and more biosimilars will fall victim to the short-sighted pricing strategy of aggressive rebating to gain formulary position, with physician purchasers and patients left to navigate the aftermath. The existing system, which necessitates drug companies purchasing formulary access from pharmacy benefit managers, has led to delayed and even denied patient access to certain provider-administered drugs. Moreover, it now appears to be hindering the adoption of biosimilars.
To address this, a multifaceted approach is required. It not only involves reevaluating the rebate system and its impact on formulary construction and ASP, but also ensuring that acquisition costs for providers are aligned with reimbursement rates. Insurers must recognize the economic and clinical value of maintaining infusions within private practices and immediately update their policies to ensure that physician in-office infusion is financially feasible for these “fail-first” biosimilars.
Ultimately, the goal should be to create a sustainable model that promotes the use of affordable biosimilars, enhances patient access to affordable care, and supports the financial viability of medical practices. Concerted efforts to reform the current formulary construction system are required to achieve a healthcare environment that is both cost effective and patient centric.
Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is the CSRO’s vice president of advocacy and government affairs and its immediate past president, as well as past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.
Editor’s note: This article is adapted from an explanatory statement that Dr. Feldman wrote for the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO).
According to the Guinness Book of World records, the longest time someone has held their breath underwater voluntarily is 24 minutes and 37.36 seconds. While certainly an amazing feat, UnitedHealthcare, many of the Blues, and other national “payers” are expecting rheumatologists and other specialists to live “underwater” in order to take care of their patients. In other words, these insurance companies are mandating that specialists use certain provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost is higher than what the insurance company is willing to reimburse them. Essentially, the insurance companies expect the rheumatologists to pay them to take care of their patients. Because of the substantial and destabilizing financial losses incurred, many practices and free-standing infusion centers have been forced to cease offering these biosimilars. Most rheumatologists will provide patients with appropriate alternatives when available and permitted by the insurer; otherwise, they must refer patients to hospital-based infusion centers. That results in delayed care and increased costs for patients and the system, because hospital-based infusion typically costs more than twice what office-based infusion costs.
Quantifying the Problem
To help quantify the magnitude of this issue, the Coalition of State Rheumatology Organizations (CSRO) recently conducted a survey of its membership. A shocking 97% of respondents reported that their practice had been affected by reimbursement rates for some biosimilars being lower than acquisition costs, with 91% of respondents stating that this issue is more pronounced for certain biosimilars than others. Across the board, respondents most frequently identified Inflectra (infliximab-dyyb) and Avsola (infliximab-axxq) as being especially affected: Over 88% and over 85% of respondents identified these two products, respectively, as being underwater. These results support the ongoing anecdotal reports CSRO continues to receive from rheumatology practices.
However, the survey results indicated that this issue is by no means confined to those two biosimilars. Truxima (rituximab-abbs) — a biosimilar for Rituxan — was frequently mentioned as well. Notably, respondents almost uniformly identified biosimilars in the infliximab and rituximab families, which illustrates that this issue is no longer confined to one or two early-to-market biosimilars but has almost become a hallmark of this particular biosimilars market. Remarkably, one respondent commented that the brand products are now cheaper to acquire than the biosimilars. Furthermore, the survey included respondents from across the country, indicating that this issue is not confined to a particular region.
How Did This Happen?
Biosimilars held promise for increasing availability and decreasing biologic costs for patients but, thus far, no patients have seen their cost go down. It appears that the only biosimilars that have made it to “preferred” status on the formulary are the ones that have made more money for the middlemen in the drug supply chain, particularly those that construct formularies. Now, we have provider-administered biosimilars whose acquisition cost exceeds the reimbursement for these drugs. This disparity was ultimately created by biosimilar manufacturers “over-rebating” their drugs to health insurance companies to gain “fail-first” status on the formulary.
For example, the manufacturer of Inflectra offered substantial rebates to health insurers for preferred formulary placement. These rebates are factored into the sales price of the medication, which then results in a rapidly declining average sales price (ASP) for the biosimilar. Unfortunately, the acquisition cost for the drug does not experience commensurate reductions, resulting in physicians being reimbursed far less for the drug than it costs to acquire. The financial losses for physicians put them underwater as a result of the acquisition costs for the preferred drugs far surpassing the reimbursement from the health insurance company that constructed the formulary.
While various factors affect ASPs and acquisition costs, this particular consequence of formulary placement based on price concessions is a major driver of the underwater situation in which physicians have found themselves with many biosimilars. Not only does that lead to a lower uptake of biosimilars, but it also results in patients being referred to the hospital outpatient infusion sites to receive this care, as freestanding infusion centers cannot treat these patients either. Hospitals incur higher costs because of facility fees and elevated rates, and this makes private rheumatology in-office infusion centers a much lower-cost option. Similarly, home infusion services, while convenient, are marginally more expensive than private practices and, in cases of biologic infusions, it is important to note that physicians’ offices have a greater safety profile than home infusion of biologics. The overall result of these “fail-first underwater drugs” is delayed and more costly care for the patient and the “system,” particularly self-insured employers.
