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Pediatric hospitalists venture into COVID-19 adult care
The memories I have from the few nights spent in the adult pop-up cardiac intensive care unit are pouring in as I sit down to tell this story. I am a pediatric hospitalist at Columbia University NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital. I usually take care of sick, hospitalized children. However, in these extraordinary times, I have joined an army of colleagues taking care of adult patients with COVID-19.
Almost all these patients had tracheostomies connected to ventilators, as well as acute-on-chronic cardiac issues. They were often delirious and unable to speak, and always alone. I was happy to help our adult colleagues, but I was also afraid. I was scared to make a mistake that could be detrimental to my patient, even though I knew well that ICU residents, fellows, and attendings were just a phone call away.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, initially too small compared with her environment, and the next minute hunched, giant, and still clearly displaced. Except I was not dreaming or watching a movie. There was no white rabbit to chase. The situation was serious and emotionally challenging. I imagined that each patient was the dearest member of my family: my mother, my father, my aunt or uncle. I took pleasure in sharing smiles while asking the patients how they were feeling, and I touched their hands, even though much of my face was covered and there were gloves on my hands.
The year 2020 has been surreal. People have had to find their own way of pushing through the unknown and unexpected. For a start, I would never in a million years have imagined using phrases like pop-up ICU.1 I was signing an admission note for a 90-year-old lady with acute-on-chronic congestive heart failure and acute respiratory hypoxemic failure and there, at the bottom of the note, was my name, followed by an odd remark: “pediatric hospital medicine.” That is what happened in New York City in 2020: Many unexpected events took place.
This article represents a virtual conversation with three other pediatric hospitalists who, under different sets of circumstances, did the same thing: took care of adult patients. I hope that the answers to the questions I asked make you pause, reflect, and learn from the experiences described.
Would you describe the usual environment where you practice pediatric hospital medicine?
Julie Dunbar, MD: I am a full-time pediatric hospitalist at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, a tertiary care academic children’s hospital in the Bronx. A typical day on service involves staffing up to 14 patients, up to 21 years old, on a teaching service with residents and physician assistants. We normally staff the hospital in two shifts – day and evening – until 11:00 at night. We are situated at the heart of a medically underserved area, and our hospital system cares for about one-third of the total population of the Bronx.
L. Nell Hodo, MD: I work at Kravis Children’s Hospital at the Mount Sinai Hospital, in Manhattan at the juncture of the Upper East Side and Harlem. Our usual hospital medicine environment is the general ward/floor in a nested children’s hospital within an adult hospital. We have about 32 non-ICU beds, and the patients are managed by a combination of hospitalists, general pediatricians, and specialist attendings. All patients are on resident teams. We have a comanagement model in which the primary attending for surgical patients is always a pediatric attending (hospitalist or specialist).
Avital M. Fischer, MD: NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is a quaternary care center – where children from the area receive subspecialty care – as well as, functionally, a community hospital for the Washington Heights area. Therefore, we always have an interesting mix of general pediatric inpatient medicine including patients with complex medical conditions, rare diseases, postoperative conditions, and undiagnosed illnesses on our wards. We are a children’s hospital, connected to a larger adult hospital system. Pediatric hospitalists cover two pediatric wards, team-staffed by residents, and a progressive care unit, staffed by nurse practitioners. There is usually evening coverage until 11 p.m.
How did this change when New York became the U.S. epicenter of the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic? Was the transition to taking care of adult patients gradual or sudden? Were you deployed to a different hospital or part of the hospital? How prepared did you feel?
Dr. Dunbar: We experienced the COVID-19 pandemic like much of the rest of New York City – it started as a slow and uncertain process, and then it hit us all at once. In initial conversations, like everyone else, we did not know exactly what was coming. We started with small changes like working from home on nonclinical days and canceling family-centered rounds to conserve personal protective equipment (PPE). In mid-March, we were still expecting that redeployment to adult floors was a highly unlikely scenario. We made work-from-home schedules and planned projects we would work on while social distancing. We planned journal clubs about emerging evidence on COVID-19. However, things happened fast, and many of these plans were scrapped.
On Saturday, March 28, we closed the main floor of the children’s hospital because so few pediatric patients were being admitted. Two days later, we admitted our first cohort of adult COVID-19 patients, all more than 30 years old. They were transferred en masse from an outside hospital emergency department that desperately needed our beds. They arrived all at once, and they all required respiratory support. At the last hospitalist division meeting before the adults arrived, we had time for only one priority set of information, and so we chose end-of-life care. We reviewed scripts for advance care planning and logistics of death certificates. As fast as things changed for us, they changed even faster for the patients. Most were relatively healthy people who rather suddenly found themselves isolated, on oxygen, dictating their final wishes to pediatricians in full protective gear. Many, many patients got better, and of course, several spent their last moments with us. One physician assistant, who works closely with the hospitalists, spent the last 5 hours of an elderly patient’s life holding her hand and helping her FaceTime with family.
For the most part, the patients came to us. We worked with our own colleagues and our own nurses, on our own territory. A few of my colleagues were briefly redeployed to a series of conference rooms that were used for several weeks as overflow space for more stable COVID-19 patients. Staffing by the pediatrics teams was so robust, with willing volunteers from every corner of the children’s hospital, that we were not needed for long.
During the early days, there was no clinical pathway to follow to care for COVID-19 patients – it didn’t exist for this novel and variable disease. We created a platform to share documents and resources in real time as they became available to us. We used group texts and emails to learn from our experiences and encourage one another. Importantly, no one was afraid to ask for help, and we relied on our adult colleagues when patients started to decompensate. Adult critical care came to our aid for all rapid responses for patients older than 30. Pediatric critical care, in their infinite flexibility, was responsible for anyone younger.
