Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Amid clouds of choking tear gas, booming flash-bang grenades and other “riot control agents,” volunteer medics plunged into street protests over the past weeks to help the injured – sometimes rushing to the front lines as soon as their hospital shifts ended.

Known as “street medics,” these unorthodox teams of nursing students, veterinarians, doctors, trauma surgeons, security guards, ski patrollers, nurses, wilderness EMTs, and off-the-clock ambulance workers poured water – not milk – into the eyes of tear-gassed protesters. They stanched bleeding wounds and plucked disoriented teenagers from clouds of gas, entering dangerous corners where on-duty emergency health responders may fear to go.

Many are medical professionals who see parallels between the front lines of COVID-19, where they confront stark racial imbalances among those stricken by the coronavirus, and what they see as racialized police brutality.

So donning cloth masks to protect against the virus – plus helmets, makeshift shields and other gear to guard against rubber bullets, projectiles and tear gas – the volunteer medics organized themselves into a web of first responders to care for people on the streets. They showed up early, set up first-aid stations, established transportation networks and covered their arms, helmets and backpacks with crosses made of red duct tape, to signify that they were medics. Some stayed late into the night past curfews until every protester had left.

Iris Butler, a 21-year-old certified nursing assistant who works in a nursing home, decided to offer her skills after seeing a man injured by a rubber bullet on her first night at the Denver protests. She showed up as a medic every night thereafter. She didn’t see it as a choice.

“I am working full time and basically being at the protest after getting straight off of work,” said Butler, who is black. That’s tiring, she added, but so is being a black woman in America.

After going out as a medic on her own, she soon met other volunteers. Together they used text-message chains to organize their efforts. One night, she responded to a man who had been shot with a rubber bullet in the chest; she said his torso had turned blue and purple from the impact. She also provided aid after a shooting near the protest left someone in critical condition.

“It’s hard, but bills need to be paid and justice needs to be served,” she said.

The street medic movement traces its roots, in part, to the 1960s protests, as well as the American Indian Movement and the Black Panther Party. Denver Action Medic Network offers a 20-hour training course that prepares them to treat patients in conflicts with police and large crowds; a four-hour session is offered to medical professionals as “bridge” training.

Since the coronavirus pandemic began, the Denver Action Medic Network has added new training guidelines: Don’t go to protests if sick or in contact with those who are infected; wear a mask; give people lots of space and use hand sanitizer. Jordan Garcia, a 39-year-old medic for over 20 years who works with the network of veteran street medics, said they also warn medics about the increased risk of transmission because of protesters coughing from tear gas, and urge them to get tested for the virus after the protests.

The number of volunteer medics swelled after George Floyd’s May 25 killing in Minneapolis. In Denver alone, at least 40 people reached out to the Denver Action Medic Network for training.

On June 3, Dr. Rupa Marya, an associate professor of medicine at the University of California,San Francisco, and the co-founder of the Do No Harm Coalition, which runs street medic training in the Bay Area, hosted a national webinar attended by over 3,000 medical professionals to provide the bridge training to be a street medic. In her online bio, Marya describes the coalition as “an organization of over 450 health workers committed to structural change” in addressing health problems.

“When we see suffering, that’s where we go,” Marya said. “And right now that suffering is happening on the streets.”

In the recent Denver protests, street medics responded to major head, face and eye injuries among protesters from what are sometimes described as “kinetic impact projectiles” or “less-than-lethal” bullets shot at protesters, along with tear-gas and flash-bang stun grenade canisters that either hit them or exploded in their faces.

Garcia, who by day works for an immigrant rights nonprofit, said that these weapons are not designed to be shot directly at people.

“We’re seeing police use these less-lethal weapons in lethal ways, and that is pretty upsetting,” Garcia said about the recent protests.

Denver police Chief Paul Pazen promised to make changes, including banning chokeholds and requiring SWAT teams to turn on their body cameras. Last week, a federal judge also issued a temporary injunction to stop Denver police from using tear gas and other less-than-lethal weapons in response to a class action lawsuit, in which a medic stated he was shot multiple times by police with pepper balls while treating patients. (Last week in North Carolina police were recorded destroying medic stations.)

Denver street medic Kevin Connell, a 30-year-old emergency room nurse, said he was hit with pepper balls in the back of his medic vest – which was clearly marked by red crosses – while treating a patient. He showed up to the Denver protests every night he did not have to work, he said, wearing a Kevlar medic vest, protective goggles and a homemade gas mask fashioned from a water bottle. As a member of the Denver Action Medic Network, Connell also served at the Standing Rock protests in North Dakota in a dispute over the building of the Dakota Access Pipeline.

“I mean, as bad as it sounds, it was only tear gas, pepper balls and rubber bullets that were being fired on us,” Connell said of his recent experience in Denver. “When I was at Standing Rock, they were using high-powered water hoses even when it was, like, freezing cold. … So I think the police here had a little bit more restraint.”

Still, first-time street medic Aj Mossman, a 31-year-old Denver emergency medical technician studying for nursing school, was shocked to be tear-gassed and struck in the back of the leg with a flash grenade while treating a protester on May 30. Mossman still has a large leg bruise.

The following night, Mossman, who uses the pronoun they, brought more protective gear, but said they are still having difficulty processing what felt like a war zone.

“I thought I understood what my black friends went through. I thought I understood what the black community went through,” said Mossman, who is white. “But I had absolutely no idea how violent the police were and how little they cared about who they hurt.”

For Butler, serving as a medic with others from various walks of life was inspiring. “They’re also out there to protect black and brown bodies. And that’s amazing,” she said. “That’s just a beautiful sight.”

This article originally appeared on Kaiser Health News, which is a nonprofit national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation that is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

Low-dose ipilimumab plus pembrolizumab given immediately after progression on a PD-1 antibody alone demonstrated antitumor activity and tolerability in patients with advanced melanoma in a phase 2 study, according to an investigator.

The investigator, Daniel Olson, MD, of the University of Chicago, presented the study results as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

Pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg generated a response rate of 27%, Dr. Olson reported. This is higher than the 15% response rate observed in historical controls who received ipilimumab alone after primary PD-1 failure (Lancet Oncol. 2019 Sep;20[9]:1239-1251), he noted.

“Treatment-related grade 3 to 4 toxicity occurred in 27% of patients” in the current trial, Dr. Olson added. He said this compares favorably to ipilimumab given at 3 mg/kg in combination with a PD-1 antibody first line, which produced a grade 3/4 adverse event rate of 59% in a prior trial (N Engl J Med 2017; 377:1345-1356).
 

Preserving efficacy while limiting toxicity

“The combination of PD-1 and CTLA-4 blockade is an incredibly potent combination, not only in melanoma, but across cancer types,” said Douglas Johnson, MD, an assistant professor at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tenn., and the discussant on Dr. Olson’s presentation.

Dr. Johnson noted, however, that the combination produces a high incidence of serious immune-related adverse events.

The goal of recent research has been finding a way to preserve the efficacy but limit the toxicity. The tack taken in the current study was to wait until primary PD-1 antibody failure to initiate the combination, then do so with an ipilimumab dose lower than the standard 3 mg/kg used in melanoma.

“The response rate was quite good,” Dr. Johnson said. “I think these are very favorable results.”

“It does seem like the sequential approach does decrease the total number of toxicities compared to using both agents in the front line,” he added. “Should we use 1 mg/kg or 3 mg/kg [ipilimumab] in this sort of sequential-type approach? I would say, at this point, they’re still both viable.”

However, for “patients who really need an upfront response ... we might favor giving combination upfront,” Dr. Johnson said.
 

Patients and treatment

The trial (NCT02743819) enrolled 70 patients with unresectable or metastatic melanoma that had progressed on a PD-1 antibody after a median treatment duration of 4.8 months. Patients had no prior exposure to a CTLA4 antibody.

Prior to entry, 86% of subjects had been treated with a PD-1 antibody alone, 14% with a PD-1 antibody in a non-CTLA4 antibody combination, and 7% with BRAF-directed therapy prior to PD-1 antibody treatment.

The patients’ median age was 64 years, and 67% were men. Overall, 89% of subjects had cutaneous melanoma, 10% acral melanoma, and 1% mucosal melanoma.

Half of patients had stage IV M1c or M1d disease. Ten percent had treated brain metastases at baseline, 24% had liver metastases, 28% had baseline lactate dehydrogenase (LDH) above the upper limit of normal, and 29% had BRAF mutations.

The patients were treated with ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg every 3 weeks for four doses. They received pembrolizumab at 200 mg every 3 weeks for up to 2 years.
 

Response details

There were 61 subjects evaluable for response, but all 70 patients were considered in the response rate. There were 5 complete responses and 14 partial responses, for a response rate of 27% (19/70). The median duration of response was 18.5 months.

“We did observe a substantially higher response rate among the PD-L1 negative subgroup, as compared to PD-L1-positive,” Dr. Olson said. “The responses observed in some of these higher-risk patients, and especially the responses we saw among many PD-L1-negative tumors, suggested that we might be capturing atypical responders with [pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab].”

“Most responses occurred in non-T-cell-inflamed or intermediate tumors,” Dr. Olson added. “Our trial enriched for non-T-cell inflamed tumor phenotypes, where we then observe[d] responses.”

“These patients responded across BRAF mutation status,” Dr. Johnson noted. “Patients who had elevated LDH, those who had liver metastases, brain metastases, also had comparable response rates to those lacking those more adverse prognostic features.”
 

Survival and safety

The median progression-free survival was 5 months, and the median overall survival was 24.7 months.

“The multiple durable responses we observed did translate into long-term survival for some patients,” Dr. Olson said.

Eighteen subjects (26%) had grade 3 adverse events at least possibly related to treatment. The most common were colitis/diarrhea in 9%, rash in 6%, and ALT/AST elevations in 6%. There was one grade 4 adverse event, a lipase elevation.

The median time to onset of high-grade adverse events was 55 days, which would fall between cycles 2 and 3 of ipilimumab “and is similar to the experience with [ipilimumab] in the front-line setting,” Dr. Olson said.

This study was funded by an investigator-initiated grant from Merck. Dr. Olson had no disclosures. Some of his coinvestigators reported ties to the company. Dr. Johnson is an advisor for Merck.

aotto@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Olson D et al. ASCO 2020, Abstract 10004.

Low-dose ipilimumab plus pembrolizumab given immediately after progression on a PD-1 antibody alone demonstrated antitumor activity and tolerability in patients with advanced melanoma in a phase 2 study, according to an investigator.