What Is Being Done to Correct This?
Since ASPs are updated quarterly, it is possible that acquisition costs and reimbursements might stabilize over time, making the drugs affordable again to practices. However, that does not appear to be happening in the near future, so that possibility does not offer immediate relief to struggling practices. It doesn’t promise a favorable outlook for future biosimilar entries of provider-administered medications if formularies continue to prefer the highest-rebated medication.
This dynamic between ASP and acquisition cost does not happen on the pharmacy side because the price concessions on specific drug rebates and fees are proprietary. There appears to be no equivalent to a publicly known ASP on the pharmacy side, which has led to myriad pricing definitions and manipulation on the pharmacy benefit side of medications. In any event, the savings from rebates and other manufacturer price concessions on pharmacy drugs do not influence ASPs of medical benefit drugs.
The Inflation Reduction Act provided a temporary increase in the add-on payment for biosimilars from ASP+6% to ASP+8%, but as long as the biosimilar’s ASP is lower than the reference brand’s ASP, that temporary increase does not appear to make up for the large differential between ASP and acquisition cost. It should be noted that any federal attempt to artificially lower the ASP of a provider-administered drug without a pathway assuring that the acquisition cost for the provider is less than the reimbursement is going to result in loss of access for patients to those medications and/or higher hospital site of care costs.
A Few Partial Fixes, But Most Complaints Go Ignored
Considering the higher costs of hospital-based infusion, insurers should be motivated to keep patients within private practices. Perhaps through insurers’ recognition of that fact, some practices have successfully negotiated exceptions for specific patients by discussing this situation with insurers. From the feedback that CSRO has received from rheumatology practices, it appears that most insurers have been ignoring the complaints from physicians. The few who have responded have resulted in only partial fixes, with some of the biosimilars still left underwater.
Ultimate Solution?
This issue is a direct result of the “rebate game,” whereby price concessions from drug manufacturers drive formulary placement. For provider-administered medications, this results in an artificially lowered ASP, not as a consequence of free-market incentives that benefit the patient, but as a result of misaligned incentives created by Safe Harbor–protected “kickbacks,” distorting the free market and paradoxically reducing access to these medications, delaying care, and increasing prices for patients and the healthcare system.
While federal and state governments are not likely to address this particular situation in the biosimilars market, CSRO is highlighting this issue as a prime example of why the current formulary construction system urgently requires federal reform. At this time, the biosimilars most affected are Inflectra and Avsola, but if nothing changes, more and more biosimilars will fall victim to the short-sighted pricing strategy of aggressive rebating to gain formulary position, with physician purchasers and patients left to navigate the aftermath. The existing system, which necessitates drug companies purchasing formulary access from pharmacy benefit managers, has led to delayed and even denied patient access to certain provider-administered drugs. Moreover, it now appears to be hindering the adoption of biosimilars.
To address this, a multifaceted approach is required. It not only involves reevaluating the rebate system and its impact on formulary construction and ASP, but also ensuring that acquisition costs for providers are aligned with reimbursement rates. Insurers must recognize the economic and clinical value of maintaining infusions within private practices and immediately update their policies to ensure that physician in-office infusion is financially feasible for these “fail-first” biosimilars.
Ultimately, the goal should be to create a sustainable model that promotes the use of affordable biosimilars, enhances patient access to affordable care, and supports the financial viability of medical practices. Concerted efforts to reform the current formulary construction system are required to achieve a healthcare environment that is both cost effective and patient centric.
Dr. Feldman is a rheumatologist in private practice with The Rheumatology Group in New Orleans. She is the CSRO’s vice president of advocacy and government affairs and its immediate past president, as well as past chair of the Alliance for Safe Biologic Medicines and a past member of the American College of Rheumatology insurance subcommittee. You can reach her at rhnews@mdedge.com.
CPAP Underperforms: The Sequel
A few months ago, I posted a column on continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) with the title, “CPAP Oversells and Underperforms.” To date, it has 299 likes and 90 comments, which are almost all negative. I’m glad to see that it’s generated interest, and I’d like to address some of the themes expressed in the posts.
Most comments were personal testimonies to the miracles of CPAP. These are important, and the point deserves emphasis. CPAP can provide significant improvements in daytime sleepiness and quality of life. I closed the original piece by acknowledging this important fact. Readers can be forgiven for missing it given that the title and text were otherwise disparaging of CPAP.
But several comments warrant a more in-depth discussion. The original piece focuses on CPAP and cardiovascular (CV) outcomes but made no mention of atrial fibrillation (AF) or ejection fraction (EF). The effects of CPAP on each are touted by cardiologists and PAP-pushers alike and are drivers of frequent referrals. It›s my fault for omitting them from the discussion.