Dr. Hodo: We had a variety of changes. The first thing was the deployment of many of our attendings (hospital medicine, ICU, outpatient, and subspecialists) and residents to the adult side to work on medical COVID-19 units or in the many ICUs (some new “pop-up” units in former medical units, postanesthesia care units, and so on).2 On the adult floor we had “COVID teams,” which had an attending and two frontline providers; one of these three people was an internal medicine faculty member or resident. Residents from other specialties (emergency medicine, family medicine) were pulled off pediatric assignments in pediatric wards, PICUs, and EDs, so pediatric residents not originally assigned to inpatient rotations were sent to cover these core pediatric areas. The remaining pediatric faculty backfilled the pediatric services – so the remaining ICU docs did more shifts to cover ICU; the undeployed specialists took more inpatient service or clinic time, and so on. Outpatient pediatrics covered the inpatient pediatric service for the 3 weeks when most of the hospitalists were deployed.
We had one pediatric unit, which was a unit with equipment that made it capable of having ICU patients or floor patients, that was designated a COVID-19 unit. Most COVID-19 patients were there. Some were also in negative-pressure rooms on other floors or in the unit directly above the COVID-19 unit. Some adult patients came to the unit in the pediatric hospital but not as many as initially expected, and most were young adults in their 20s. So rather than adult patients coming to pediatrics, our experience was more that pediatricians went to the adult side.
The transition to adult care for physicians was variable in its suddenness. Most people had at least 48 hours’ notice, whereas some had as much as a week. Most of our department members deployed within the hospital complex of which we are a part, though a few went to other sites in the health system. Some were deployed into administrative or support roles in the system, rather than patient-facing roles. I felt, I would say, reasonably prepared. I trained in family medicine, though I have been exclusively in pediatrics for the past 7 years. I felt rusty, for sure, but perhaps not quite as out of my element as others. In preparation, I read a lot about COVID, reviewed some adult medicine topics provided by the medicine department, used the resources on the Pediatric Overflow Planning Contingency Response Network (POPCoRN), including an Advanced Cardiac Life Support review, and was able to shadow on a COVID-19 unit before I actually started – that was incredibly helpful. I also had the opportunity to speak about that shadowing experience in a department meeting, which I hope was helpful for others.
Dr. Fischer: Our whole focus for a relatively short time shifted to how to take care of adults within the children’s hospital. Although we had some time to prepare – the ICU was the first unit to take adults, so we knew they would come to the floor – it still felt quick. We took adult patients onto the general pediatrics floor from both the emergency department and the ICU. We took adults mostly with COVID-19, but we did have some young adults admitted for other reasons too. Those of us who were on service during this time collaborated closely, sharing what we learned and even joining one another on rounds to provide support. We basically would “teach it forward” as we learned. We also had adult providers available by phone for questions, and our pediatric subspecialists were readily available for consults and would reach out to their adult counterparts for support. Some of the hospitalists were reaching out to POPCoRN, and some were attending an ACLS crash course prior to getting on service.
What was hardest about this experience for you?
Dr. Dunbar: For me, one of the hardest aspects of dealing with COVID-19 was the unknown. In every aspect of professional life and clinical care, there were unanswered questions. What’s the best way to care for these patients? What prognoses can we give their loved ones? How can I help when it seems like there’s so little I can offer? Will we run out of PPE? As doctors, what behaviors most endanger our friends and family when we go home after work? When will things start to get better?
Dr. Hodo: For me, the week or two before being notified of the deployment was the worst and hardest time. The uncertainty about if I would be called or no, and to do what? And where? I was trying to read everything there was on management, what little was known about treatment, and so on. Once I received notification of a start date, that allowed me to focus on very clear endpoints and knowledge items (for example, reviewing ACLS algorithms) and to do things I knew would help me settle and be more effective (like shadowing).
Dr. Fischer: It was a lot of new. Not only were we taking care of a population that we hadn’t cared for since medical school (adults), but we were facing a disease process that was also new to everyone. We were learning on our feet, while at the same time providing guidance to our house staff.
What have you learned about yourself that you did not know before?
Dr. Dunbar: I was surprised to learn how much I liked caring for adult patients. The fear I felt immediately before they arrived dissipated fairly quickly after they arrived. The opportunity to address their chronic conditions while supporting them in an acute illness took me back to many of the fundamentals of medicine that I hadn’t thought much about since medical school. I liked that they could speak up to tell us how they were feeling, both physically and emotionally, so that we could address their needs and allow them to participate in their own care. Some of my favorite patients kept detailed histories of their own C-reactive protein values and oxygen levels to show they were active participants in their own recovery.
I was worried that these adult patients would be offended or scared to learn that they were being cared for by pediatricians, but at no point did anyone ask me why they were not assigned to an adult hospitalist. They saw us only as doctors and nurses, and they were grateful for our care. One 65-year-old U.S. Army veteran told me that his nurse had told him to take a shower and make his bed. “She treated me just like a 5-year-old kid. And I loved it!” he said.
Dr. Hodo: I don’t know that I was totally unaware of these things, but I will say that I had partially forgotten them: I really like adult medicine, and I love geriatrics. I like high-energy and high-stress situations … at least occasionally! I feel very comfortable discussing end-of-life decisions and death. I cope with personal stress by helping and supporting others – patients, team members, colleagues, neighbors. I risk not taking enough time for myself and have to remind myself to do so.
Dr. Fischer: I actually loved taking care of adults. It felt like there was a different kind of patient-doctor relationship to be had, and it was interesting to get to know people who had jobs and families of their own – essentially a different type of story than you typically hear taking care of children.
Were there any silver linings in this situation? How did you grow personally through this experience? What do we need to do better going forward as a profession and a community?
Dr. Dunbar: The part that I hope will stay with me is the memory of how we came together as clinicians to fight a common invisible enemy. The teamwork was unprecedented. Our day-to-day goals were simple and straightforward: do what needed to be done to help as many New Yorkers as possible. Our team made themselves available for last-minute meetings and shift changes without complaint. We practiced a type of medicine that prioritized patient comfort, flexibility, and compassionate care. We ordered methadone and insulin and antihypertensives – brand new experiences for us, but we figured it out. We worked through novel clinical problems together because there was no textbook to read.
