Practice Management

Working to mitigate racial and gender inequity in hospital medicine may seem like a daunting task, but every physician can play a role in turning the tide toward equity, according to Jorge Ganem, MD, FAAP.

“Talking about bias, racism, sexism, gender inequity, and health disparities is difficult,” Dr. Ganem, associate professor of pediatrics at the University of Texas at Austin and director of pediatric hospital medicine at Dell Children’s Medical Center in Austin, said May 5 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine. “There certainly comes a heavy weight and responsibility that we all feel. But I believe that we should approach gender inequities and racial disparities through a quality and patient safety lens, and looking through that lens.”

Dr. Ganem – along with Vanessa Durand, DO, FAAP, of St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia, and Yemisi O. Jones, MD, FAAP, FHM, of Cincinnati Children’s Hospital – devised the concept of “functional allyship” as one way to improve representation in hospital medicine. The approach consists of three categories: listeners, amplifiers, and champions. Listeners are “those who take the time to listen and give space to the voices who are oppressed and disadvantaged,” Dr. Ganem said. “Action may not always be possible, but the space gives those who are marginalized validation to the feelings that the oppression produces.”

He described amplifiers as those who use their position of privilege to spread the message by educating their colleagues and other peers. “This includes elevating those from marginalized communities to speak on their own behalf and giving them the spotlight, given their expertise,” he said.

Champions are those who actively work to dismantle the oppression within systems. Dr. Ganem cited organizations such as ADVANCE PHM, FEMinEM and HeForShe as examples of national and global efforts, “but this also includes those working in committees that are addressing diversity and inclusion in their workplace and coming up with policies and procedures to increase equity,” he said.

Finding opportunities to practice mentorship and sponsorship are also important. “Positive mentorship relationships are key in avoiding burnout and decreasing attrition,” he said. “The development of successful mentorship programs are a must in order to retain women physicians and ‘underrepresented in medicine’ physicians in your organization.” He described a “sponsor” as someone who is in a position of influence and power who actively supports the career of a “protégé” whom they have identified as having high potential. “The sponsor may advance a protégé’s career by nominating them for leadership opportunities and introducing them into career networks,” he said.

Dr. Durand discussed additional ways to improve disparities of gender, race, and ethnicity. “It can all start with measuring the data,” said Dr. Durand, also an assistant professor of pediatrics at Drexel University, Philadelphia. “This means looking at gender and race and ethnicity data by unit or section at your institution, as well as leadership positions.” In 2017, authors led by Hilary Sanfey, MBBBCh, MHPE, FACS, published an article addressing strategies to identify and close the gender salary gap in surgery (J Am Coll Surg. 2017;225[2]:333-8). Their recommendations included changing policies, transparency, oversight of metrics, promoting women to senior leadership positions, and evaluating the organizational culture. “It goes back to culture, because it leads to accountability,” Dr. Durand said. “Behavior change comes with accountability.”

Part of holding people accountable within a culture change includes addressing microaggressions, or indirect expressions of prejudice. In 2016, authors led by Floyd Cheung, PhD., established a framework using the acronym A.C.T.I.O.N., which identifies a microaggression without being aggressive or evoking defensiveness towards the person communicating the microaggression. A.C.T.I.O.N. stands for Ask clarifying questions; Come from curiosity, not judgment; Tell what you observed in a factual manner; Impact exploration – discuss what the impact was; Own your own thoughts and feelings around the situation; and discuss Next steps.

“Granted, this might take a little time, but when we state microaggressions, most of us don’t realize that those statements could be hurtful or uncomfortable for the person receiving them,” Dr. Durand said.

Another strategy to address disparities involves partially blinding the interview process for trainees. “You can do this by not giving any ‘cognitive information’ to your interviewers – such as United States Medical Licensing Examination Step scores – that may anchor their position prior to the interview taking place,” she explained. “You can also standardize one or two questions that all interviewees have to answer, to have a more objective way to compare answers horizontally rather than vertically.”

This complements the notion of the Association of American Medical Colleges’ “holistic review,” a principle that it describes as allowing admissions committees “to consider the ‘whole’ applicant, rather than disproportionately focusing on any one factor.”