AF is easy. The data is identical to all other things CPAP and CV. Based on biologic plausibility alone, the likelihood of a relationship between AF and obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is similar to the odds that the Celtics raise an 18th banner come June. There’s hypoxia, intrathoracic pressure swings, sympathetic surges, and sleep state disruptions. It’s easy to get from there to arrhythmogenesis. There’s lots of observational noise, too, but no randomized proof that CPAP alters this relationship.
I found four randomized controlled trials (RCTs) that tested CPAP’s effect on AF. I’ll save you the suspense; they were all negative. One even found a signal for more adverse events in the CPAP group. These studies have several positive qualities: They enrolled patients with moderate to severe sleep apnea and high oxygen desaturation indices, adherence averaged more than 4 hours across all groups in all trials, and the methods for assessing the AF outcomes differed slightly. There’s also a lot not to like: The sample sizes were small, only one trial enrolled “sleepy” patients (as assessed by the Epworth Sleepiness Score), and follow-up was short.
To paraphrase Carl Sagan, “absence of evidence does not equal evidence of absence.” As a statistician would say, type II error cannot be excluded by these RCTs. In medicine, however, the burden of proof falls on demonstrating efficacy. If we treat before concluding that a therapy works, we risk wasting time, money, medical resources, and the most precious of patient commodities: the energy required for behavior change. In their response to letters to the editor, the authors of the third RCT summarize the CPAP, AF, and CV disease data far better than I ever could. They sound the same words of caution and come out against screening patients with AF for OSA.
The story for CPAP’s effects on EF is similar though muddier. The American College of Cardiology (ACC)/American Heart Association (AHA) guidelines for heart failure cite a meta-analysis showing that CPAP improves left ventricular EF. In 2019, the American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) CPAP guidelines included a systematic review and meta-analysis that found that CPAP has no effect on left ventricular EF in patients with or without heart failure.
There are a million reasons why two systematic reviews on the same topic might come to different conclusions. In this case, the included studies only partially overlap, and broadly speaking, it appears the authors made trade-offs. The review cited by the ACC/AHA had broader inclusion and significantly more patients and paid for it in heterogeneity (I2 in the 80%-90% range). The AASM analysis achieved 0% heterogeneity but limited inclusion to fewer than 100 patients. Across both, the improvement in EF was 2%- 5% at a minimally clinically important difference of 4%. Hardly convincing.
In summary, the road to negative trials and patient harm has always been paved with observational signal and biologic plausibility. Throw in some intellectual and academic bias, and you’ve created the perfect storm of therapeutic overconfidence.
Dr. Holley is a professor in the department of medicine, Uniformed Services University, Bethesda, Maryland, and a physician at Pulmonary/Sleep and Critical Care Medicine, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He disclosed ties to Metapharm Inc., CHEST College, and WebMD.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com .
A few months ago, I posted a column on continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) with the title, “CPAP Oversells and Underperforms.” To date, it has 299 likes and 90 comments, which are almost all negative. I’m glad to see that it’s generated interest, and I’d like to address some of the themes expressed in the posts.
Most comments were personal testimonies to the miracles of CPAP. These are important, and the point deserves emphasis. CPAP can provide significant improvements in daytime sleepiness and quality of life. I closed the original piece by acknowledging this important fact. Readers can be forgiven for missing it given that the title and text were otherwise disparaging of CPAP.
But several comments warrant a more in-depth discussion. The original piece focuses on CPAP and cardiovascular (CV) outcomes but made no mention of atrial fibrillation (AF) or ejection fraction (EF). The effects of CPAP on each are touted by cardiologists and PAP-pushers alike and are drivers of frequent referrals. It›s my fault for omitting them from the discussion.
AF is easy. The data is identical to all other things CPAP and CV. Based on biologic plausibility alone, the likelihood of a relationship between AF and obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is similar to the odds that the Celtics raise an 18th banner come June. There’s hypoxia, intrathoracic pressure swings, sympathetic surges, and sleep state disruptions. It’s easy to get from there to arrhythmogenesis. There’s lots of observational noise, too, but no randomized proof that CPAP alters this relationship.
I found four randomized controlled trials (RCTs) that tested CPAP’s effect on AF. I’ll save you the suspense; they were all negative. One even found a signal for more adverse events in the CPAP group. These studies have several positive qualities: They enrolled patients with moderate to severe sleep apnea and high oxygen desaturation indices, adherence averaged more than 4 hours across all groups in all trials, and the methods for assessing the AF outcomes differed slightly. There’s also a lot not to like: The sample sizes were small, only one trial enrolled “sleepy” patients (as assessed by the Epworth Sleepiness Score), and follow-up was short.