Our colleagues from other specialties and different levels of experience stepped up to join us on overnight shifts, and we welcomed them. With the help of an ad hoc palliative care team, we improved how we listened to patients’ own self-directed needs. We reached across the aisle to our internal medicine and adult hospitalist colleagues to refresh our memories on chronic conditions, and they always answered the phone. I hope we always remember who we were during this crisis, because we were ourselves at our most generous.
Dr. Hodo: This was an unexpected but great opportunity to meet physicians, nurses, and staff in different departments and sections of the hospital from my own. I am hopeful that this experience will help us in the future with multidisciplinary work and breaking down silos that isolate specialties and units in the hospital.
I feel (and this is probably weird) invigorated by this experience. It feels good to have been able to help when I was needed. Even though there are a lot of things in adult hospital medicine I do not know, I know I did my best, asked for help when I needed it, and asked for feedback regularly from the medicine residents and nurses I worked with. I know I supported my team and my colleagues to the best of my ability through stressful and sometimes upsetting and emotionally draining times.
As a profession, we can continue to remember the value of the multidisciplinary team and the value of listening to, and making space for, different voices to be heard. We can reconsider the traditional, rigid hierarchy in medicine and medical education that can stifle creative thought and innovative ideas. We can remember that the people “at the top” of the pyramid can always learn something from those “at the bottom.” We can see the ways that department and discipline and specialty can help us but also sometimes hinder, and seek involvement in programs and discussions that unite and pool resources and skills. And, most of all, we can try, every day we are at work, to put the patients’ and families’ needs first – and when we leave work, to turn that around, and put ourselves and our loved ones in that prime position.
As a community, we also can work on thinking communally – that, after all, is the entire point of the wearing of masks in public and social distancing. It is as much about you as about me! We can try to hold on to some of this perspective of the greater good and appreciation for the work others do that makes our lives better and easier. It is not only health care workers who deserve a round of applause every day; it is every person who did something today that benefited someone else, be that giving extra space in a line, wearing a mask in a store, delivering food to an elder, teaching a class over Zoom, or simply minimizing time outside the house. It is every person who thought about the community at or near the same level of priority that they thought about themselves.
Dr. Fischer: It was a very challenging situation, but because our adult patients in the children’s hospital were relatively young with fewer comorbidities, we got to see people get well. I took care of one man with renal failure who we thought would be on dialysis for the rest of his life. By the end of my first week on service, he had begun to regain kidney function. It was amazing. I think most frontline providers caring for adults in this pandemic have had to face significant morbidity and mortality. I felt lucky that we were able to care for patients who generally got better.
I recently read the article published in the Journal of Pediatrics laying out how the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore adapted an entire pediatric floor to caring for adults.3 This example of recognition of need, quick preparation, and collaboration both within the children’s hospital and with the adult hospital was admirable. I also feel that at the beginning of this pandemic, there was a glimmer that the failure of our health care system to cover everyone and the repercussions of this failure would be drawn into sharp relief. I hope that this understanding of the importance of universal coverage persists beyond the pandemic.
Dr. Giordano is assistant professor of pediatrics at Columbia University and a pediatric hospitalist at NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital with an interest in surgical comanagement. She serves on the Society of Hospital Medicine’s Pediatric Special Interest Group Executive Committee and is the chair of the Education Subcommittee. She is also an advisory board member for the New York/Westchester SHM Chapter.
References
1. Kumaraiah D et al. Innovative ICU physician care models: Covid-19 pandemic at NewYork-Presbyterian. NEJM Catal. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0158.
2. Kim MK et al. A primer for clinician deployment to the medicine floors from an epicenter of Covid-19. NEJM Catal. 2020 May 4. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0180.
3. Philips K, et al. Rapid Implementation of an Adult COVID-19 Unit in a Children’s Hospital. J Pediatr. 2020. doi: 10.1016/j.jpeds.2020.04.060.
Pediatric hospitalists venture into COVID-19 adult care
Pediatric hospitalists venture into COVID-19 adult care
The memories I have from the few nights spent in the adult pop-up cardiac intensive care unit are pouring in as I sit down to tell this story. I am a pediatric hospitalist at Columbia University NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital. I usually take care of sick, hospitalized children. However, in these extraordinary times, I have joined an army of colleagues taking care of adult patients with COVID-19.
Almost all these patients had tracheostomies connected to ventilators, as well as acute-on-chronic cardiac issues. They were often delirious and unable to speak, and always alone. I was happy to help our adult colleagues, but I was also afraid. I was scared to make a mistake that could be detrimental to my patient, even though I knew well that ICU residents, fellows, and attendings were just a phone call away.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, initially too small compared with her environment, and the next minute hunched, giant, and still clearly displaced. Except I was not dreaming or watching a movie. There was no white rabbit to chase. The situation was serious and emotionally challenging. I imagined that each patient was the dearest member of my family: my mother, my father, my aunt or uncle. I took pleasure in sharing smiles while asking the patients how they were feeling, and I touched their hands, even though much of my face was covered and there were gloves on my hands.
The year 2020 has been surreal. People have had to find their own way of pushing through the unknown and unexpected. For a start, I would never in a million years have imagined using phrases like pop-up ICU.1 I was signing an admission note for a 90-year-old lady with acute-on-chronic congestive heart failure and acute respiratory hypoxemic failure and there, at the bottom of the note, was my name, followed by an odd remark: “pediatric hospital medicine.” That is what happened in New York City in 2020: Many unexpected events took place.
This article represents a virtual conversation with three other pediatric hospitalists who, under different sets of circumstances, did the same thing: took care of adult patients. I hope that the answers to the questions I asked make you pause, reflect, and learn from the experiences described.
Would you describe the usual environment where you practice pediatric hospital medicine?