The investigator, Daniel Olson, MD, of the University of Chicago, presented the study results as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

Pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg generated a response rate of 27%, Dr. Olson reported. This is higher than the 15% response rate observed in historical controls who received ipilimumab alone after primary PD-1 failure (Lancet Oncol. 2019 Sep;20[9]:1239-1251), he noted.

“Treatment-related grade 3 to 4 toxicity occurred in 27% of patients” in the current trial, Dr. Olson added. He said this compares favorably to ipilimumab given at 3 mg/kg in combination with a PD-1 antibody first line, which produced a grade 3/4 adverse event rate of 59% in a prior trial (N Engl J Med 2017; 377:1345-1356).
 

Preserving efficacy while limiting toxicity

“The combination of PD-1 and CTLA-4 blockade is an incredibly potent combination, not only in melanoma, but across cancer types,” said Douglas Johnson, MD, an assistant professor at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tenn., and the discussant on Dr. Olson’s presentation.

Dr. Johnson noted, however, that the combination produces a high incidence of serious immune-related adverse events.

The goal of recent research has been finding a way to preserve the efficacy but limit the toxicity. The tack taken in the current study was to wait until primary PD-1 antibody failure to initiate the combination, then do so with an ipilimumab dose lower than the standard 3 mg/kg used in melanoma.

“The response rate was quite good,” Dr. Johnson said. “I think these are very favorable results.”

“It does seem like the sequential approach does decrease the total number of toxicities compared to using both agents in the front line,” he added. “Should we use 1 mg/kg or 3 mg/kg [ipilimumab] in this sort of sequential-type approach? I would say, at this point, they’re still both viable.”

However, for “patients who really need an upfront response ... we might favor giving combination upfront,” Dr. Johnson said.
 

Patients and treatment

The trial (NCT02743819) enrolled 70 patients with unresectable or metastatic melanoma that had progressed on a PD-1 antibody after a median treatment duration of 4.8 months. Patients had no prior exposure to a CTLA4 antibody.

Prior to entry, 86% of subjects had been treated with a PD-1 antibody alone, 14% with a PD-1 antibody in a non-CTLA4 antibody combination, and 7% with BRAF-directed therapy prior to PD-1 antibody treatment.

The patients’ median age was 64 years, and 67% were men. Overall, 89% of subjects had cutaneous melanoma, 10% acral melanoma, and 1% mucosal melanoma.

Half of patients had stage IV M1c or M1d disease. Ten percent had treated brain metastases at baseline, 24% had liver metastases, 28% had baseline lactate dehydrogenase (LDH) above the upper limit of normal, and 29% had BRAF mutations.

The patients were treated with ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg every 3 weeks for four doses. They received pembrolizumab at 200 mg every 3 weeks for up to 2 years.
 

Response details

There were 61 subjects evaluable for response, but all 70 patients were considered in the response rate. There were 5 complete responses and 14 partial responses, for a response rate of 27% (19/70). The median duration of response was 18.5 months.

“We did observe a substantially higher response rate among the PD-L1 negative subgroup, as compared to PD-L1-positive,” Dr. Olson said. “The responses observed in some of these higher-risk patients, and especially the responses we saw among many PD-L1-negative tumors, suggested that we might be capturing atypical responders with [pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab].”

“Most responses occurred in non-T-cell-inflamed or intermediate tumors,” Dr. Olson added. “Our trial enriched for non-T-cell inflamed tumor phenotypes, where we then observe[d] responses.”

“These patients responded across BRAF mutation status,” Dr. Johnson noted. “Patients who had elevated LDH, those who had liver metastases, brain metastases, also had comparable response rates to those lacking those more adverse prognostic features.”
 

Survival and safety

The median progression-free survival was 5 months, and the median overall survival was 24.7 months.

“The multiple durable responses we observed did translate into long-term survival for some patients,” Dr. Olson said.

Eighteen subjects (26%) had grade 3 adverse events at least possibly related to treatment. The most common were colitis/diarrhea in 9%, rash in 6%, and ALT/AST elevations in 6%. There was one grade 4 adverse event, a lipase elevation.

The median time to onset of high-grade adverse events was 55 days, which would fall between cycles 2 and 3 of ipilimumab “and is similar to the experience with [ipilimumab] in the front-line setting,” Dr. Olson said.

This study was funded by an investigator-initiated grant from Merck. Dr. Olson had no disclosures. Some of his coinvestigators reported ties to the company. Dr. Johnson is an advisor for Merck.

aotto@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Olson D et al. ASCO 2020, Abstract 10004.

Low-dose ipilimumab plus pembrolizumab given immediately after progression on a PD-1 antibody alone demonstrated antitumor activity and tolerability in patients with advanced melanoma in a phase 2 study, according to an investigator.

The investigator, Daniel Olson, MD, of the University of Chicago, presented the study results as part of the American Society of Clinical Oncology virtual scientific program.

Pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg generated a response rate of 27%, Dr. Olson reported. This is higher than the 15% response rate observed in historical controls who received ipilimumab alone after primary PD-1 failure (Lancet Oncol. 2019 Sep;20[9]:1239-1251), he noted.

“Treatment-related grade 3 to 4 toxicity occurred in 27% of patients” in the current trial, Dr. Olson added. He said this compares favorably to ipilimumab given at 3 mg/kg in combination with a PD-1 antibody first line, which produced a grade 3/4 adverse event rate of 59% in a prior trial (N Engl J Med 2017; 377:1345-1356).
 

Preserving efficacy while limiting toxicity

“The combination of PD-1 and CTLA-4 blockade is an incredibly potent combination, not only in melanoma, but across cancer types,” said Douglas Johnson, MD, an assistant professor at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tenn., and the discussant on Dr. Olson’s presentation.

Dr. Johnson noted, however, that the combination produces a high incidence of serious immune-related adverse events.

The goal of recent research has been finding a way to preserve the efficacy but limit the toxicity. The tack taken in the current study was to wait until primary PD-1 antibody failure to initiate the combination, then do so with an ipilimumab dose lower than the standard 3 mg/kg used in melanoma.

“The response rate was quite good,” Dr. Johnson said. “I think these are very favorable results.”

“It does seem like the sequential approach does decrease the total number of toxicities compared to using both agents in the front line,” he added. “Should we use 1 mg/kg or 3 mg/kg [ipilimumab] in this sort of sequential-type approach? I would say, at this point, they’re still both viable.”

However, for “patients who really need an upfront response ... we might favor giving combination upfront,” Dr. Johnson said.
 

Patients and treatment

The trial (NCT02743819) enrolled 70 patients with unresectable or metastatic melanoma that had progressed on a PD-1 antibody after a median treatment duration of 4.8 months. Patients had no prior exposure to a CTLA4 antibody.

Prior to entry, 86% of subjects had been treated with a PD-1 antibody alone, 14% with a PD-1 antibody in a non-CTLA4 antibody combination, and 7% with BRAF-directed therapy prior to PD-1 antibody treatment.

The patients’ median age was 64 years, and 67% were men. Overall, 89% of subjects had cutaneous melanoma, 10% acral melanoma, and 1% mucosal melanoma.

Half of patients had stage IV M1c or M1d disease. Ten percent had treated brain metastases at baseline, 24% had liver metastases, 28% had baseline lactate dehydrogenase (LDH) above the upper limit of normal, and 29% had BRAF mutations.

The patients were treated with ipilimumab at 1 mg/kg every 3 weeks for four doses. They received pembrolizumab at 200 mg every 3 weeks for up to 2 years.
 

Response details

There were 61 subjects evaluable for response, but all 70 patients were considered in the response rate. There were 5 complete responses and 14 partial responses, for a response rate of 27% (19/70). The median duration of response was 18.5 months.

“We did observe a substantially higher response rate among the PD-L1 negative subgroup, as compared to PD-L1-positive,” Dr. Olson said. “The responses observed in some of these higher-risk patients, and especially the responses we saw among many PD-L1-negative tumors, suggested that we might be capturing atypical responders with [pembrolizumab plus ipilimumab].”

“Most responses occurred in non-T-cell-inflamed or intermediate tumors,” Dr. Olson added. “Our trial enriched for non-T-cell inflamed tumor phenotypes, where we then observe[d] responses.”

“These patients responded across BRAF mutation status,” Dr. Johnson noted. “Patients who had elevated LDH, those who had liver metastases, brain metastases, also had comparable response rates to those lacking those more adverse prognostic features.”
 

Survival and safety

The median progression-free survival was 5 months, and the median overall survival was 24.7 months.

“The multiple durable responses we observed did translate into long-term survival for some patients,” Dr. Olson said.

Eighteen subjects (26%) had grade 3 adverse events at least possibly related to treatment. The most common were colitis/diarrhea in 9%, rash in 6%, and ALT/AST elevations in 6%. There was one grade 4 adverse event, a lipase elevation.

The median time to onset of high-grade adverse events was 55 days, which would fall between cycles 2 and 3 of ipilimumab “and is similar to the experience with [ipilimumab] in the front-line setting,” Dr. Olson said.

This study was funded by an investigator-initiated grant from Merck. Dr. Olson had no disclosures. Some of his coinvestigators reported ties to the company. Dr. Johnson is an advisor for Merck.

aotto@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Olson D et al. ASCO 2020, Abstract 10004.

A new retrospective study provides some of the strongest support yet for considering first-line stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) over whole-brain radiotherapy (WBRT) in carefully selected patients with brain metastases from small-cell lung cancer (SCLC), the researchers say.

As expected, WBRT was superior to focused SRS in lengthening the time to disease progression in the brain. However, this advantage did not appear to provide an improvement in overall survival (OS).

“This study suggests that the trade-offs inherent to first-line SRS without WBRT, including a shorter time to new brain metastases without an apparent difference in overall survival, may be similar to other settings where SRS alone is already well established,” lead author Chad Rusthoven, MD, told Medscape Medical News.

Upfront SRS may be “particularly attractive for SCLC patients with limited brain metastases and those at a higher risk of developing neurocognitive toxicity from WBRT, including older patients and those with a poor baseline performance status,” said Rusthoven, of the Department of Radiation Oncology, University of Colorado School of Medicine, Aurora.

Results of the FIRE-SCLC study – the largest analysis of first-line SRS for patients with SCLC brain metastases – were published online June 4 in JAMA Oncology.

The coauthors of an editorial in JAMA Oncology say the FIRE-SCLC study investigators should be “commended for conducting this important work and also for highlighting the inherent limitations of retrospective data.”

“Even after multivariable adjustment, OS may not be directly compared between the SRS and WBRT groups because selection bias is likely,” caution Cecile Le Pechoux, MD, and Antonin Levy, MD, PhD, from Institut Gustave-Roussy in Villejuif, France.