To paraphrase Carl Sagan, “absence of evidence does not equal evidence of absence.” As a statistician would say, type II error cannot be excluded by these RCTs. In medicine, however, the burden of proof falls on demonstrating efficacy. If we treat before concluding that a therapy works, we risk wasting time, money, medical resources, and the most precious of patient commodities: the energy required for behavior change. In their response to letters to the editor, the authors of the third RCT summarize the CPAP, AF, and CV disease data far better than I ever could. They sound the same words of caution and come out against screening patients with AF for OSA.
The story for CPAP’s effects on EF is similar though muddier. The American College of Cardiology (ACC)/American Heart Association (AHA) guidelines for heart failure cite a meta-analysis showing that CPAP improves left ventricular EF. In 2019, the American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) CPAP guidelines included a systematic review and meta-analysis that found that CPAP has no effect on left ventricular EF in patients with or without heart failure.
There are a million reasons why two systematic reviews on the same topic might come to different conclusions. In this case, the included studies only partially overlap, and broadly speaking, it appears the authors made trade-offs. The review cited by the ACC/AHA had broader inclusion and significantly more patients and paid for it in heterogeneity (I2 in the 80%-90% range). The AASM analysis achieved 0% heterogeneity but limited inclusion to fewer than 100 patients. Across both, the improvement in EF was 2%- 5% at a minimally clinically important difference of 4%. Hardly convincing.
In summary, the road to negative trials and patient harm has always been paved with observational signal and biologic plausibility. Throw in some intellectual and academic bias, and you’ve created the perfect storm of therapeutic overconfidence.
Dr. Holley is a professor in the department of medicine, Uniformed Services University, Bethesda, Maryland, and a physician at Pulmonary/Sleep and Critical Care Medicine, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He disclosed ties to Metapharm Inc., CHEST College, and WebMD.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com .
A few months ago, I posted a column on continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) with the title, “CPAP Oversells and Underperforms.” To date, it has 299 likes and 90 comments, which are almost all negative. I’m glad to see that it’s generated interest, and I’d like to address some of the themes expressed in the posts.
Most comments were personal testimonies to the miracles of CPAP. These are important, and the point deserves emphasis. CPAP can provide significant improvements in daytime sleepiness and quality of life. I closed the original piece by acknowledging this important fact. Readers can be forgiven for missing it given that the title and text were otherwise disparaging of CPAP.
But several comments warrant a more in-depth discussion. The original piece focuses on CPAP and cardiovascular (CV) outcomes but made no mention of atrial fibrillation (AF) or ejection fraction (EF). The effects of CPAP on each are touted by cardiologists and PAP-pushers alike and are drivers of frequent referrals. It›s my fault for omitting them from the discussion.
AF is easy. The data is identical to all other things CPAP and CV. Based on biologic plausibility alone, the likelihood of a relationship between AF and obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) is similar to the odds that the Celtics raise an 18th banner come June. There’s hypoxia, intrathoracic pressure swings, sympathetic surges, and sleep state disruptions. It’s easy to get from there to arrhythmogenesis. There’s lots of observational noise, too, but no randomized proof that CPAP alters this relationship.
I found four randomized controlled trials (RCTs) that tested CPAP’s effect on AF. I’ll save you the suspense; they were all negative. One even found a signal for more adverse events in the CPAP group. These studies have several positive qualities: They enrolled patients with moderate to severe sleep apnea and high oxygen desaturation indices, adherence averaged more than 4 hours across all groups in all trials, and the methods for assessing the AF outcomes differed slightly. There’s also a lot not to like: The sample sizes were small, only one trial enrolled “sleepy” patients (as assessed by the Epworth Sleepiness Score), and follow-up was short.
To paraphrase Carl Sagan, “absence of evidence does not equal evidence of absence.” As a statistician would say, type II error cannot be excluded by these RCTs. In medicine, however, the burden of proof falls on demonstrating efficacy. If we treat before concluding that a therapy works, we risk wasting time, money, medical resources, and the most precious of patient commodities: the energy required for behavior change. In their response to letters to the editor, the authors of the third RCT summarize the CPAP, AF, and CV disease data far better than I ever could. They sound the same words of caution and come out against screening patients with AF for OSA.
The story for CPAP’s effects on EF is similar though muddier. The American College of Cardiology (ACC)/American Heart Association (AHA) guidelines for heart failure cite a meta-analysis showing that CPAP improves left ventricular EF. In 2019, the American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) CPAP guidelines included a systematic review and meta-analysis that found that CPAP has no effect on left ventricular EF in patients with or without heart failure.
There are a million reasons why two systematic reviews on the same topic might come to different conclusions. In this case, the included studies only partially overlap, and broadly speaking, it appears the authors made trade-offs. The review cited by the ACC/AHA had broader inclusion and significantly more patients and paid for it in heterogeneity (I2 in the 80%-90% range). The AASM analysis achieved 0% heterogeneity but limited inclusion to fewer than 100 patients. Across both, the improvement in EF was 2%- 5% at a minimally clinically important difference of 4%. Hardly convincing.