Julie Dunbar, MD: I am a full-time pediatric hospitalist at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, a tertiary care academic children’s hospital in the Bronx. A typical day on service involves staffing up to 14 patients, up to 21 years old, on a teaching service with residents and physician assistants. We normally staff the hospital in two shifts – day and evening – until 11:00 at night. We are situated at the heart of a medically underserved area, and our hospital system cares for about one-third of the total population of the Bronx.
L. Nell Hodo, MD: I work at Kravis Children’s Hospital at the Mount Sinai Hospital, in Manhattan at the juncture of the Upper East Side and Harlem. Our usual hospital medicine environment is the general ward/floor in a nested children’s hospital within an adult hospital. We have about 32 non-ICU beds, and the patients are managed by a combination of hospitalists, general pediatricians, and specialist attendings. All patients are on resident teams. We have a comanagement model in which the primary attending for surgical patients is always a pediatric attending (hospitalist or specialist).
Avital M. Fischer, MD: NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is a quaternary care center – where children from the area receive subspecialty care – as well as, functionally, a community hospital for the Washington Heights area. Therefore, we always have an interesting mix of general pediatric inpatient medicine including patients with complex medical conditions, rare diseases, postoperative conditions, and undiagnosed illnesses on our wards. We are a children’s hospital, connected to a larger adult hospital system. Pediatric hospitalists cover two pediatric wards, team-staffed by residents, and a progressive care unit, staffed by nurse practitioners. There is usually evening coverage until 11 p.m.
How did this change when New York became the U.S. epicenter of the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic? Was the transition to taking care of adult patients gradual or sudden? Were you deployed to a different hospital or part of the hospital? How prepared did you feel?
Dr. Dunbar: We experienced the COVID-19 pandemic like much of the rest of New York City – it started as a slow and uncertain process, and then it hit us all at once. In initial conversations, like everyone else, we did not know exactly what was coming. We started with small changes like working from home on nonclinical days and canceling family-centered rounds to conserve personal protective equipment (PPE). In mid-March, we were still expecting that redeployment to adult floors was a highly unlikely scenario. We made work-from-home schedules and planned projects we would work on while social distancing. We planned journal clubs about emerging evidence on COVID-19. However, things happened fast, and many of these plans were scrapped.
On Saturday, March 28, we closed the main floor of the children’s hospital because so few pediatric patients were being admitted. Two days later, we admitted our first cohort of adult COVID-19 patients, all more than 30 years old. They were transferred en masse from an outside hospital emergency department that desperately needed our beds. They arrived all at once, and they all required respiratory support. At the last hospitalist division meeting before the adults arrived, we had time for only one priority set of information, and so we chose end-of-life care. We reviewed scripts for advance care planning and logistics of death certificates. As fast as things changed for us, they changed even faster for the patients. Most were relatively healthy people who rather suddenly found themselves isolated, on oxygen, dictating their final wishes to pediatricians in full protective gear. Many, many patients got better, and of course, several spent their last moments with us. One physician assistant, who works closely with the hospitalists, spent the last 5 hours of an elderly patient’s life holding her hand and helping her FaceTime with family.
For the most part, the patients came to us. We worked with our own colleagues and our own nurses, on our own territory. A few of my colleagues were briefly redeployed to a series of conference rooms that were used for several weeks as overflow space for more stable COVID-19 patients. Staffing by the pediatrics teams was so robust, with willing volunteers from every corner of the children’s hospital, that we were not needed for long.
During the early days, there was no clinical pathway to follow to care for COVID-19 patients – it didn’t exist for this novel and variable disease. We created a platform to share documents and resources in real time as they became available to us. We used group texts and emails to learn from our experiences and encourage one another. Importantly, no one was afraid to ask for help, and we relied on our adult colleagues when patients started to decompensate. Adult critical care came to our aid for all rapid responses for patients older than 30. Pediatric critical care, in their infinite flexibility, was responsible for anyone younger.
Dr. Hodo: We had a variety of changes. The first thing was the deployment of many of our attendings (hospital medicine, ICU, outpatient, and subspecialists) and residents to the adult side to work on medical COVID-19 units or in the many ICUs (some new “pop-up” units in former medical units, postanesthesia care units, and so on).2 On the adult floor we had “COVID teams,” which had an attending and two frontline providers; one of these three people was an internal medicine faculty member or resident. Residents from other specialties (emergency medicine, family medicine) were pulled off pediatric assignments in pediatric wards, PICUs, and EDs, so pediatric residents not originally assigned to inpatient rotations were sent to cover these core pediatric areas. The remaining pediatric faculty backfilled the pediatric services – so the remaining ICU docs did more shifts to cover ICU; the undeployed specialists took more inpatient service or clinic time, and so on. Outpatient pediatrics covered the inpatient pediatric service for the 3 weeks when most of the hospitalists were deployed.
We had one pediatric unit, which was a unit with equipment that made it capable of having ICU patients or floor patients, that was designated a COVID-19 unit. Most COVID-19 patients were there. Some were also in negative-pressure rooms on other floors or in the unit directly above the COVID-19 unit. Some adult patients came to the unit in the pediatric hospital but not as many as initially expected, and most were young adults in their 20s. So rather than adult patients coming to pediatrics, our experience was more that pediatricians went to the adult side.
The transition to adult care for physicians was variable in its suddenness. Most people had at least 48 hours’ notice, whereas some had as much as a week. Most of our department members deployed within the hospital complex of which we are a part, though a few went to other sites in the health system. Some were deployed into administrative or support roles in the system, rather than patient-facing roles. I felt, I would say, reasonably prepared. I trained in family medicine, though I have been exclusively in pediatrics for the past 7 years. I felt rusty, for sure, but perhaps not quite as out of my element as others. In preparation, I read a lot about COVID, reviewed some adult medicine topics provided by the medicine department, used the resources on the Pediatric Overflow Planning Contingency Response Network (POPCoRN), including an Advanced Cardiac Life Support review, and was able to shadow on a COVID-19 unit before I actually started – that was incredibly helpful. I also had the opportunity to speak about that shadowing experience in a department meeting, which I hope was helpful for others.