“Impressive” Outcomes

The researchers analyzed the outcomes of 710 patients (mean age, 68.5 years; 75% men; Karnofsky Performance Status score, ≥90) who underwent first-line SRS without prior treatment with WBRT or prophylactic cranial irradiation. They compared the SRS outcomes with outcomes of a cohort of 219 patients treated with first-line WBRT for SCLC brain metastases.

The SRS outcomes are “encouraging,” with a median OS of 8.5 months, median time to central nervous system (CNS) progression (TTCP) of 8.1 months, and median CNS progression-free survival (PFS) of 5.0 months, the study investigators say.

The outcomes are “particularly impressive” in patients with a single brain metastasis (median OS and TTCP, 11.0 months and 11.7 months, respectively), they note.

They found no significant differences in OS or TTCP after SRS in patients with two to four lesions and those with five to 10 lesions.

Median OS was 8.7 months with two to four lesions, 8.0 months with five to 10 lesions, and 5.5 months with 11 or more lesions. Corresponding median TTCP was 6.8, 6.1, and 4.7 months.

Local failures after SRS were rare. Most CNS progression occurred in the form of new lesions, which is in line with what’s been shown with SRS in other settings.

In propensity score–matched analyses that compared SRS with WBRT, median OS was higher with SRS (6.5 months vs 5.2 months with WBRT; P = .003). Median TTCP was improved with WBRT (SRS, 9.0 months vs WBRT, not reached; hazard ratio, 0.38; 95% confidence interval, 0.26 – 0.55; P < .001), with no significant difference in CNS PFS (median, 4.0 months for SRS vs 3.8 months for WBRT; P = .79).

The results were similar in multivariable analyses that compared SRS and WBRT, including subgroup analyses that controlled for extracranial metastases and extracranial disease control status.

Benchmark Data

“Although these retrospective data should not be used to conclude that OS is superior with SRS, the findings of this study suggest that the primary trade-offs associated with SRS without WBRT, including a shorter TTCP, are similar to other settings in which SRS alone is well established by multiple randomized clinical trials,” the researchers write.

These data, they say, provide a “benchmark for SRS outcomes and offer support to first-line SRS as a treatment option in carefully selected patients with small-cell lung cancer.”

In a news release, senior author Tyler Robin, MD, University of Colorado School of Medicine, notes that paradigms for the treatment of SCLC are “evolving,” with the integration of immunotherapy into SCLC management, less use of WBRT, and guideline updates advising routine brain MRI surveillance for all patients.

“These changes may be expected to increase the identification of small-cell lung cancer patients with limited brain metastases who may be candidates for first-line SRS,” said Robin.

SRS made mainstream headlines in 2015 when former President Jimmy Carter was successfully treated for melanoma brain metastases with it. At the time, SRS was relatively new. The approach is more targeted and less toxic than traditional WBRT. Carter was treated at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia.

SRS is now widely available in the United States, but adoption has been slow, Rusthoven told Medscape Medical News.

“Delayed adoption of SRS for SCLC is related to a number of factors, including a concern for short-interval CNS progression with SCLC histology and the historical exclusion of SCLC patients from the landmark randomized trials that established SRS alone,” he said.

“We hope that this study will contribute to an increased interest in the role of SRS for carefully selected SCLC patients and that it will offer support to ongoing and developing prospective clinical trials evaluating first-line SRS alone for SCLC,” Rusthoven added.

Prospective Data “Eagerly” Needed

The French editorial writers say prospective data are “eagerly needed” for this patient population.

SRS, they conclude, “might be a promising treatment option” for patients with SCLC with brain metastases, but larger studies are needed, as prophylactic cranial irradiation or prophylactic-intent WBRT has been shown to improve survival. “Hopefully, the work of Rusthoven et al will be used for the development of further prospective trials in patients with SCLC with brain metastases,” they write.

The study was funded by a grant from the University of Colorado Cancer Center. Rusthoven has received research funding from Takeda outside the submitted work as well as honoraria for educational talks from Genentech and AstraZeneca outside this work. The original article contains a complete list of author disclosures. Le Pechoux has received institutional honoraria for participation in advisory boards from AstraZeneca, Nanobiotix, and Roche; institutional honoraria for participation to educational meetings from Amgen, AstraZeneca, Medscape, and Eli Lilly and Company; and personal honoraria from prIME Oncology for participation in educational meetings. Levy has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new retrospective study provides some of the strongest support yet for considering first-line stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) over whole-brain radiotherapy (WBRT) in carefully selected patients with brain metastases from small-cell lung cancer (SCLC), the researchers say.

As expected, WBRT was superior to focused SRS in lengthening the time to disease progression in the brain. However, this advantage did not appear to provide an improvement in overall survival (OS).

“This study suggests that the trade-offs inherent to first-line SRS without WBRT, including a shorter time to new brain metastases without an apparent difference in overall survival, may be similar to other settings where SRS alone is already well established,” lead author Chad Rusthoven, MD, told Medscape Medical News.

Upfront SRS may be “particularly attractive for SCLC patients with limited brain metastases and those at a higher risk of developing neurocognitive toxicity from WBRT, including older patients and those with a poor baseline performance status,” said Rusthoven, of the Department of Radiation Oncology, University of Colorado School of Medicine, Aurora.

Results of the FIRE-SCLC study – the largest analysis of first-line SRS for patients with SCLC brain metastases – were published online June 4 in JAMA Oncology.

The coauthors of an editorial in JAMA Oncology say the FIRE-SCLC study investigators should be “commended for conducting this important work and also for highlighting the inherent limitations of retrospective data.”

“Even after multivariable adjustment, OS may not be directly compared between the SRS and WBRT groups because selection bias is likely,” caution Cecile Le Pechoux, MD, and Antonin Levy, MD, PhD, from Institut Gustave-Roussy in Villejuif, France.

“Impressive” Outcomes

The researchers analyzed the outcomes of 710 patients (mean age, 68.5 years; 75% men; Karnofsky Performance Status score, ≥90) who underwent first-line SRS without prior treatment with WBRT or prophylactic cranial irradiation. They compared the SRS outcomes with outcomes of a cohort of 219 patients treated with first-line WBRT for SCLC brain metastases.

The SRS outcomes are “encouraging,” with a median OS of 8.5 months, median time to central nervous system (CNS) progression (TTCP) of 8.1 months, and median CNS progression-free survival (PFS) of 5.0 months, the study investigators say.

The outcomes are “particularly impressive” in patients with a single brain metastasis (median OS and TTCP, 11.0 months and 11.7 months, respectively), they note.

They found no significant differences in OS or TTCP after SRS in patients with two to four lesions and those with five to 10 lesions.

Median OS was 8.7 months with two to four lesions, 8.0 months with five to 10 lesions, and 5.5 months with 11 or more lesions. Corresponding median TTCP was 6.8, 6.1, and 4.7 months.

Local failures after SRS were rare. Most CNS progression occurred in the form of new lesions, which is in line with what’s been shown with SRS in other settings.

In propensity score–matched analyses that compared SRS with WBRT, median OS was higher with SRS (6.5 months vs 5.2 months with WBRT; P = .003). Median TTCP was improved with WBRT (SRS, 9.0 months vs WBRT, not reached; hazard ratio, 0.38; 95% confidence interval, 0.26 – 0.55; P < .001), with no significant difference in CNS PFS (median, 4.0 months for SRS vs 3.8 months for WBRT; P = .79).

The results were similar in multivariable analyses that compared SRS and WBRT, including subgroup analyses that controlled for extracranial metastases and extracranial disease control status.

Benchmark Data

“Although these retrospective data should not be used to conclude that OS is superior with SRS, the findings of this study suggest that the primary trade-offs associated with SRS without WBRT, including a shorter TTCP, are similar to other settings in which SRS alone is well established by multiple randomized clinical trials,” the researchers write.

These data, they say, provide a “benchmark for SRS outcomes and offer support to first-line SRS as a treatment option in carefully selected patients with small-cell lung cancer.”

In a news release, senior author Tyler Robin, MD, University of Colorado School of Medicine, notes that paradigms for the treatment of SCLC are “evolving,” with the integration of immunotherapy into SCLC management, less use of WBRT, and guideline updates advising routine brain MRI surveillance for all patients.

“These changes may be expected to increase the identification of small-cell lung cancer patients with limited brain metastases who may be candidates for first-line SRS,” said Robin.

SRS made mainstream headlines in 2015 when former President Jimmy Carter was successfully treated for melanoma brain metastases with it. At the time, SRS was relatively new. The approach is more targeted and less toxic than traditional WBRT. Carter was treated at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia.

SRS is now widely available in the United States, but adoption has been slow, Rusthoven told Medscape Medical News.

“Delayed adoption of SRS for SCLC is related to a number of factors, including a concern for short-interval CNS progression with SCLC histology and the historical exclusion of SCLC patients from the landmark randomized trials that established SRS alone,” he said.

“We hope that this study will contribute to an increased interest in the role of SRS for carefully selected SCLC patients and that it will offer support to ongoing and developing prospective clinical trials evaluating first-line SRS alone for SCLC,” Rusthoven added.

Prospective Data “Eagerly” Needed

The French editorial writers say prospective data are “eagerly needed” for this patient population.

SRS, they conclude, “might be a promising treatment option” for patients with SCLC with brain metastases, but larger studies are needed, as prophylactic cranial irradiation or prophylactic-intent WBRT has been shown to improve survival. “Hopefully, the work of Rusthoven et al will be used for the development of further prospective trials in patients with SCLC with brain metastases,” they write.

The study was funded by a grant from the University of Colorado Cancer Center. Rusthoven has received research funding from Takeda outside the submitted work as well as honoraria for educational talks from Genentech and AstraZeneca outside this work. The original article contains a complete list of author disclosures. Le Pechoux has received institutional honoraria for participation in advisory boards from AstraZeneca, Nanobiotix, and Roche; institutional honoraria for participation to educational meetings from Amgen, AstraZeneca, Medscape, and Eli Lilly and Company; and personal honoraria from prIME Oncology for participation in educational meetings. Levy has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new retrospective study provides some of the strongest support yet for considering first-line stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) over whole-brain radiotherapy (WBRT) in carefully selected patients with brain metastases from small-cell lung cancer (SCLC), the researchers say.

As expected, WBRT was superior to focused SRS in lengthening the time to disease progression in the brain. However, this advantage did not appear to provide an improvement in overall survival (OS).