In summary, the road to negative trials and patient harm has always been paved with observational signal and biologic plausibility. Throw in some intellectual and academic bias, and you’ve created the perfect storm of therapeutic overconfidence.
Dr. Holley is a professor in the department of medicine, Uniformed Services University, Bethesda, Maryland, and a physician at Pulmonary/Sleep and Critical Care Medicine, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington. He disclosed ties to Metapharm Inc., CHEST College, and WebMD.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com .
When Medicine Isn’t the Last Stop
A distant friend and I were recently chatting by email. After years of trying, she’s become a successful author, and decided to leave medicine to focus on the new career.
She’s excited about this, as it’s really what she’s always dreamed of doing, but at the same time feels guilty about it. Leaving medicine for a new career isn’t quite the same as quitting your job as a waitress or insurance salesman. You’ve put a lot of time, and effort, and money, into becoming an attending physician.
I also once dreamed of being a successful writer (amongst other things) but have no complaints about where I landed. I like what I do. Besides, I don’t have her kind of imagination.
It’s a valid point, though. Becoming a doc in practice takes a minimum of 4 years of college and 4 years of medical school. Then you tack on a residency of 3 years (internal medicine) to 7 years (neurosurgery). On top of that many add another 1-2 years for fellowship training. So you’re talking a bare minimum of at least 11 years, ranging up to 17 years.
Then you think of how much money was spent on college and medical school — tuition, living expenses, loan interest, not to mention the emotional toll of the training.
You also have to think that somewhere in there you got a chance to become a doctor while someone else didn’t.
So, I can see why she feels guilty, but she shouldn’t. She’s paid back all her loans, so no one else is left carrying the financial bag. The argument about denying someone else a spot can be kind of flimsy when you don’t know how that person might have turned out (the medical school dropout rate is 15%-18%).
Life is unpredictable. We often don’t really know what we want until we get there, and those journeys are rarely a straight line. That doesn’t mean those years were a waste, they’re just part of the trip — stepping stones to get you to the right place and realize who you really are. They also make these things possible — the experiences add to the background, and give you time and support to make the change.
She joins a group of other physicians who found their calling elsewhere, such as Graham Chapman or Michael Crichton. A nonmedical example is the renowned British astrophysicist, Sir Brian May.
I have no plans to leave medicine for another career. This fall will be 35 years since I started at Creighton Medical School, and I have no regrets. But if others have found something they enjoy more and are successful at, they have nothing to feel guilty about.
Good luck, friend.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
A distant friend and I were recently chatting by email. After years of trying, she’s become a successful author, and decided to leave medicine to focus on the new career.
She’s excited about this, as it’s really what she’s always dreamed of doing, but at the same time feels guilty about it. Leaving medicine for a new career isn’t quite the same as quitting your job as a waitress or insurance salesman. You’ve put a lot of time, and effort, and money, into becoming an attending physician.
I also once dreamed of being a successful writer (amongst other things) but have no complaints about where I landed. I like what I do. Besides, I don’t have her kind of imagination.
It’s a valid point, though. Becoming a doc in practice takes a minimum of 4 years of college and 4 years of medical school. Then you tack on a residency of 3 years (internal medicine) to 7 years (neurosurgery). On top of that many add another 1-2 years for fellowship training. So you’re talking a bare minimum of at least 11 years, ranging up to 17 years.
Then you think of how much money was spent on college and medical school — tuition, living expenses, loan interest, not to mention the emotional toll of the training.
You also have to think that somewhere in there you got a chance to become a doctor while someone else didn’t.
So, I can see why she feels guilty, but she shouldn’t. She’s paid back all her loans, so no one else is left carrying the financial bag. The argument about denying someone else a spot can be kind of flimsy when you don’t know how that person might have turned out (the medical school dropout rate is 15%-18%).
Life is unpredictable. We often don’t really know what we want until we get there, and those journeys are rarely a straight line. That doesn’t mean those years were a waste, they’re just part of the trip — stepping stones to get you to the right place and realize who you really are. They also make these things possible — the experiences add to the background, and give you time and support to make the change.
She joins a group of other physicians who found their calling elsewhere, such as Graham Chapman or Michael Crichton. A nonmedical example is the renowned British astrophysicist, Sir Brian May.
I have no plans to leave medicine for another career. This fall will be 35 years since I started at Creighton Medical School, and I have no regrets. But if others have found something they enjoy more and are successful at, they have nothing to feel guilty about.
Good luck, friend.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
A distant friend and I were recently chatting by email. After years of trying, she’s become a successful author, and decided to leave medicine to focus on the new career.
She’s excited about this, as it’s really what she’s always dreamed of doing, but at the same time feels guilty about it. Leaving medicine for a new career isn’t quite the same as quitting your job as a waitress or insurance salesman. You’ve put a lot of time, and effort, and money, into becoming an attending physician.