Dr. Fischer: Our whole focus for a relatively short time shifted to how to take care of adults within the children’s hospital. Although we had some time to prepare – the ICU was the first unit to take adults, so we knew they would come to the floor – it still felt quick. We took adult patients onto the general pediatrics floor from both the emergency department and the ICU. We took adults mostly with COVID-19, but we did have some young adults admitted for other reasons too. Those of us who were on service during this time collaborated closely, sharing what we learned and even joining one another on rounds to provide support. We basically would “teach it forward” as we learned. We also had adult providers available by phone for questions, and our pediatric subspecialists were readily available for consults and would reach out to their adult counterparts for support. Some of the hospitalists were reaching out to POPCoRN, and some were attending an ACLS crash course prior to getting on service.
What was hardest about this experience for you?
Dr. Dunbar: For me, one of the hardest aspects of dealing with COVID-19 was the unknown. In every aspect of professional life and clinical care, there were unanswered questions. What’s the best way to care for these patients? What prognoses can we give their loved ones? How can I help when it seems like there’s so little I can offer? Will we run out of PPE? As doctors, what behaviors most endanger our friends and family when we go home after work? When will things start to get better?
Dr. Hodo: For me, the week or two before being notified of the deployment was the worst and hardest time. The uncertainty about if I would be called or no, and to do what? And where? I was trying to read everything there was on management, what little was known about treatment, and so on. Once I received notification of a start date, that allowed me to focus on very clear endpoints and knowledge items (for example, reviewing ACLS algorithms) and to do things I knew would help me settle and be more effective (like shadowing).
Dr. Fischer: It was a lot of new. Not only were we taking care of a population that we hadn’t cared for since medical school (adults), but we were facing a disease process that was also new to everyone. We were learning on our feet, while at the same time providing guidance to our house staff.
What have you learned about yourself that you did not know before?
Dr. Dunbar: I was surprised to learn how much I liked caring for adult patients. The fear I felt immediately before they arrived dissipated fairly quickly after they arrived. The opportunity to address their chronic conditions while supporting them in an acute illness took me back to many of the fundamentals of medicine that I hadn’t thought much about since medical school. I liked that they could speak up to tell us how they were feeling, both physically and emotionally, so that we could address their needs and allow them to participate in their own care. Some of my favorite patients kept detailed histories of their own C-reactive protein values and oxygen levels to show they were active participants in their own recovery.
I was worried that these adult patients would be offended or scared to learn that they were being cared for by pediatricians, but at no point did anyone ask me why they were not assigned to an adult hospitalist. They saw us only as doctors and nurses, and they were grateful for our care. One 65-year-old U.S. Army veteran told me that his nurse had told him to take a shower and make his bed. “She treated me just like a 5-year-old kid. And I loved it!” he said.
Dr. Hodo: I don’t know that I was totally unaware of these things, but I will say that I had partially forgotten them: I really like adult medicine, and I love geriatrics. I like high-energy and high-stress situations … at least occasionally! I feel very comfortable discussing end-of-life decisions and death. I cope with personal stress by helping and supporting others – patients, team members, colleagues, neighbors. I risk not taking enough time for myself and have to remind myself to do so.
Dr. Fischer: I actually loved taking care of adults. It felt like there was a different kind of patient-doctor relationship to be had, and it was interesting to get to know people who had jobs and families of their own – essentially a different type of story than you typically hear taking care of children.
Were there any silver linings in this situation? How did you grow personally through this experience? What do we need to do better going forward as a profession and a community?
Dr. Dunbar: The part that I hope will stay with me is the memory of how we came together as clinicians to fight a common invisible enemy. The teamwork was unprecedented. Our day-to-day goals were simple and straightforward: do what needed to be done to help as many New Yorkers as possible. Our team made themselves available for last-minute meetings and shift changes without complaint. We practiced a type of medicine that prioritized patient comfort, flexibility, and compassionate care. We ordered methadone and insulin and antihypertensives – brand new experiences for us, but we figured it out. We worked through novel clinical problems together because there was no textbook to read.
Our colleagues from other specialties and different levels of experience stepped up to join us on overnight shifts, and we welcomed them. With the help of an ad hoc palliative care team, we improved how we listened to patients’ own self-directed needs. We reached across the aisle to our internal medicine and adult hospitalist colleagues to refresh our memories on chronic conditions, and they always answered the phone. I hope we always remember who we were during this crisis, because we were ourselves at our most generous.
Dr. Hodo: This was an unexpected but great opportunity to meet physicians, nurses, and staff in different departments and sections of the hospital from my own. I am hopeful that this experience will help us in the future with multidisciplinary work and breaking down silos that isolate specialties and units in the hospital.
I feel (and this is probably weird) invigorated by this experience. It feels good to have been able to help when I was needed. Even though there are a lot of things in adult hospital medicine I do not know, I know I did my best, asked for help when I needed it, and asked for feedback regularly from the medicine residents and nurses I worked with. I know I supported my team and my colleagues to the best of my ability through stressful and sometimes upsetting and emotionally draining times.
As a profession, we can continue to remember the value of the multidisciplinary team and the value of listening to, and making space for, different voices to be heard. We can reconsider the traditional, rigid hierarchy in medicine and medical education that can stifle creative thought and innovative ideas. We can remember that the people “at the top” of the pyramid can always learn something from those “at the bottom.” We can see the ways that department and discipline and specialty can help us but also sometimes hinder, and seek involvement in programs and discussions that unite and pool resources and skills. And, most of all, we can try, every day we are at work, to put the patients’ and families’ needs first – and when we leave work, to turn that around, and put ourselves and our loved ones in that prime position.