“This study suggests that the trade-offs inherent to first-line SRS without WBRT, including a shorter time to new brain metastases without an apparent difference in overall survival, may be similar to other settings where SRS alone is already well established,” lead author Chad Rusthoven, MD, told Medscape Medical News.

Upfront SRS may be “particularly attractive for SCLC patients with limited brain metastases and those at a higher risk of developing neurocognitive toxicity from WBRT, including older patients and those with a poor baseline performance status,” said Rusthoven, of the Department of Radiation Oncology, University of Colorado School of Medicine, Aurora.

Results of the FIRE-SCLC study – the largest analysis of first-line SRS for patients with SCLC brain metastases – were published online June 4 in JAMA Oncology.

The coauthors of an editorial in JAMA Oncology say the FIRE-SCLC study investigators should be “commended for conducting this important work and also for highlighting the inherent limitations of retrospective data.”

“Even after multivariable adjustment, OS may not be directly compared between the SRS and WBRT groups because selection bias is likely,” caution Cecile Le Pechoux, MD, and Antonin Levy, MD, PhD, from Institut Gustave-Roussy in Villejuif, France.

“Impressive” Outcomes

The researchers analyzed the outcomes of 710 patients (mean age, 68.5 years; 75% men; Karnofsky Performance Status score, ≥90) who underwent first-line SRS without prior treatment with WBRT or prophylactic cranial irradiation. They compared the SRS outcomes with outcomes of a cohort of 219 patients treated with first-line WBRT for SCLC brain metastases.

The SRS outcomes are “encouraging,” with a median OS of 8.5 months, median time to central nervous system (CNS) progression (TTCP) of 8.1 months, and median CNS progression-free survival (PFS) of 5.0 months, the study investigators say.

The outcomes are “particularly impressive” in patients with a single brain metastasis (median OS and TTCP, 11.0 months and 11.7 months, respectively), they note.

They found no significant differences in OS or TTCP after SRS in patients with two to four lesions and those with five to 10 lesions.

Median OS was 8.7 months with two to four lesions, 8.0 months with five to 10 lesions, and 5.5 months with 11 or more lesions. Corresponding median TTCP was 6.8, 6.1, and 4.7 months.

Local failures after SRS were rare. Most CNS progression occurred in the form of new lesions, which is in line with what’s been shown with SRS in other settings.

In propensity score–matched analyses that compared SRS with WBRT, median OS was higher with SRS (6.5 months vs 5.2 months with WBRT; P = .003). Median TTCP was improved with WBRT (SRS, 9.0 months vs WBRT, not reached; hazard ratio, 0.38; 95% confidence interval, 0.26 – 0.55; P < .001), with no significant difference in CNS PFS (median, 4.0 months for SRS vs 3.8 months for WBRT; P = .79).

The results were similar in multivariable analyses that compared SRS and WBRT, including subgroup analyses that controlled for extracranial metastases and extracranial disease control status.

Benchmark Data

“Although these retrospective data should not be used to conclude that OS is superior with SRS, the findings of this study suggest that the primary trade-offs associated with SRS without WBRT, including a shorter TTCP, are similar to other settings in which SRS alone is well established by multiple randomized clinical trials,” the researchers write.

These data, they say, provide a “benchmark for SRS outcomes and offer support to first-line SRS as a treatment option in carefully selected patients with small-cell lung cancer.”

In a news release, senior author Tyler Robin, MD, University of Colorado School of Medicine, notes that paradigms for the treatment of SCLC are “evolving,” with the integration of immunotherapy into SCLC management, less use of WBRT, and guideline updates advising routine brain MRI surveillance for all patients.

“These changes may be expected to increase the identification of small-cell lung cancer patients with limited brain metastases who may be candidates for first-line SRS,” said Robin.

SRS made mainstream headlines in 2015 when former President Jimmy Carter was successfully treated for melanoma brain metastases with it. At the time, SRS was relatively new. The approach is more targeted and less toxic than traditional WBRT. Carter was treated at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia.

SRS is now widely available in the United States, but adoption has been slow, Rusthoven told Medscape Medical News.

“Delayed adoption of SRS for SCLC is related to a number of factors, including a concern for short-interval CNS progression with SCLC histology and the historical exclusion of SCLC patients from the landmark randomized trials that established SRS alone,” he said.

“We hope that this study will contribute to an increased interest in the role of SRS for carefully selected SCLC patients and that it will offer support to ongoing and developing prospective clinical trials evaluating first-line SRS alone for SCLC,” Rusthoven added.

Prospective Data “Eagerly” Needed

The French editorial writers say prospective data are “eagerly needed” for this patient population.

SRS, they conclude, “might be a promising treatment option” for patients with SCLC with brain metastases, but larger studies are needed, as prophylactic cranial irradiation or prophylactic-intent WBRT has been shown to improve survival. “Hopefully, the work of Rusthoven et al will be used for the development of further prospective trials in patients with SCLC with brain metastases,” they write.

The study was funded by a grant from the University of Colorado Cancer Center. Rusthoven has received research funding from Takeda outside the submitted work as well as honoraria for educational talks from Genentech and AstraZeneca outside this work. The original article contains a complete list of author disclosures. Le Pechoux has received institutional honoraria for participation in advisory boards from AstraZeneca, Nanobiotix, and Roche; institutional honoraria for participation to educational meetings from Amgen, AstraZeneca, Medscape, and Eli Lilly and Company; and personal honoraria from prIME Oncology for participation in educational meetings. Levy has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Case:

A 37-year-old woman presents with severe emaciation (body mass index, 9.4 kg/m²) because of chronic severe avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. She had asked for parenteral nutrition (PN) for several years, whenever her providers pushed her to accept nutrition support, as she had experienced extreme distress because of presumed gastroparesis with enteral feeds or any time she tried to eat. All of her many physicians refused the request for PN on the basis that her intestine was believed to be functioning and her symptoms were functional, so they insisted on tube feeding. The medical team was angered by the request for PN, and very concerned that providing it would support her belief that she could not eat, which they likened to a delusion. They opined that refusal of appropriate therapy (enteral nutrition) did not constitute an indication for inappropriate therapy (PN). They also deemed her to have capacity, so her refusal of tube feeding was honored. She continued to deteriorate, and because of her inability to travel, along with financial and insurance-related issues, was unable to seek alternative care providers. The family provided access to highly credible external consultants, and begged that her providers initiate PN as a life-saving measure. Both were declined. She was taken by her family to the emergency department when she began to have difficulty ambulating and increasing confusion. In recognition of the severity of her starvation, she was to be admitted to the critical care unit. With minimal monitoring while awaiting transfer from the emergency department overnight, she developed severe hypoglycemia and sustained cardiac arrest. Although spontaneous circulation was resumed, she sustained anoxic brain injury, and died after removal of life-sustaining treatment.

Ethical considerations

This case illustrates how the practice of caring for certain patients may come with deep unconscious determinants and conflicts of expectation – the duty to treat can be unclear in cases of refractory eating disorders. Multiple clinical teams were angry at the patient and her family for requesting PN and refused external input.

Although other eating disorders have received more attention, there is little research specific to avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. There is some consensus that someone at a very low weight because of anorexia nervosa cannot, by definition, have decisional capacity with regard to feeding. Certainly, reviews cite cognitive dysfunction as a common finding, far worse during starvation, in patients with anorexia nervosa,^1,2 and nourishment over objection has been advised.³ Further, it is known that gastric dysfunction occurs with some frequency in the presence of starvation in patients with eating disorders.⁴ Moreover, the potential risks of PN should be contextualized and compared with the certainty of death in someone this starved. Finally, if the patient’s refusal to eat or be tube fed were a delusion, which is by definition “fixed,” refusing to provide PN, and allowing further starvation, would not be expected to have benefit in resolution of the delusion.

Issues related to nourishment can be highly emotive – from “starving to death” on the one hand and “force feeding” on the other. Delivery of adequate nutrition and hydration is considered a basic human right, and must be offered as part of basic care. At the same time, we have observed that the request for nutrition support creates severe moral distress and anger among clinicians treating patients with eating disorders or with fatal illness. Does a delusion preclude feeding, even if by less than ideal means? How should a physician react to feeding treatments they deem excessive or unnecessary? Does a treating team have a duty to consider input from specialists with expertise specific to the patient when such conflict occurs between the patient/family and the treating team? Speculation exists that onset of anorexia nervosa may be linked to a postinfectious condition – a post–viral disease brain reprogramming.^5,6 Would an organic explanation change our attitude toward patients with eating disorders?
 

Medicine’s emotive harms

Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward certain patients – our implicit bias. It has been suggested that nice patients may be preferred by clinicians and therefore receive more humanistic care.⁷ Clinicians hold more negative attitudes toward patients with eating disorders than toward other patients. Cases of starvation caused by eating disorders are often seen by clinicians as a form of deviance, which provokes a visceral reaction of anger and frustration. These reactions have been associated with patients’ lack of improvement and personality pathology and with clinicians’ stigmatizing beliefs and inexperience.⁸ One could argue that this type of unconscious partiality may be worse than intentional harm.

Families and patients often request a treatment as a way to exert their agency. We clinicians may experience ethical dissonance as a result, whether because of ego or because the desired treatment is less favorable (for example, parenteral vs. enteral nutrition). Should maintaining clinical obstinance overrule patient and family autonomy, particularly in the face of the availability of life-saving intervention, even if less desirable than other standard treatments?

Should the physicians have better considered the relative risk of PN? What is the true potential harm? Would it benefit the patient or family? While PN’s benefit is usually life prolongation, it is not without risk of infection, potential mucosal atrophy of the unused gut, hepatic dysfunction, high cost, and an increased complexity of care. However, the incidence of blood stream infections in hospitalized patients receiving PN is only 1 episode for every 100 patient-days of treatment.⁹ On the other hand, weight regain is a significant determinant of success for treating eating disorders.¹⁰ Does the small risk of line-related sepsis, unlikely to be fatal, outweigh the certainty of death from starvation? What is the source of providers’ anger toward such patients? Even when providers feel any hope of improved outcome to be unreasonable, does refusal to provide nourishment, even if less than ideally, improve the likelihood the family will “come to grips” with the situation? Is there an obligation to consider our contribution to the emotional harm to the family because of our refusal, especially if coupled with anger?
 

Duty of life-saving care

Treating a competent patient without consent is unlawful. Autonomy is the dominant ethical principle, and a mentally competent person has the right to refuse consent to medical treatment for any reason, even when that decision may lead to death. Authors urge that patient lives should not be intentionally shortened, including the withholding of life-prolonging medical treatments or interventions.^11,12 Although starvation can compromise capacity, whether patients with severe starvation have truly lost their mental competence and right to self-determination is debated.¹³ Do physicians have a duty to provide nutrition support by whatever route a patient will accept as a life-saving measure or at least until nutritional stability and improved mental status can be attained?