I also once dreamed of being a successful writer (amongst other things) but have no complaints about where I landed. I like what I do. Besides, I don’t have her kind of imagination.
It’s a valid point, though. Becoming a doc in practice takes a minimum of 4 years of college and 4 years of medical school. Then you tack on a residency of 3 years (internal medicine) to 7 years (neurosurgery). On top of that many add another 1-2 years for fellowship training. So you’re talking a bare minimum of at least 11 years, ranging up to 17 years.
Then you think of how much money was spent on college and medical school — tuition, living expenses, loan interest, not to mention the emotional toll of the training.
You also have to think that somewhere in there you got a chance to become a doctor while someone else didn’t.
So, I can see why she feels guilty, but she shouldn’t. She’s paid back all her loans, so no one else is left carrying the financial bag. The argument about denying someone else a spot can be kind of flimsy when you don’t know how that person might have turned out (the medical school dropout rate is 15%-18%).
Life is unpredictable. We often don’t really know what we want until we get there, and those journeys are rarely a straight line. That doesn’t mean those years were a waste, they’re just part of the trip — stepping stones to get you to the right place and realize who you really are. They also make these things possible — the experiences add to the background, and give you time and support to make the change.
She joins a group of other physicians who found their calling elsewhere, such as Graham Chapman or Michael Crichton. A nonmedical example is the renowned British astrophysicist, Sir Brian May.
I have no plans to leave medicine for another career. This fall will be 35 years since I started at Creighton Medical School, and I have no regrets. But if others have found something they enjoy more and are successful at, they have nothing to feel guilty about.
Good luck, friend.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Arizona.
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.
It Would Be Nice if Olive Oil Really Did Prevent Dementia
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
As you all know by now, I’m always looking out for lifestyle changes that are both pleasurable and healthy. They are hard to find, especially when it comes to diet. My kids complain about this all the time: “When you say ‘healthy food,’ you just mean yucky food.” And yes, French fries are amazing, and no, we can’t have them three times a day.
So, when I saw an article claiming that olive oil reduces the risk for dementia, I was interested. I love olive oil; I cook with it all the time. But as is always the case in the world of nutritional epidemiology, we need to be careful. There are a lot of reasons to doubt the results of this study — and one reason to believe it’s true.
The study I’m talking about is “Consumption of Olive Oil and Diet Quality and Risk of Dementia-Related Death,” appearing in JAMA Network Open and following a well-trod formula in the nutritional epidemiology space.
Nearly 100,000 participants, all healthcare workers, filled out a food frequency questionnaire every 4 years with 130 questions touching on all aspects of diet: How often do you eat bananas, bacon, olive oil? Participants were followed for more than 20 years, and if they died, the cause of death was flagged as being dementia-related or not. Over that time frame there were around 38,000 deaths, of which 4751 were due to dementia.
The rest is just statistics. The authors show that those who reported consuming more olive oil were less likely to die from dementia — about 50% less likely, if you compare those who reported eating more than 7 grams of olive oil a day with those who reported eating none.
Is It What You Eat, or What You Don’t Eat?
And we could stop there if we wanted to; I’m sure big olive oil would be happy with that. Is there such a thing as “big olive oil”? But no, we need to dig deeper here because this study has the same problems as all nutritional epidemiology studies. Number one, no one is sitting around drinking small cups of olive oil. They consume it with other foods. And it was clear from the food frequency questionnaire that people who consumed more olive oil also consumed less red meat, more fruits and vegetables, more whole grains, more butter, and less margarine. And those are just the findings reported in the paper. I suspect that people who eat more olive oil also eat more tomatoes, for example, though data this granular aren’t shown. So, it can be really hard, in studies like this, to know for sure that it’s actually the olive oil that is helpful rather than some other constituent in the diet.
The flip side of that coin presents another issue. The food you eat is also a marker of the food you don’t eat. People who ate olive oil consumed less margarine, for example. At the time of this study, margarine was still adulterated with trans-fats, which a pretty solid evidence base suggests are really bad for your vascular system. So perhaps it’s not that olive oil is particularly good for you but that something else is bad for you. In other words, simply adding olive oil to your diet without changing anything else may not do anything.
The other major problem with studies of this sort is that people don’t consume food at random. The type of person who eats a lot of olive oil is simply different from the type of person who doesn›t. For one thing, olive oil is expensive. A 25-ounce bottle of olive oil is on sale at my local supermarket right now for $11.00. A similar-sized bottle of vegetable oil goes for $4.00.
Isn’t it interesting that food that costs more money tends to be associated with better health outcomes? (I’m looking at you, red wine.) Perhaps it’s not the food; perhaps it’s the money. We aren’t provided data on household income in this study, but we can see that the heavy olive oil users were less likely to be current smokers and they got more physical activity.