As a community, we also can work on thinking communally – that, after all, is the entire point of the wearing of masks in public and social distancing. It is as much about you as about me! We can try to hold on to some of this perspective of the greater good and appreciation for the work others do that makes our lives better and easier. It is not only health care workers who deserve a round of applause every day; it is every person who did something today that benefited someone else, be that giving extra space in a line, wearing a mask in a store, delivering food to an elder, teaching a class over Zoom, or simply minimizing time outside the house. It is every person who thought about the community at or near the same level of priority that they thought about themselves.
Dr. Fischer: It was a very challenging situation, but because our adult patients in the children’s hospital were relatively young with fewer comorbidities, we got to see people get well. I took care of one man with renal failure who we thought would be on dialysis for the rest of his life. By the end of my first week on service, he had begun to regain kidney function. It was amazing. I think most frontline providers caring for adults in this pandemic have had to face significant morbidity and mortality. I felt lucky that we were able to care for patients who generally got better.
I recently read the article published in the Journal of Pediatrics laying out how the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore adapted an entire pediatric floor to caring for adults.3 This example of recognition of need, quick preparation, and collaboration both within the children’s hospital and with the adult hospital was admirable. I also feel that at the beginning of this pandemic, there was a glimmer that the failure of our health care system to cover everyone and the repercussions of this failure would be drawn into sharp relief. I hope that this understanding of the importance of universal coverage persists beyond the pandemic.
Dr. Giordano is assistant professor of pediatrics at Columbia University and a pediatric hospitalist at NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital with an interest in surgical comanagement. She serves on the Society of Hospital Medicine’s Pediatric Special Interest Group Executive Committee and is the chair of the Education Subcommittee. She is also an advisory board member for the New York/Westchester SHM Chapter.
References
1. Kumaraiah D et al. Innovative ICU physician care models: Covid-19 pandemic at NewYork-Presbyterian. NEJM Catal. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0158.
2. Kim MK et al. A primer for clinician deployment to the medicine floors from an epicenter of Covid-19. NEJM Catal. 2020 May 4. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0180.
3. Philips K, et al. Rapid Implementation of an Adult COVID-19 Unit in a Children’s Hospital. J Pediatr. 2020. doi: 10.1016/j.jpeds.2020.04.060.
The memories I have from the few nights spent in the adult pop-up cardiac intensive care unit are pouring in as I sit down to tell this story. I am a pediatric hospitalist at Columbia University NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital. I usually take care of sick, hospitalized children. However, in these extraordinary times, I have joined an army of colleagues taking care of adult patients with COVID-19.
Almost all these patients had tracheostomies connected to ventilators, as well as acute-on-chronic cardiac issues. They were often delirious and unable to speak, and always alone. I was happy to help our adult colleagues, but I was also afraid. I was scared to make a mistake that could be detrimental to my patient, even though I knew well that ICU residents, fellows, and attendings were just a phone call away.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, initially too small compared with her environment, and the next minute hunched, giant, and still clearly displaced. Except I was not dreaming or watching a movie. There was no white rabbit to chase. The situation was serious and emotionally challenging. I imagined that each patient was the dearest member of my family: my mother, my father, my aunt or uncle. I took pleasure in sharing smiles while asking the patients how they were feeling, and I touched their hands, even though much of my face was covered and there were gloves on my hands.
The year 2020 has been surreal. People have had to find their own way of pushing through the unknown and unexpected. For a start, I would never in a million years have imagined using phrases like pop-up ICU.1 I was signing an admission note for a 90-year-old lady with acute-on-chronic congestive heart failure and acute respiratory hypoxemic failure and there, at the bottom of the note, was my name, followed by an odd remark: “pediatric hospital medicine.” That is what happened in New York City in 2020: Many unexpected events took place.
This article represents a virtual conversation with three other pediatric hospitalists who, under different sets of circumstances, did the same thing: took care of adult patients. I hope that the answers to the questions I asked make you pause, reflect, and learn from the experiences described.
Would you describe the usual environment where you practice pediatric hospital medicine?
Julie Dunbar, MD: I am a full-time pediatric hospitalist at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, a tertiary care academic children’s hospital in the Bronx. A typical day on service involves staffing up to 14 patients, up to 21 years old, on a teaching service with residents and physician assistants. We normally staff the hospital in two shifts – day and evening – until 11:00 at night. We are situated at the heart of a medically underserved area, and our hospital system cares for about one-third of the total population of the Bronx.
L. Nell Hodo, MD: I work at Kravis Children’s Hospital at the Mount Sinai Hospital, in Manhattan at the juncture of the Upper East Side and Harlem. Our usual hospital medicine environment is the general ward/floor in a nested children’s hospital within an adult hospital. We have about 32 non-ICU beds, and the patients are managed by a combination of hospitalists, general pediatricians, and specialist attendings. All patients are on resident teams. We have a comanagement model in which the primary attending for surgical patients is always a pediatric attending (hospitalist or specialist).
Avital M. Fischer, MD: NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is a quaternary care center – where children from the area receive subspecialty care – as well as, functionally, a community hospital for the Washington Heights area. Therefore, we always have an interesting mix of general pediatric inpatient medicine including patients with complex medical conditions, rare diseases, postoperative conditions, and undiagnosed illnesses on our wards. We are a children’s hospital, connected to a larger adult hospital system. Pediatric hospitalists cover two pediatric wards, team-staffed by residents, and a progressive care unit, staffed by nurse practitioners. There is usually evening coverage until 11 p.m.
How did this change when New York became the U.S. epicenter of the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic? Was the transition to taking care of adult patients gradual or sudden? Were you deployed to a different hospital or part of the hospital? How prepared did you feel?
Dr. Dunbar: We experienced the COVID-19 pandemic like much of the rest of New York City – it started as a slow and uncertain process, and then it hit us all at once. In initial conversations, like everyone else, we did not know exactly what was coming. We started with small changes like working from home on nonclinical days and canceling family-centered rounds to conserve personal protective equipment (PPE). In mid-March, we were still expecting that redeployment to adult floors was a highly unlikely scenario. We made work-from-home schedules and planned projects we would work on while social distancing. We planned journal clubs about emerging evidence on COVID-19. However, things happened fast, and many of these plans were scrapped.