Next steps

Despite potential concerns clinicians may have over the risks and disadvantages of PN, reeducation of clinician emotional responses toward providing it is needed. As illustrated by this case study, there are likely situations, not fitting the norm, when PN is warranted as a life-saving measure. An awareness of implicit bias we may experience is paramount in all situations. Case-by-case multidisciplinary evaluations are warranted based on guidelines from professional organizations,¹⁴ alongside core ethical principles, when considering nutrition support.

References

1. Guillaume S et al. Psychol Med. 2015 Dec;45(16):3377-91.

2. Katzman DK et al. Semin Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2001 Apr;6(2):146-52.

3. Elzakkers IF et al. Int J Eat Disord. 2014 Dec;47(8):845-52.

4. Robinson PH et al. Gut. 1988 Apr;29(4):458-64.

5. Breithaupt L et al. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019 Apr 24;76(8):800-9.

6. Sokol MS. J Child Adolesc Psychopharmacol. 2000;10(2):133-45.

7. Detsky AS, Baerlocher MO. JAMA. 2011 Jul;306(1):94-5.

8. Thompson-Brenner H et al. Psychiatr Serv. 2012 Jan;63(1):73-8.

9. Fonseca G et al. JPEN J Parenter Enteral Nutr. 2018 Jan;42(1):171-5.

10. National Collaborating Centre for Mental Health. In: Eating disorders: Core interventions in the treatment and management of anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and related eating disorders. Leicester, United Kingdom: British Psychological Society, 2004.

11. Keown J. Leg Stud. 2000 Mar;20(1):66-84.

12. Sayers GM et al. Postgrad Med J. 2006 Feb;82(964):79-83.

13. Miller I. BioSocieties. 2017;12:89-108.

14. A.S.P.E.N. Ethics Position Paper Task Force; Barrocas A et al. Nutr Clin Pract. 2010 Dec;25(6):672-9.
 

Dr. Anderson (@dochitect) is a clinical fellow in geriatric medicine at the University of California, San Francisco; Dr. Seres (@davidseres1) is an associate professor of medicine in the Institute of Human Nutrition, director of medical nutrition, and associate clinical ethicist at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, New York. They have no funding sources to declare and no conflicts of interest.

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to dermnews@mdedge.com.
 

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to dermnews@mdedge.com.
 

Lichen nitidus (LN) is an uncommon inflammatory dermatosis of uncertain etiology. It most commonly presents as small, shiny, skin colored papules that typically occur on the trunk, extremities, or genitalia of children and young adults. However, it can affect people of all ages and all areas of skin. Lichen nitidus lesions may emerge in areas of trauma, often in a linear arrangement, called the Koebner phenomenon. It is not thought to be associated with any systemic disease. Nail involvement may be present. Oral lesions are not commonly seen. The diagnosis of LN is often a clinical one.

Histopathology for this patient showed a focally dense lymphohistiocytic infiltrate with multinucleate giant cells in the papillary dermis, associated with overlying epidermal atrophy and adjacent elongated rete ridges surrounding the infiltrate in a characteristic “ball and claw” pattern. These findings were consistent with a diagnosis of lichen nitidus.

The case and these photos were submitted byMs. Swartz of Nova Southeastern University, Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.; Dr. Chen and Dr. Walder of Bay Harbor Islands, Fla.; and Dr. Winslow of Pompano Beach, Fla. Donna Bilu Martin, MD, editor of this column, is a board-certified dermatologist in private practice at Premier Dermatology, MD, in Aventura, Fla. More diagnostic cases are available at MDedge.com/Dermatology. To submit a case for possible publication, send an email to dermnews@mdedge.com.
 

Prophylactically clipping large proximal colorectal lesions after resection may reduce risk of postprocedural bleeding, according to a meta-analysis involving nine randomized controlled trials.

Across all lesions, prophylactic clipping had no significant benefit, but when considering only large proximal lesions, clipping reduced bleeding risk by 63%, reported lead author Marco Spadaccini, MD, of Humanitas University, Rozzano, Italy, and colleagues.

According to the investigators, these findings emphasize the relevance of polyp size and location when assessing bleeding risk, which may influence future clinical guidance.

“Despite lack of high-quality evidence, prophylactic clipping has been advocated as a technique to reduce the risk of postprocedural bleeding,” the investigators wrote in Gastroenterology, referring to the European Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy recommendation that is based on patient risk factors.

Although previous meta-analyses reported that prophylactic clipping had no protective effect, these studies were “at high risk of bias” and predominantly evaluated lesions less than 20 mm in diameter, the investigators wrote.

Dr. Spadaccini and colleagues suggested that data from more recent, high-quality, randomized controlled trials could be used to identify subgroups that may benefit from clipping. This knowledge is particularly valuable considering the “costs and technical complexity” involved in the procedure, they noted.

The present meta-analysis comprised nine trials that included 7,197 colorectal lesions, of which 49.2% were proximally located and 22.5% were large (at least 20 mm in diameter).

Across all lesions, postprocedural bleeding occurred in 2.2% of clipped lesions and 3.3% of nonclipped lesions, a difference that was not statistically significant (P = .072). But for lesions 20 mm or larger, clipping was associated with a significantly lower rate of bleeding (4.3% vs. 7.6%; relative risk, 0.51; 95% CI, 0.33-0.78; P = .020). Similarly, clipping in the proximal location was independently associated with reduced bleeding risk (3.0% vs. 6.2%; RR, 0.53; 95% CI, 0.35-0.81; P less than .001). A multilevel meta-regression added further clarity by combining both size and location; it showed that clipping had a significant protective effect for large proximal lesions (RR, 0.37; 95% CI, 0.22-0.61; P = .021), but not for those that were small and proximal (RR, 0.88; 95% CI, 0.48-1.62; P = .581).

“According to our meta-analysis, routine practice of endoscopic clipping as a prophylactic intervention does not reduce the risk of postpolypectomy bleeding,” the investigators wrote. “However, clipping was effective in reducing the risk of postprocedural bleeding by nearly 50% for large lesions. If such lesions do not undergo endoscopic clipping, there was fourfold increase in the baseline risk of post-procedural bleeding as compared with those less than 20 mm.”

While the present analysis suggested that clipping was beneficial only for large lesions in the proximal colon, the investigators noted that the protective effect of clipping large lesions in the distal colon (RR, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.22-2.27) was “somewhat intermediate ... albeit not statistically significant” and driven by data from one trial.

“[T]his was not confirmed by other studies generating some uncertainty on the benefit of prophylactic clipping for large distal lesions,” the investigators wrote. “Thus, the decision for large and distal lesions should be tailored, especially taking into consideration other patient- and polyp-risk factors for postprocedural bleeding, such as the use of anti-thrombotic agents or intraprocedural bleeding.”

In contrast, the findings indicated that clipping is unnecessary for lesions less than 20 mm, the investigators wrote.

They went on to explain that clinical application of these findings could result in “significant cost savings” because one bleeding event would be prevented for every 23 large lesions clipped.

“Considering that clips are expensive and their placement might be technically demanding, prophylactic clipping tailored for a subgroup of higher-risk lesions/patients would decrease in parallel both adverse events and costs,” the investigators concluded.

The investigators reported no external funding or conflicts of interest.

ginews@gastro.org

SOURCE: Spadaccini M et al. Gastroenterology. 2020 Apr 1. doi: 10.1053/j.gastro.2020.03.051.

Prophylactically clipping large proximal colorectal lesions after resection may reduce risk of postprocedural bleeding, according to a meta-analysis involving nine randomized controlled trials.

Across all lesions, prophylactic clipping had no significant benefit, but when considering only large proximal lesions, clipping reduced bleeding risk by 63%, reported lead author Marco Spadaccini, MD, of Humanitas University, Rozzano, Italy, and colleagues.

According to the investigators, these findings emphasize the relevance of polyp size and location when assessing bleeding risk, which may influence future clinical guidance.

“Despite lack of high-quality evidence, prophylactic clipping has been advocated as a technique to reduce the risk of postprocedural bleeding,” the investigators wrote in Gastroenterology, referring to the European Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy recommendation that is based on patient risk factors.

Although previous meta-analyses reported that prophylactic clipping had no protective effect, these studies were “at high risk of bias” and predominantly evaluated lesions less than 20 mm in diameter, the investigators wrote.

Dr. Spadaccini and colleagues suggested that data from more recent, high-quality, randomized controlled trials could be used to identify subgroups that may benefit from clipping. This knowledge is particularly valuable considering the “costs and technical complexity” involved in the procedure, they noted.

The present meta-analysis comprised nine trials that included 7,197 colorectal lesions, of which 49.2% were proximally located and 22.5% were large (at least 20 mm in diameter).

Across all lesions, postprocedural bleeding occurred in 2.2% of clipped lesions and 3.3% of nonclipped lesions, a difference that was not statistically significant (P = .072). But for lesions 20 mm or larger, clipping was associated with a significantly lower rate of bleeding (4.3% vs. 7.6%; relative risk, 0.51; 95% CI, 0.33-0.78; P = .020). Similarly, clipping in the proximal location was independently associated with reduced bleeding risk (3.0% vs. 6.2%; RR, 0.53; 95% CI, 0.35-0.81; P less than .001). A multilevel meta-regression added further clarity by combining both size and location; it showed that clipping had a significant protective effect for large proximal lesions (RR, 0.37; 95% CI, 0.22-0.61; P = .021), but not for those that were small and proximal (RR, 0.88; 95% CI, 0.48-1.62; P = .581).

“According to our meta-analysis, routine practice of endoscopic clipping as a prophylactic intervention does not reduce the risk of postpolypectomy bleeding,” the investigators wrote. “However, clipping was effective in reducing the risk of postprocedural bleeding by nearly 50% for large lesions. If such lesions do not undergo endoscopic clipping, there was fourfold increase in the baseline risk of post-procedural bleeding as compared with those less than 20 mm.”

While the present analysis suggested that clipping was beneficial only for large lesions in the proximal colon, the investigators noted that the protective effect of clipping large lesions in the distal colon (RR, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.22-2.27) was “somewhat intermediate ... albeit not statistically significant” and driven by data from one trial.

“[T]his was not confirmed by other studies generating some uncertainty on the benefit of prophylactic clipping for large distal lesions,” the investigators wrote. “Thus, the decision for large and distal lesions should be tailored, especially taking into consideration other patient- and polyp-risk factors for postprocedural bleeding, such as the use of anti-thrombotic agents or intraprocedural bleeding.”