Now, the authors are aware of these limitations and do their best to account for them. In multivariable models, they adjust for other stuff in the diet, and even for income (sort of; they use census tract as a proxy for income, which is really a broad brush), and still find a significant though weakened association showing a protective effect of olive oil on dementia-related death. But still — adjustment is never perfect, and the small effect size here could definitely be due to residual confounding.
Evidence More Convincing
Now, I did tell you that there is one reason to believe that this study is true, but it’s not really from this study.
It’s from the PREDIMED randomized trial.
This is nutritional epidemiology I can get behind. Published in 2018, investigators in Spain randomized around 7500 participants to receive a liter of olive oil once a week vs mixed nuts, vs small nonfood gifts, the idea here being that if you have olive oil around, you’ll use it more. And people who were randomly assigned to get the olive oil had a 30% lower rate of cardiovascular events. A secondary analysis of that study found that the rate of development of mild cognitive impairment was 65% lower in those who were randomly assigned to olive oil. That’s an impressive result.
So, there might be something to this olive oil thing, but I’m not quite ready to add it to my “pleasurable things that are still good for you” list just yet. Though it does make me wonder: Can we make French fries in the stuff?
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
As you all know by now, I’m always looking out for lifestyle changes that are both pleasurable and healthy. They are hard to find, especially when it comes to diet. My kids complain about this all the time: “When you say ‘healthy food,’ you just mean yucky food.” And yes, French fries are amazing, and no, we can’t have them three times a day.
So, when I saw an article claiming that olive oil reduces the risk for dementia, I was interested. I love olive oil; I cook with it all the time. But as is always the case in the world of nutritional epidemiology, we need to be careful. There are a lot of reasons to doubt the results of this study — and one reason to believe it’s true.
The study I’m talking about is “Consumption of Olive Oil and Diet Quality and Risk of Dementia-Related Death,” appearing in JAMA Network Open and following a well-trod formula in the nutritional epidemiology space.
Nearly 100,000 participants, all healthcare workers, filled out a food frequency questionnaire every 4 years with 130 questions touching on all aspects of diet: How often do you eat bananas, bacon, olive oil? Participants were followed for more than 20 years, and if they died, the cause of death was flagged as being dementia-related or not. Over that time frame there were around 38,000 deaths, of which 4751 were due to dementia.
The rest is just statistics. The authors show that those who reported consuming more olive oil were less likely to die from dementia — about 50% less likely, if you compare those who reported eating more than 7 grams of olive oil a day with those who reported eating none.
Is It What You Eat, or What You Don’t Eat?
And we could stop there if we wanted to; I’m sure big olive oil would be happy with that. Is there such a thing as “big olive oil”? But no, we need to dig deeper here because this study has the same problems as all nutritional epidemiology studies. Number one, no one is sitting around drinking small cups of olive oil. They consume it with other foods. And it was clear from the food frequency questionnaire that people who consumed more olive oil also consumed less red meat, more fruits and vegetables, more whole grains, more butter, and less margarine. And those are just the findings reported in the paper. I suspect that people who eat more olive oil also eat more tomatoes, for example, though data this granular aren’t shown. So, it can be really hard, in studies like this, to know for sure that it’s actually the olive oil that is helpful rather than some other constituent in the diet.
The flip side of that coin presents another issue. The food you eat is also a marker of the food you don’t eat. People who ate olive oil consumed less margarine, for example. At the time of this study, margarine was still adulterated with trans-fats, which a pretty solid evidence base suggests are really bad for your vascular system. So perhaps it’s not that olive oil is particularly good for you but that something else is bad for you. In other words, simply adding olive oil to your diet without changing anything else may not do anything.
The other major problem with studies of this sort is that people don’t consume food at random. The type of person who eats a lot of olive oil is simply different from the type of person who doesn›t. For one thing, olive oil is expensive. A 25-ounce bottle of olive oil is on sale at my local supermarket right now for $11.00. A similar-sized bottle of vegetable oil goes for $4.00.
Isn’t it interesting that food that costs more money tends to be associated with better health outcomes? (I’m looking at you, red wine.) Perhaps it’s not the food; perhaps it’s the money. We aren’t provided data on household income in this study, but we can see that the heavy olive oil users were less likely to be current smokers and they got more physical activity.
Now, the authors are aware of these limitations and do their best to account for them. In multivariable models, they adjust for other stuff in the diet, and even for income (sort of; they use census tract as a proxy for income, which is really a broad brush), and still find a significant though weakened association showing a protective effect of olive oil on dementia-related death. But still — adjustment is never perfect, and the small effect size here could definitely be due to residual confounding.
Evidence More Convincing
Now, I did tell you that there is one reason to believe that this study is true, but it’s not really from this study.
It’s from the PREDIMED randomized trial.
This is nutritional epidemiology I can get behind. Published in 2018, investigators in Spain randomized around 7500 participants to receive a liter of olive oil once a week vs mixed nuts, vs small nonfood gifts, the idea here being that if you have olive oil around, you’ll use it more. And people who were randomly assigned to get the olive oil had a 30% lower rate of cardiovascular events. A secondary analysis of that study found that the rate of development of mild cognitive impairment was 65% lower in those who were randomly assigned to olive oil. That’s an impressive result.