On Saturday, March 28, we closed the main floor of the children’s hospital because so few pediatric patients were being admitted. Two days later, we admitted our first cohort of adult COVID-19 patients, all more than 30 years old. They were transferred en masse from an outside hospital emergency department that desperately needed our beds. They arrived all at once, and they all required respiratory support. At the last hospitalist division meeting before the adults arrived, we had time for only one priority set of information, and so we chose end-of-life care. We reviewed scripts for advance care planning and logistics of death certificates. As fast as things changed for us, they changed even faster for the patients. Most were relatively healthy people who rather suddenly found themselves isolated, on oxygen, dictating their final wishes to pediatricians in full protective gear. Many, many patients got better, and of course, several spent their last moments with us. One physician assistant, who works closely with the hospitalists, spent the last 5 hours of an elderly patient’s life holding her hand and helping her FaceTime with family.
For the most part, the patients came to us. We worked with our own colleagues and our own nurses, on our own territory. A few of my colleagues were briefly redeployed to a series of conference rooms that were used for several weeks as overflow space for more stable COVID-19 patients. Staffing by the pediatrics teams was so robust, with willing volunteers from every corner of the children’s hospital, that we were not needed for long.
During the early days, there was no clinical pathway to follow to care for COVID-19 patients – it didn’t exist for this novel and variable disease. We created a platform to share documents and resources in real time as they became available to us. We used group texts and emails to learn from our experiences and encourage one another. Importantly, no one was afraid to ask for help, and we relied on our adult colleagues when patients started to decompensate. Adult critical care came to our aid for all rapid responses for patients older than 30. Pediatric critical care, in their infinite flexibility, was responsible for anyone younger.
Dr. Hodo: We had a variety of changes. The first thing was the deployment of many of our attendings (hospital medicine, ICU, outpatient, and subspecialists) and residents to the adult side to work on medical COVID-19 units or in the many ICUs (some new “pop-up” units in former medical units, postanesthesia care units, and so on).2 On the adult floor we had “COVID teams,” which had an attending and two frontline providers; one of these three people was an internal medicine faculty member or resident. Residents from other specialties (emergency medicine, family medicine) were pulled off pediatric assignments in pediatric wards, PICUs, and EDs, so pediatric residents not originally assigned to inpatient rotations were sent to cover these core pediatric areas. The remaining pediatric faculty backfilled the pediatric services – so the remaining ICU docs did more shifts to cover ICU; the undeployed specialists took more inpatient service or clinic time, and so on. Outpatient pediatrics covered the inpatient pediatric service for the 3 weeks when most of the hospitalists were deployed.
We had one pediatric unit, which was a unit with equipment that made it capable of having ICU patients or floor patients, that was designated a COVID-19 unit. Most COVID-19 patients were there. Some were also in negative-pressure rooms on other floors or in the unit directly above the COVID-19 unit. Some adult patients came to the unit in the pediatric hospital but not as many as initially expected, and most were young adults in their 20s. So rather than adult patients coming to pediatrics, our experience was more that pediatricians went to the adult side.
The transition to adult care for physicians was variable in its suddenness. Most people had at least 48 hours’ notice, whereas some had as much as a week. Most of our department members deployed within the hospital complex of which we are a part, though a few went to other sites in the health system. Some were deployed into administrative or support roles in the system, rather than patient-facing roles. I felt, I would say, reasonably prepared. I trained in family medicine, though I have been exclusively in pediatrics for the past 7 years. I felt rusty, for sure, but perhaps not quite as out of my element as others. In preparation, I read a lot about COVID, reviewed some adult medicine topics provided by the medicine department, used the resources on the Pediatric Overflow Planning Contingency Response Network (POPCoRN), including an Advanced Cardiac Life Support review, and was able to shadow on a COVID-19 unit before I actually started – that was incredibly helpful. I also had the opportunity to speak about that shadowing experience in a department meeting, which I hope was helpful for others.
Dr. Fischer: Our whole focus for a relatively short time shifted to how to take care of adults within the children’s hospital. Although we had some time to prepare – the ICU was the first unit to take adults, so we knew they would come to the floor – it still felt quick. We took adult patients onto the general pediatrics floor from both the emergency department and the ICU. We took adults mostly with COVID-19, but we did have some young adults admitted for other reasons too. Those of us who were on service during this time collaborated closely, sharing what we learned and even joining one another on rounds to provide support. We basically would “teach it forward” as we learned. We also had adult providers available by phone for questions, and our pediatric subspecialists were readily available for consults and would reach out to their adult counterparts for support. Some of the hospitalists were reaching out to POPCoRN, and some were attending an ACLS crash course prior to getting on service.
What was hardest about this experience for you?
Dr. Dunbar: For me, one of the hardest aspects of dealing with COVID-19 was the unknown. In every aspect of professional life and clinical care, there were unanswered questions. What’s the best way to care for these patients? What prognoses can we give their loved ones? How can I help when it seems like there’s so little I can offer? Will we run out of PPE? As doctors, what behaviors most endanger our friends and family when we go home after work? When will things start to get better?
Dr. Hodo: For me, the week or two before being notified of the deployment was the worst and hardest time. The uncertainty about if I would be called or no, and to do what? And where? I was trying to read everything there was on management, what little was known about treatment, and so on. Once I received notification of a start date, that allowed me to focus on very clear endpoints and knowledge items (for example, reviewing ACLS algorithms) and to do things I knew would help me settle and be more effective (like shadowing).
Dr. Fischer: It was a lot of new. Not only were we taking care of a population that we hadn’t cared for since medical school (adults), but we were facing a disease process that was also new to everyone. We were learning on our feet, while at the same time providing guidance to our house staff.
What have you learned about yourself that you did not know before?