In contrast, the findings indicated that clipping is unnecessary for lesions less than 20 mm, the investigators wrote.

They went on to explain that clinical application of these findings could result in “significant cost savings” because one bleeding event would be prevented for every 23 large lesions clipped.

“Considering that clips are expensive and their placement might be technically demanding, prophylactic clipping tailored for a subgroup of higher-risk lesions/patients would decrease in parallel both adverse events and costs,” the investigators concluded.

The investigators reported no external funding or conflicts of interest.

ginews@gastro.org

SOURCE: Spadaccini M et al. Gastroenterology. 2020 Apr 1. doi: 10.1053/j.gastro.2020.03.051.

Prophylactically clipping large proximal colorectal lesions after resection may reduce risk of postprocedural bleeding, according to a meta-analysis involving nine randomized controlled trials.

Across all lesions, prophylactic clipping had no significant benefit, but when considering only large proximal lesions, clipping reduced bleeding risk by 63%, reported lead author Marco Spadaccini, MD, of Humanitas University, Rozzano, Italy, and colleagues.

According to the investigators, these findings emphasize the relevance of polyp size and location when assessing bleeding risk, which may influence future clinical guidance.

“Despite lack of high-quality evidence, prophylactic clipping has been advocated as a technique to reduce the risk of postprocedural bleeding,” the investigators wrote in Gastroenterology, referring to the European Society of Gastrointestinal Endoscopy recommendation that is based on patient risk factors.

Although previous meta-analyses reported that prophylactic clipping had no protective effect, these studies were “at high risk of bias” and predominantly evaluated lesions less than 20 mm in diameter, the investigators wrote.

Dr. Spadaccini and colleagues suggested that data from more recent, high-quality, randomized controlled trials could be used to identify subgroups that may benefit from clipping. This knowledge is particularly valuable considering the “costs and technical complexity” involved in the procedure, they noted.

The present meta-analysis comprised nine trials that included 7,197 colorectal lesions, of which 49.2% were proximally located and 22.5% were large (at least 20 mm in diameter).

Across all lesions, postprocedural bleeding occurred in 2.2% of clipped lesions and 3.3% of nonclipped lesions, a difference that was not statistically significant (P = .072). But for lesions 20 mm or larger, clipping was associated with a significantly lower rate of bleeding (4.3% vs. 7.6%; relative risk, 0.51; 95% CI, 0.33-0.78; P = .020). Similarly, clipping in the proximal location was independently associated with reduced bleeding risk (3.0% vs. 6.2%; RR, 0.53; 95% CI, 0.35-0.81; P less than .001). A multilevel meta-regression added further clarity by combining both size and location; it showed that clipping had a significant protective effect for large proximal lesions (RR, 0.37; 95% CI, 0.22-0.61; P = .021), but not for those that were small and proximal (RR, 0.88; 95% CI, 0.48-1.62; P = .581).

“According to our meta-analysis, routine practice of endoscopic clipping as a prophylactic intervention does not reduce the risk of postpolypectomy bleeding,” the investigators wrote. “However, clipping was effective in reducing the risk of postprocedural bleeding by nearly 50% for large lesions. If such lesions do not undergo endoscopic clipping, there was fourfold increase in the baseline risk of post-procedural bleeding as compared with those less than 20 mm.”

While the present analysis suggested that clipping was beneficial only for large lesions in the proximal colon, the investigators noted that the protective effect of clipping large lesions in the distal colon (RR, 0.70; 95% CI, 0.22-2.27) was “somewhat intermediate ... albeit not statistically significant” and driven by data from one trial.

“[T]his was not confirmed by other studies generating some uncertainty on the benefit of prophylactic clipping for large distal lesions,” the investigators wrote. “Thus, the decision for large and distal lesions should be tailored, especially taking into consideration other patient- and polyp-risk factors for postprocedural bleeding, such as the use of anti-thrombotic agents or intraprocedural bleeding.”

In contrast, the findings indicated that clipping is unnecessary for lesions less than 20 mm, the investigators wrote.

They went on to explain that clinical application of these findings could result in “significant cost savings” because one bleeding event would be prevented for every 23 large lesions clipped.

“Considering that clips are expensive and their placement might be technically demanding, prophylactic clipping tailored for a subgroup of higher-risk lesions/patients would decrease in parallel both adverse events and costs,” the investigators concluded.

The investigators reported no external funding or conflicts of interest.

ginews@gastro.org

SOURCE: Spadaccini M et al. Gastroenterology. 2020 Apr 1. doi: 10.1053/j.gastro.2020.03.051.

On April 16, the White House released federal guidelines for reopening American businesses – followed 3 days later by specific recommendations from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services for health care practices in areas with a low incidence of COVID-19. Since then, a slew of resources and guidelines have emerged to help you safely reopen your medical practice.

Depending on where you live, you may have already reopened (or even never closed), or you may be awaiting the relaxation of restrictions in your state. (As I write this on June 10, the stay-at-home order in my state, New Jersey, is being rescinded.)

The big question, of course, is whether patients can be convinced that it is safe to leave their homes and come to your office. The answer may depend on how well you time your reopening and adhere to the appropriate federal, state, and independent guidelines.

The federal guidelines have three sections: criteria, which outline conditions each region or state should satisfy before reopening; preparedness, which lists how states should prepare for reopening; and phase guidelines, which detail responsibilities of individuals and employers during distinct reopening phases.

You should pay the most attention to the “criteria” section. The key question to ask: “Has my state or region satisfied the basic criteria for reopening?”

Those criteria are as follows:

• Symptoms reported within a 14-day period should be on a downward trajectory.
• Cases documented (or positive tests as a percentage of total tests) within a 14-day period should also be on a downward trajectory.
• Hospitals should be treating all patients without crisis care. They should also have a robust testing program in place for at-risk health care workers.

If your area meets these criteria, you can proceed to the CMS recommendations. They cover general advice related to personal protective equipment (PPE), workforce availability, facility considerations, sanitation protocols, supplies, and testing capacity.

The key takeaway: As long as your area has the resources to quickly respond to a surge of COVID-19 cases, you can start offering care to non-COVID patients. Keep seeing patients via telehealth as often as possible, and prioritize surgical/procedural care and high-complexity chronic disease management before moving on to preventive and cosmetic services.

The American Medical Association has issued its own checklist of criteria for reopening your practice to supplement the federal guidelines. Highlights include the following:

• Sit down with a calendar and pick an expected reopening day. Ideally, this should include a “soft reopening.” Make a plan to stock necessary PPE and write down plans for cleaning and staffing if an employee or patient is diagnosed with COVID-19 after visiting your office.
• Take a stepwise approach so you can identify challenges early and address them. It’s important to figure out which visits can continue via telehealth, and begin with just a few in-person visits each day. Plan out a schedule and clearly communicate it to patients, clinicians, and staff.
• Patient safety is your top concern. Encourage patients to visit without companions whenever possible, and of course, all individuals who visit the office should wear a cloth face covering.
• Screen employees for fevers and other symptoms of COVID-19; remember that those records are subject to HIPAA rules and must be kept confidential. Minimize contact between employees as much as possible.
• Do your best to screen patients before in-person visits, to verify they don’t have symptoms of COVID-19. Consider creating a script that office staff can use to contact patients 24 hours before they come in. Use this as a chance to ask about symptoms, and explain any reopening logistics they should know about.
• Contact your malpractice insurance carrier to discuss whether you need to make any changes to your coverage.

This would also be a great time to review your confidentiality, privacy, and data security protocols. COVID-19 presents new challenges for data privacy – for example, if you must inform coworkers or patients that they have come into contact with someone who tested positive. Make a plan that follows HIPAA guidelines during COVID-19. Also, make sure you have a plan for handling issues like paid sick leave or reporting COVID-19 cases to your local health department.

Another useful resource is the Medical Group Management Association’s COVID-19 Medical Practice Reopening Checklist. You can use it to confirm that you are addressing all the important items, and that you haven’t missed anything.

As for me, I am advising patients who are reluctant to seek treatment that many medical problems pose more risk than COVID-19, faster treatment means better outcomes, and because we maintain strict disinfection protocols, they are far less likely to be infected with COVID-19 in my office than, say, at a grocery store.
 

Dr. Eastern practices dermatology and dermatologic surgery in Belleville, N.J. He is the author of numerous articles and textbook chapters, and is a longtime monthly columnist for Dermatology News. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

On April 16, the White House released federal guidelines for reopening American businesses – followed 3 days later by specific recommendations from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services for health care practices in areas with a low incidence of COVID-19. Since then, a slew of resources and guidelines have emerged to help you safely reopen your medical practice.

Depending on where you live, you may have already reopened (or even never closed), or you may be awaiting the relaxation of restrictions in your state. (As I write this on June 10, the stay-at-home order in my state, New Jersey, is being rescinded.)

The big question, of course, is whether patients can be convinced that it is safe to leave their homes and come to your office. The answer may depend on how well you time your reopening and adhere to the appropriate federal, state, and independent guidelines.

The federal guidelines have three sections: criteria, which outline conditions each region or state should satisfy before reopening; preparedness, which lists how states should prepare for reopening; and phase guidelines, which detail responsibilities of individuals and employers during distinct reopening phases.

You should pay the most attention to the “criteria” section. The key question to ask: “Has my state or region satisfied the basic criteria for reopening?”

Those criteria are as follows:

• Symptoms reported within a 14-day period should be on a downward trajectory.
• Cases documented (or positive tests as a percentage of total tests) within a 14-day period should also be on a downward trajectory.
• Hospitals should be treating all patients without crisis care. They should also have a robust testing program in place for at-risk health care workers.

If your area meets these criteria, you can proceed to the CMS recommendations. They cover general advice related to personal protective equipment (PPE), workforce availability, facility considerations, sanitation protocols, supplies, and testing capacity.

The key takeaway: As long as your area has the resources to quickly respond to a surge of COVID-19 cases, you can start offering care to non-COVID patients. Keep seeing patients via telehealth as often as possible, and prioritize surgical/procedural care and high-complexity chronic disease management before moving on to preventive and cosmetic services.