“The overall concept is to evaluate what are criteria of the position you are hiring for,” Dr. Durand said. “Different criteria will have different levels of importance. You would take into consideration the values of the group or the institution and make sure those criteria are most important for selection, at the forefront.”

Dr. Ganem and Dr. Durand reported having no financial disclosures.

Working to mitigate racial and gender inequity in hospital medicine may seem like a daunting task, but every physician can play a role in turning the tide toward equity, according to Jorge Ganem, MD, FAAP.

“Talking about bias, racism, sexism, gender inequity, and health disparities is difficult,” Dr. Ganem, associate professor of pediatrics at the University of Texas at Austin and director of pediatric hospital medicine at Dell Children’s Medical Center in Austin, said May 5 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine. “There certainly comes a heavy weight and responsibility that we all feel. But I believe that we should approach gender inequities and racial disparities through a quality and patient safety lens, and looking through that lens.”

Dr. Ganem – along with Vanessa Durand, DO, FAAP, of St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia, and Yemisi O. Jones, MD, FAAP, FHM, of Cincinnati Children’s Hospital – devised the concept of “functional allyship” as one way to improve representation in hospital medicine. The approach consists of three categories: listeners, amplifiers, and champions. Listeners are “those who take the time to listen and give space to the voices who are oppressed and disadvantaged,” Dr. Ganem said. “Action may not always be possible, but the space gives those who are marginalized validation to the feelings that the oppression produces.”

He described amplifiers as those who use their position of privilege to spread the message by educating their colleagues and other peers. “This includes elevating those from marginalized communities to speak on their own behalf and giving them the spotlight, given their expertise,” he said.

Champions are those who actively work to dismantle the oppression within systems. Dr. Ganem cited organizations such as ADVANCE PHM, FEMinEM and HeForShe as examples of national and global efforts, “but this also includes those working in committees that are addressing diversity and inclusion in their workplace and coming up with policies and procedures to increase equity,” he said.

Finding opportunities to practice mentorship and sponsorship are also important. “Positive mentorship relationships are key in avoiding burnout and decreasing attrition,” he said. “The development of successful mentorship programs are a must in order to retain women physicians and ‘underrepresented in medicine’ physicians in your organization.” He described a “sponsor” as someone who is in a position of influence and power who actively supports the career of a “protégé” whom they have identified as having high potential. “The sponsor may advance a protégé’s career by nominating them for leadership opportunities and introducing them into career networks,” he said.

Dr. Durand discussed additional ways to improve disparities of gender, race, and ethnicity. “It can all start with measuring the data,” said Dr. Durand, also an assistant professor of pediatrics at Drexel University, Philadelphia. “This means looking at gender and race and ethnicity data by unit or section at your institution, as well as leadership positions.” In 2017, authors led by Hilary Sanfey, MBBBCh, MHPE, FACS, published an article addressing strategies to identify and close the gender salary gap in surgery (J Am Coll Surg. 2017;225[2]:333-8). Their recommendations included changing policies, transparency, oversight of metrics, promoting women to senior leadership positions, and evaluating the organizational culture. “It goes back to culture, because it leads to accountability,” Dr. Durand said. “Behavior change comes with accountability.”

Part of holding people accountable within a culture change includes addressing microaggressions, or indirect expressions of prejudice. In 2016, authors led by Floyd Cheung, PhD., established a framework using the acronym A.C.T.I.O.N., which identifies a microaggression without being aggressive or evoking defensiveness towards the person communicating the microaggression. A.C.T.I.O.N. stands for Ask clarifying questions; Come from curiosity, not judgment; Tell what you observed in a factual manner; Impact exploration – discuss what the impact was; Own your own thoughts and feelings around the situation; and discuss Next steps.

“Granted, this might take a little time, but when we state microaggressions, most of us don’t realize that those statements could be hurtful or uncomfortable for the person receiving them,” Dr. Durand said.

Another strategy to address disparities involves partially blinding the interview process for trainees. “You can do this by not giving any ‘cognitive information’ to your interviewers – such as United States Medical Licensing Examination Step scores – that may anchor their position prior to the interview taking place,” she explained. “You can also standardize one or two questions that all interviewees have to answer, to have a more objective way to compare answers horizontally rather than vertically.”