Dr. Dunbar: I was surprised to learn how much I liked caring for adult patients. The fear I felt immediately before they arrived dissipated fairly quickly after they arrived. The opportunity to address their chronic conditions while supporting them in an acute illness took me back to many of the fundamentals of medicine that I hadn’t thought much about since medical school. I liked that they could speak up to tell us how they were feeling, both physically and emotionally, so that we could address their needs and allow them to participate in their own care. Some of my favorite patients kept detailed histories of their own C-reactive protein values and oxygen levels to show they were active participants in their own recovery.
I was worried that these adult patients would be offended or scared to learn that they were being cared for by pediatricians, but at no point did anyone ask me why they were not assigned to an adult hospitalist. They saw us only as doctors and nurses, and they were grateful for our care. One 65-year-old U.S. Army veteran told me that his nurse had told him to take a shower and make his bed. “She treated me just like a 5-year-old kid. And I loved it!” he said.
Dr. Hodo: I don’t know that I was totally unaware of these things, but I will say that I had partially forgotten them: I really like adult medicine, and I love geriatrics. I like high-energy and high-stress situations … at least occasionally! I feel very comfortable discussing end-of-life decisions and death. I cope with personal stress by helping and supporting others – patients, team members, colleagues, neighbors. I risk not taking enough time for myself and have to remind myself to do so.
Dr. Fischer: I actually loved taking care of adults. It felt like there was a different kind of patient-doctor relationship to be had, and it was interesting to get to know people who had jobs and families of their own – essentially a different type of story than you typically hear taking care of children.
Were there any silver linings in this situation? How did you grow personally through this experience? What do we need to do better going forward as a profession and a community?
Dr. Dunbar: The part that I hope will stay with me is the memory of how we came together as clinicians to fight a common invisible enemy. The teamwork was unprecedented. Our day-to-day goals were simple and straightforward: do what needed to be done to help as many New Yorkers as possible. Our team made themselves available for last-minute meetings and shift changes without complaint. We practiced a type of medicine that prioritized patient comfort, flexibility, and compassionate care. We ordered methadone and insulin and antihypertensives – brand new experiences for us, but we figured it out. We worked through novel clinical problems together because there was no textbook to read.
Our colleagues from other specialties and different levels of experience stepped up to join us on overnight shifts, and we welcomed them. With the help of an ad hoc palliative care team, we improved how we listened to patients’ own self-directed needs. We reached across the aisle to our internal medicine and adult hospitalist colleagues to refresh our memories on chronic conditions, and they always answered the phone. I hope we always remember who we were during this crisis, because we were ourselves at our most generous.
Dr. Hodo: This was an unexpected but great opportunity to meet physicians, nurses, and staff in different departments and sections of the hospital from my own. I am hopeful that this experience will help us in the future with multidisciplinary work and breaking down silos that isolate specialties and units in the hospital.
I feel (and this is probably weird) invigorated by this experience. It feels good to have been able to help when I was needed. Even though there are a lot of things in adult hospital medicine I do not know, I know I did my best, asked for help when I needed it, and asked for feedback regularly from the medicine residents and nurses I worked with. I know I supported my team and my colleagues to the best of my ability through stressful and sometimes upsetting and emotionally draining times.
As a profession, we can continue to remember the value of the multidisciplinary team and the value of listening to, and making space for, different voices to be heard. We can reconsider the traditional, rigid hierarchy in medicine and medical education that can stifle creative thought and innovative ideas. We can remember that the people “at the top” of the pyramid can always learn something from those “at the bottom.” We can see the ways that department and discipline and specialty can help us but also sometimes hinder, and seek involvement in programs and discussions that unite and pool resources and skills. And, most of all, we can try, every day we are at work, to put the patients’ and families’ needs first – and when we leave work, to turn that around, and put ourselves and our loved ones in that prime position.
As a community, we also can work on thinking communally – that, after all, is the entire point of the wearing of masks in public and social distancing. It is as much about you as about me! We can try to hold on to some of this perspective of the greater good and appreciation for the work others do that makes our lives better and easier. It is not only health care workers who deserve a round of applause every day; it is every person who did something today that benefited someone else, be that giving extra space in a line, wearing a mask in a store, delivering food to an elder, teaching a class over Zoom, or simply minimizing time outside the house. It is every person who thought about the community at or near the same level of priority that they thought about themselves.
Dr. Fischer: It was a very challenging situation, but because our adult patients in the children’s hospital were relatively young with fewer comorbidities, we got to see people get well. I took care of one man with renal failure who we thought would be on dialysis for the rest of his life. By the end of my first week on service, he had begun to regain kidney function. It was amazing. I think most frontline providers caring for adults in this pandemic have had to face significant morbidity and mortality. I felt lucky that we were able to care for patients who generally got better.
I recently read the article published in the Journal of Pediatrics laying out how the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore adapted an entire pediatric floor to caring for adults.3 This example of recognition of need, quick preparation, and collaboration both within the children’s hospital and with the adult hospital was admirable. I also feel that at the beginning of this pandemic, there was a glimmer that the failure of our health care system to cover everyone and the repercussions of this failure would be drawn into sharp relief. I hope that this understanding of the importance of universal coverage persists beyond the pandemic.
Dr. Giordano is assistant professor of pediatrics at Columbia University and a pediatric hospitalist at NewYork-Presbyterian Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital with an interest in surgical comanagement. She serves on the Society of Hospital Medicine’s Pediatric Special Interest Group Executive Committee and is the chair of the Education Subcommittee. She is also an advisory board member for the New York/Westchester SHM Chapter.
References
1. Kumaraiah D et al. Innovative ICU physician care models: Covid-19 pandemic at NewYork-Presbyterian. NEJM Catal. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0158.
2. Kim MK et al. A primer for clinician deployment to the medicine floors from an epicenter of Covid-19. NEJM Catal. 2020 May 4. doi: 10.1056/CAT.20.0180.
3. Philips K, et al. Rapid Implementation of an Adult COVID-19 Unit in a Children’s Hospital. J Pediatr. 2020. doi: 10.1016/j.jpeds.2020.04.060.