The American Medical Association has issued its own checklist of criteria for reopening your practice to supplement the federal guidelines. Highlights include the following:

• Sit down with a calendar and pick an expected reopening day. Ideally, this should include a “soft reopening.” Make a plan to stock necessary PPE and write down plans for cleaning and staffing if an employee or patient is diagnosed with COVID-19 after visiting your office.
• Take a stepwise approach so you can identify challenges early and address them. It’s important to figure out which visits can continue via telehealth, and begin with just a few in-person visits each day. Plan out a schedule and clearly communicate it to patients, clinicians, and staff.
• Patient safety is your top concern. Encourage patients to visit without companions whenever possible, and of course, all individuals who visit the office should wear a cloth face covering.
• Screen employees for fevers and other symptoms of COVID-19; remember that those records are subject to HIPAA rules and must be kept confidential. Minimize contact between employees as much as possible.
• Do your best to screen patients before in-person visits, to verify they don’t have symptoms of COVID-19. Consider creating a script that office staff can use to contact patients 24 hours before they come in. Use this as a chance to ask about symptoms, and explain any reopening logistics they should know about.
• Contact your malpractice insurance carrier to discuss whether you need to make any changes to your coverage.

This would also be a great time to review your confidentiality, privacy, and data security protocols. COVID-19 presents new challenges for data privacy – for example, if you must inform coworkers or patients that they have come into contact with someone who tested positive. Make a plan that follows HIPAA guidelines during COVID-19. Also, make sure you have a plan for handling issues like paid sick leave or reporting COVID-19 cases to your local health department.

Another useful resource is the Medical Group Management Association’s COVID-19 Medical Practice Reopening Checklist. You can use it to confirm that you are addressing all the important items, and that you haven’t missed anything.

As for me, I am advising patients who are reluctant to seek treatment that many medical problems pose more risk than COVID-19, faster treatment means better outcomes, and because we maintain strict disinfection protocols, they are far less likely to be infected with COVID-19 in my office than, say, at a grocery store.
 

Dr. Eastern practices dermatology and dermatologic surgery in Belleville, N.J. He is the author of numerous articles and textbook chapters, and is a longtime monthly columnist for Dermatology News. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

On April 16, the White House released federal guidelines for reopening American businesses – followed 3 days later by specific recommendations from the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services for health care practices in areas with a low incidence of COVID-19. Since then, a slew of resources and guidelines have emerged to help you safely reopen your medical practice.

Depending on where you live, you may have already reopened (or even never closed), or you may be awaiting the relaxation of restrictions in your state. (As I write this on June 10, the stay-at-home order in my state, New Jersey, is being rescinded.)

The big question, of course, is whether patients can be convinced that it is safe to leave their homes and come to your office. The answer may depend on how well you time your reopening and adhere to the appropriate federal, state, and independent guidelines.

The federal guidelines have three sections: criteria, which outline conditions each region or state should satisfy before reopening; preparedness, which lists how states should prepare for reopening; and phase guidelines, which detail responsibilities of individuals and employers during distinct reopening phases.

You should pay the most attention to the “criteria” section. The key question to ask: “Has my state or region satisfied the basic criteria for reopening?”

Those criteria are as follows:

• Symptoms reported within a 14-day period should be on a downward trajectory.
• Cases documented (or positive tests as a percentage of total tests) within a 14-day period should also be on a downward trajectory.
• Hospitals should be treating all patients without crisis care. They should also have a robust testing program in place for at-risk health care workers.

If your area meets these criteria, you can proceed to the CMS recommendations. They cover general advice related to personal protective equipment (PPE), workforce availability, facility considerations, sanitation protocols, supplies, and testing capacity.

The key takeaway: As long as your area has the resources to quickly respond to a surge of COVID-19 cases, you can start offering care to non-COVID patients. Keep seeing patients via telehealth as often as possible, and prioritize surgical/procedural care and high-complexity chronic disease management before moving on to preventive and cosmetic services.

The American Medical Association has issued its own checklist of criteria for reopening your practice to supplement the federal guidelines. Highlights include the following:

• Sit down with a calendar and pick an expected reopening day. Ideally, this should include a “soft reopening.” Make a plan to stock necessary PPE and write down plans for cleaning and staffing if an employee or patient is diagnosed with COVID-19 after visiting your office.
• Take a stepwise approach so you can identify challenges early and address them. It’s important to figure out which visits can continue via telehealth, and begin with just a few in-person visits each day. Plan out a schedule and clearly communicate it to patients, clinicians, and staff.
• Patient safety is your top concern. Encourage patients to visit without companions whenever possible, and of course, all individuals who visit the office should wear a cloth face covering.
• Screen employees for fevers and other symptoms of COVID-19; remember that those records are subject to HIPAA rules and must be kept confidential. Minimize contact between employees as much as possible.
• Do your best to screen patients before in-person visits, to verify they don’t have symptoms of COVID-19. Consider creating a script that office staff can use to contact patients 24 hours before they come in. Use this as a chance to ask about symptoms, and explain any reopening logistics they should know about.
• Contact your malpractice insurance carrier to discuss whether you need to make any changes to your coverage.

This would also be a great time to review your confidentiality, privacy, and data security protocols. COVID-19 presents new challenges for data privacy – for example, if you must inform coworkers or patients that they have come into contact with someone who tested positive. Make a plan that follows HIPAA guidelines during COVID-19. Also, make sure you have a plan for handling issues like paid sick leave or reporting COVID-19 cases to your local health department.

Another useful resource is the Medical Group Management Association’s COVID-19 Medical Practice Reopening Checklist. You can use it to confirm that you are addressing all the important items, and that you haven’t missed anything.

As for me, I am advising patients who are reluctant to seek treatment that many medical problems pose more risk than COVID-19, faster treatment means better outcomes, and because we maintain strict disinfection protocols, they are far less likely to be infected with COVID-19 in my office than, say, at a grocery store.
 

Dr. Eastern practices dermatology and dermatologic surgery in Belleville, N.J. He is the author of numerous articles and textbook chapters, and is a longtime monthly columnist for Dermatology News. Write to him at dermnews@mdedge.com.

Semglee, a long-acting human insulin analogue, has been approved for glycemic control in adults and children with type 1 diabetes and adults with type 2 diabetes, the Food and Drug Administration announced June 11.

“Long-acting insulin products like insulin glargine play an important role in the treatment of types 1 and 2 diabetes mellitus,” Patrick Archdeacon, MD, acting associate director for therapeutics in the FDA’s Division of Diabetes, Lipid Disorders, and Obesity, said in a written statement via email.

Semglee will be marketed by Mylan Pharmaceuticals and will be available in a multidose 10-mL vial or a single-patient-use 3-mL prefilled pen.

The approval was based primarily on two randomized, confirmatory clinical trials called INSTRIDE1 and INSTRIDE 2, according to a release by Mylan and Biocon Biologic. They compared Semglee (MYL-1501D) to branded insulin glargine (Lantus) in adults and children for 1 year and found no treatment difference.

The FDA noted that, for patients with type 1 diabetes, Semglee must be used along with a short-acting insulin. The recommended starting dose is approximately one-third of the total daily insulin requirement. For those with type 2 diabetes, the starting dose is 0.2 units/kg or up to 10 units once daily, according to the prescribing information.

Semglee is not recommended for treating diabetic ketoacidosis and is contraindicated during episodes of hypoglycemia.

“Today’s approval provides patients with an additional safe and effective treatment option and also expands the number of products that are available to serve as a reference product for a proposed insulin glargine biosimilar or interchangeable biosimilar product now that the biosimilar pathway is available for insulin products following the statutory transition earlier this year,” Dr. Archdeacon said.

rfranki@mdedge.com

Semglee, a long-acting human insulin analogue, has been approved for glycemic control in adults and children with type 1 diabetes and adults with type 2 diabetes, the Food and Drug Administration announced June 11.

“Long-acting insulin products like insulin glargine play an important role in the treatment of types 1 and 2 diabetes mellitus,” Patrick Archdeacon, MD, acting associate director for therapeutics in the FDA’s Division of Diabetes, Lipid Disorders, and Obesity, said in a written statement via email.

Semglee will be marketed by Mylan Pharmaceuticals and will be available in a multidose 10-mL vial or a single-patient-use 3-mL prefilled pen.

The approval was based primarily on two randomized, confirmatory clinical trials called INSTRIDE1 and INSTRIDE 2, according to a release by Mylan and Biocon Biologic. They compared Semglee (MYL-1501D) to branded insulin glargine (Lantus) in adults and children for 1 year and found no treatment difference.

The FDA noted that, for patients with type 1 diabetes, Semglee must be used along with a short-acting insulin. The recommended starting dose is approximately one-third of the total daily insulin requirement. For those with type 2 diabetes, the starting dose is 0.2 units/kg or up to 10 units once daily, according to the prescribing information.

Semglee is not recommended for treating diabetic ketoacidosis and is contraindicated during episodes of hypoglycemia.

“Today’s approval provides patients with an additional safe and effective treatment option and also expands the number of products that are available to serve as a reference product for a proposed insulin glargine biosimilar or interchangeable biosimilar product now that the biosimilar pathway is available for insulin products following the statutory transition earlier this year,” Dr. Archdeacon said.

rfranki@mdedge.com

Semglee, a long-acting human insulin analogue, has been approved for glycemic control in adults and children with type 1 diabetes and adults with type 2 diabetes, the Food and Drug Administration announced June 11.

“Long-acting insulin products like insulin glargine play an important role in the treatment of types 1 and 2 diabetes mellitus,” Patrick Archdeacon, MD, acting associate director for therapeutics in the FDA’s Division of Diabetes, Lipid Disorders, and Obesity, said in a written statement via email.

Semglee will be marketed by Mylan Pharmaceuticals and will be available in a multidose 10-mL vial or a single-patient-use 3-mL prefilled pen.

The approval was based primarily on two randomized, confirmatory clinical trials called INSTRIDE1 and INSTRIDE 2, according to a release by Mylan and Biocon Biologic. They compared Semglee (MYL-1501D) to branded insulin glargine (Lantus) in adults and children for 1 year and found no treatment difference.

The FDA noted that, for patients with type 1 diabetes, Semglee must be used along with a short-acting insulin. The recommended starting dose is approximately one-third of the total daily insulin requirement. For those with type 2 diabetes, the starting dose is 0.2 units/kg or up to 10 units once daily, according to the prescribing information.

Semglee is not recommended for treating diabetic ketoacidosis and is contraindicated during episodes of hypoglycemia.

“Today’s approval provides patients with an additional safe and effective treatment option and also expands the number of products that are available to serve as a reference product for a proposed insulin glargine biosimilar or interchangeable biosimilar product now that the biosimilar pathway is available for insulin products following the statutory transition earlier this year,” Dr. Archdeacon said.

rfranki@mdedge.com

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

“Hey there – just checking on you and letting you know I’m thinking of you."

"I know words don't suffice right now. You are in my thoughts."

"If there's any way that I can be of support or if there's something you need, just let me know."