So, there might be something to this olive oil thing, but I’m not quite ready to add it to my “pleasurable things that are still good for you” list just yet. Though it does make me wonder: Can we make French fries in the stuff?
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.
This transcript has been edited for clarity.
As you all know by now, I’m always looking out for lifestyle changes that are both pleasurable and healthy. They are hard to find, especially when it comes to diet. My kids complain about this all the time: “When you say ‘healthy food,’ you just mean yucky food.” And yes, French fries are amazing, and no, we can’t have them three times a day.
So, when I saw an article claiming that olive oil reduces the risk for dementia, I was interested. I love olive oil; I cook with it all the time. But as is always the case in the world of nutritional epidemiology, we need to be careful. There are a lot of reasons to doubt the results of this study — and one reason to believe it’s true.
The study I’m talking about is “Consumption of Olive Oil and Diet Quality and Risk of Dementia-Related Death,” appearing in JAMA Network Open and following a well-trod formula in the nutritional epidemiology space.
Nearly 100,000 participants, all healthcare workers, filled out a food frequency questionnaire every 4 years with 130 questions touching on all aspects of diet: How often do you eat bananas, bacon, olive oil? Participants were followed for more than 20 years, and if they died, the cause of death was flagged as being dementia-related or not. Over that time frame there were around 38,000 deaths, of which 4751 were due to dementia.
The rest is just statistics. The authors show that those who reported consuming more olive oil were less likely to die from dementia — about 50% less likely, if you compare those who reported eating more than 7 grams of olive oil a day with those who reported eating none.
Is It What You Eat, or What You Don’t Eat?
And we could stop there if we wanted to; I’m sure big olive oil would be happy with that. Is there such a thing as “big olive oil”? But no, we need to dig deeper here because this study has the same problems as all nutritional epidemiology studies. Number one, no one is sitting around drinking small cups of olive oil. They consume it with other foods. And it was clear from the food frequency questionnaire that people who consumed more olive oil also consumed less red meat, more fruits and vegetables, more whole grains, more butter, and less margarine. And those are just the findings reported in the paper. I suspect that people who eat more olive oil also eat more tomatoes, for example, though data this granular aren’t shown. So, it can be really hard, in studies like this, to know for sure that it’s actually the olive oil that is helpful rather than some other constituent in the diet.
The flip side of that coin presents another issue. The food you eat is also a marker of the food you don’t eat. People who ate olive oil consumed less margarine, for example. At the time of this study, margarine was still adulterated with trans-fats, which a pretty solid evidence base suggests are really bad for your vascular system. So perhaps it’s not that olive oil is particularly good for you but that something else is bad for you. In other words, simply adding olive oil to your diet without changing anything else may not do anything.
The other major problem with studies of this sort is that people don’t consume food at random. The type of person who eats a lot of olive oil is simply different from the type of person who doesn›t. For one thing, olive oil is expensive. A 25-ounce bottle of olive oil is on sale at my local supermarket right now for $11.00. A similar-sized bottle of vegetable oil goes for $4.00.
Isn’t it interesting that food that costs more money tends to be associated with better health outcomes? (I’m looking at you, red wine.) Perhaps it’s not the food; perhaps it’s the money. We aren’t provided data on household income in this study, but we can see that the heavy olive oil users were less likely to be current smokers and they got more physical activity.
Now, the authors are aware of these limitations and do their best to account for them. In multivariable models, they adjust for other stuff in the diet, and even for income (sort of; they use census tract as a proxy for income, which is really a broad brush), and still find a significant though weakened association showing a protective effect of olive oil on dementia-related death. But still — adjustment is never perfect, and the small effect size here could definitely be due to residual confounding.
Evidence More Convincing
Now, I did tell you that there is one reason to believe that this study is true, but it’s not really from this study.
It’s from the PREDIMED randomized trial.
This is nutritional epidemiology I can get behind. Published in 2018, investigators in Spain randomized around 7500 participants to receive a liter of olive oil once a week vs mixed nuts, vs small nonfood gifts, the idea here being that if you have olive oil around, you’ll use it more. And people who were randomly assigned to get the olive oil had a 30% lower rate of cardiovascular events. A secondary analysis of that study found that the rate of development of mild cognitive impairment was 65% lower in those who were randomly assigned to olive oil. That’s an impressive result.
So, there might be something to this olive oil thing, but I’m not quite ready to add it to my “pleasurable things that are still good for you” list just yet. Though it does make me wonder: Can we make French fries in the stuff?
Dr. Wilson is associate professor of medicine and public health and director of the Clinical and Translational Research Accelerator at Yale University, New Haven, Conn. He has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article appeared on Medscape.com.