The texts and emails have come in waves. Pinging into my already distracted headspace when, like them, I’m supposed to be focused on a Zoom or WebEx department meeting. These somber reminders underscore what I have known for years but struggled to describe with each new “justice for” hashtag accompanying the name of the latest unarmed black person to die. This is grief.

With every headline in prior years, as black Americans we have usually found solace in our collective fellowship of suffering. Social media timelines become flooded with our own amen choirs and outrage along with words of comfort and inspiration. We remind ourselves of the prior atrocities survived by our people. And like them, we vow to rally; clinging to one other and praying to make it to shore. Though intermittently joined by a smattering of allies, our suffering has mostly been a private, repetitive mourning.
 

The two pandemics

The year 2020 ushered in a new decade along with the novel SARS-CoV2 (COVID-19) global pandemic. In addition to the thousands of lives that have been lost in the United States alone, COVID-19 brought with it a disruption of life in ways never seen by most generations. Schools and businesses were closed to mitigate spread. Mandatory shelter-in-place orders coupled with physical distancing recommendations limited human interactions and canceled everything from hospital visitations to graduations, intergenerational family gatherings, conferences, and weddings. As the data expanded, it quickly became apparent that minorities, particularly black Americans, shouldered a disproportionate burden of COVID-19. Known health disparities were amplified.

While caring for our patients as black physicians in the time of coronavirus, silently we mourned again. The connection and trust once found through racial concordance was now masked figuratively and literally by personal protective equipment (PPE). We ignored the sting of intimations that the staggering numbers of African Americans hospitalized and dying from COVID-19 could be explained by lack of discipline or, worse, genetic differences by race. Years of disenfranchisement and missed economic opportunities forced large numbers of our patients and loved ones out on the front lines to do essential jobs – but without the celebratory cheers or fanfare enjoyed by others. Frantic phone calls from family and acquaintances interrupted our quiet drives home from emotionally grueling shifts in the hospital – each conversation serving as our personal evidence of COVID-19 and her ruthless ravage of the black community. Add to this trying to serve as cultural bridges between the complexities of medical distrust and patient advocacy along with wrestling with our own vulnerability as potential COVID-19 patients, these have been overwhelming times to say the least.

Then came the acute decompensation of the chronic racism we’d always known in the form of three recent killings of more unarmed African Americans. On March 13, 2020, 26-year-old Breonna Taylor was shot after police forcibly entered her home after midnight on a “no knock” warrant. The story was buried in the news of COVID-19 – but we knew. Later we’d learn that 26-year-old Ahmaud Arbery was shot and killed by armed neighbors while running through a Brunswick, Georgia, neighborhood. His death on Feb. 23, 2020, initially yielded no criminal charges. Then, on May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a 46-year-old father arrested for suspected use of a counterfeit $20 bill, died after a law enforcement official kneeled with his full body weight upon Floyd’s neck for more than 8 minutes. The deaths of Arbery and Floyd were captured by cell phone cameras which, aided by social media, quickly reached the eyes of the entire world.

At first, it seemed plausible that this would be like it always has been. A black mother would stand before a podium filled with multiple microphones crying out in anguish. She would be flanked by community leaders and attorneys demanding justice. Hashtags would be formed. Our people would stand up or kneel down in solidarity – holding fast to our historic resilience. Evanescent allies would appear with signs on lawns and held high over heads. A few weeks would pass by and things would go back to normal. Black people would be left with what always remains: heads bowed and praying at dinner tables petitioning a higher power for protection followed by reaffirmations of what, if anything, could be done to keep our own mamas away from that podium. We’ve learned to treat the grief of racism as endemic to us alone, knowing that it has been a pandemic all along.
 

Dr. Manning is a professor of medicine and the associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University in Atlanta, where she also is a hospitalist at Grady Memorial Hospital. To read the full version of this article, visit the Journal of Hospital Medicine, where it first appeared (doi: 10.12788/jhm.3481).

Subcutaneous hepatitis A vaccination is as effective and may be safer for patients with bleeding disorders, according to a study by Mayumi Nakasone, MD, and colleagues.

MarianVejcik/Getty Images

The large number of donor exposures in bleeding disorder patients who require routine use of clotting factor concentrates remains a concern with regard to the risk of virus infection. Therefore, vaccinations for viruses such as hepatitis A are recommended. Although the intramuscular (IM) route is recommended for hepatitis A vaccination, patients with bleeding disorders have been advised to avoid IM injections because of the risk of bleeding and bruising of muscles, requiring infusion of clotting factor concentrates or other blood products for its treatment, according to Dr. Nakasone of the University of São Paulo and colleagues. They assessed 78 adult and pediatric patients with blood disorders randomized to vaccination for hepatitis A either subcutaneously (SC) or IM, according their study published on Vaccine.

The study was conducted at a single hemophilia center between May 2006 and February 2017.

Among the 78 patients, 58 (74.4%) presented hemophilia A (34 of the SC group and 24 of the IM group), 13 (16.7%) hemophilia B (4 of the SC group and 9 of the IM group) and 7 (8.9%) other bleeding disorders. There were no statistically significant differences between the SC and the IM groups in patients diagnosis or sex.

A total of 38 patients had serology performed after the first vaccine dose, determining seroconversion rates of 83.3% and 90.0% for the SC and the IM group, respectively, a nonsignificant difference. After the second vaccine dose, the seroconversion rate for the SC group was 97.5% and for the IM group was 97.4%, also a nonsignificant difference.

At a median of 9 years after a second vaccine dose, antibody titers for the SC group were slightly greater than the IM group (7.6 vs. 7.4), but this was also not a significant difference. There were no serious adverse events in both groups, according to Dr. Nakasone and colleagues. And although twice as many patients of the IM group required clotting factor concentrates for adverse events, compared with the SC group (15.8% vs. 7.5%), the difference was not significant.

“Hepatitis A vaccine administered subcutaneously is as immunogenic, long-term protective, and even safer as the intramuscular route for both children and adults not only with hemophilia, but also with other bleeding disorders,” the researchers concluded.

The authors declared that they had no disclosures.

mlesney@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Nakasone M et al. Vaccine 2020;38:4162-6.

Subcutaneous hepatitis A vaccination is as effective and may be safer for patients with bleeding disorders, according to a study by Mayumi Nakasone, MD, and colleagues.

MarianVejcik/Getty Images

The large number of donor exposures in bleeding disorder patients who require routine use of clotting factor concentrates remains a concern with regard to the risk of virus infection. Therefore, vaccinations for viruses such as hepatitis A are recommended. Although the intramuscular (IM) route is recommended for hepatitis A vaccination, patients with bleeding disorders have been advised to avoid IM injections because of the risk of bleeding and bruising of muscles, requiring infusion of clotting factor concentrates or other blood products for its treatment, according to Dr. Nakasone of the University of São Paulo and colleagues. They assessed 78 adult and pediatric patients with blood disorders randomized to vaccination for hepatitis A either subcutaneously (SC) or IM, according their study published on Vaccine.

The study was conducted at a single hemophilia center between May 2006 and February 2017.

Among the 78 patients, 58 (74.4%) presented hemophilia A (34 of the SC group and 24 of the IM group), 13 (16.7%) hemophilia B (4 of the SC group and 9 of the IM group) and 7 (8.9%) other bleeding disorders. There were no statistically significant differences between the SC and the IM groups in patients diagnosis or sex.

A total of 38 patients had serology performed after the first vaccine dose, determining seroconversion rates of 83.3% and 90.0% for the SC and the IM group, respectively, a nonsignificant difference. After the second vaccine dose, the seroconversion rate for the SC group was 97.5% and for the IM group was 97.4%, also a nonsignificant difference.

At a median of 9 years after a second vaccine dose, antibody titers for the SC group were slightly greater than the IM group (7.6 vs. 7.4), but this was also not a significant difference. There were no serious adverse events in both groups, according to Dr. Nakasone and colleagues. And although twice as many patients of the IM group required clotting factor concentrates for adverse events, compared with the SC group (15.8% vs. 7.5%), the difference was not significant.

“Hepatitis A vaccine administered subcutaneously is as immunogenic, long-term protective, and even safer as the intramuscular route for both children and adults not only with hemophilia, but also with other bleeding disorders,” the researchers concluded.

The authors declared that they had no disclosures.

mlesney@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Nakasone M et al. Vaccine 2020;38:4162-6.

Subcutaneous hepatitis A vaccination is as effective and may be safer for patients with bleeding disorders, according to a study by Mayumi Nakasone, MD, and colleagues.

MarianVejcik/Getty Images

The large number of donor exposures in bleeding disorder patients who require routine use of clotting factor concentrates remains a concern with regard to the risk of virus infection. Therefore, vaccinations for viruses such as hepatitis A are recommended. Although the intramuscular (IM) route is recommended for hepatitis A vaccination, patients with bleeding disorders have been advised to avoid IM injections because of the risk of bleeding and bruising of muscles, requiring infusion of clotting factor concentrates or other blood products for its treatment, according to Dr. Nakasone of the University of São Paulo and colleagues. They assessed 78 adult and pediatric patients with blood disorders randomized to vaccination for hepatitis A either subcutaneously (SC) or IM, according their study published on Vaccine.

The study was conducted at a single hemophilia center between May 2006 and February 2017.

Among the 78 patients, 58 (74.4%) presented hemophilia A (34 of the SC group and 24 of the IM group), 13 (16.7%) hemophilia B (4 of the SC group and 9 of the IM group) and 7 (8.9%) other bleeding disorders. There were no statistically significant differences between the SC and the IM groups in patients diagnosis or sex.

A total of 38 patients had serology performed after the first vaccine dose, determining seroconversion rates of 83.3% and 90.0% for the SC and the IM group, respectively, a nonsignificant difference. After the second vaccine dose, the seroconversion rate for the SC group was 97.5% and for the IM group was 97.4%, also a nonsignificant difference.

At a median of 9 years after a second vaccine dose, antibody titers for the SC group were slightly greater than the IM group (7.6 vs. 7.4), but this was also not a significant difference. There were no serious adverse events in both groups, according to Dr. Nakasone and colleagues. And although twice as many patients of the IM group required clotting factor concentrates for adverse events, compared with the SC group (15.8% vs. 7.5%), the difference was not significant.

“Hepatitis A vaccine administered subcutaneously is as immunogenic, long-term protective, and even safer as the intramuscular route for both children and adults not only with hemophilia, but also with other bleeding disorders,” the researchers concluded.

The authors declared that they had no disclosures.

mlesney@mdedge.com

SOURCE: Nakasone M et al. Vaccine 2020;38:4162-6.