This complements the notion of the Association of American Medical Colleges’ “holistic review,” a principle that it describes as allowing admissions committees “to consider the ‘whole’ applicant, rather than disproportionately focusing on any one factor.”

“The overall concept is to evaluate what are criteria of the position you are hiring for,” Dr. Durand said. “Different criteria will have different levels of importance. You would take into consideration the values of the group or the institution and make sure those criteria are most important for selection, at the forefront.”

Dr. Ganem and Dr. Durand reported having no financial disclosures.

Working to mitigate racial and gender inequity in hospital medicine may seem like a daunting task, but every physician can play a role in turning the tide toward equity, according to Jorge Ganem, MD, FAAP.

“Talking about bias, racism, sexism, gender inequity, and health disparities is difficult,” Dr. Ganem, associate professor of pediatrics at the University of Texas at Austin and director of pediatric hospital medicine at Dell Children’s Medical Center in Austin, said May 5 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine. “There certainly comes a heavy weight and responsibility that we all feel. But I believe that we should approach gender inequities and racial disparities through a quality and patient safety lens, and looking through that lens.”

Dr. Ganem – along with Vanessa Durand, DO, FAAP, of St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children in Philadelphia, and Yemisi O. Jones, MD, FAAP, FHM, of Cincinnati Children’s Hospital – devised the concept of “functional allyship” as one way to improve representation in hospital medicine. The approach consists of three categories: listeners, amplifiers, and champions. Listeners are “those who take the time to listen and give space to the voices who are oppressed and disadvantaged,” Dr. Ganem said. “Action may not always be possible, but the space gives those who are marginalized validation to the feelings that the oppression produces.”

He described amplifiers as those who use their position of privilege to spread the message by educating their colleagues and other peers. “This includes elevating those from marginalized communities to speak on their own behalf and giving them the spotlight, given their expertise,” he said.

Champions are those who actively work to dismantle the oppression within systems. Dr. Ganem cited organizations such as ADVANCE PHM, FEMinEM and HeForShe as examples of national and global efforts, “but this also includes those working in committees that are addressing diversity and inclusion in their workplace and coming up with policies and procedures to increase equity,” he said.

Finding opportunities to practice mentorship and sponsorship are also important. “Positive mentorship relationships are key in avoiding burnout and decreasing attrition,” he said. “The development of successful mentorship programs are a must in order to retain women physicians and ‘underrepresented in medicine’ physicians in your organization.” He described a “sponsor” as someone who is in a position of influence and power who actively supports the career of a “protégé” whom they have identified as having high potential. “The sponsor may advance a protégé’s career by nominating them for leadership opportunities and introducing them into career networks,” he said.

Dr. Durand discussed additional ways to improve disparities of gender, race, and ethnicity. “It can all start with measuring the data,” said Dr. Durand, also an assistant professor of pediatrics at Drexel University, Philadelphia. “This means looking at gender and race and ethnicity data by unit or section at your institution, as well as leadership positions.” In 2017, authors led by Hilary Sanfey, MBBBCh, MHPE, FACS, published an article addressing strategies to identify and close the gender salary gap in surgery (J Am Coll Surg. 2017;225[2]:333-8). Their recommendations included changing policies, transparency, oversight of metrics, promoting women to senior leadership positions, and evaluating the organizational culture. “It goes back to culture, because it leads to accountability,” Dr. Durand said. “Behavior change comes with accountability.”

Part of holding people accountable within a culture change includes addressing microaggressions, or indirect expressions of prejudice. In 2016, authors led by Floyd Cheung, PhD., established a framework using the acronym A.C.T.I.O.N., which identifies a microaggression without being aggressive or evoking defensiveness towards the person communicating the microaggression. A.C.T.I.O.N. stands for Ask clarifying questions; Come from curiosity, not judgment; Tell what you observed in a factual manner; Impact exploration – discuss what the impact was; Own your own thoughts and feelings around the situation; and discuss Next steps.

“Granted, this might take a little time, but when we state microaggressions, most of us don’t realize that those statements could be hurtful or uncomfortable for the person receiving them,” Dr. Durand said.

Another strategy to address disparities involves partially blinding the interview process for trainees. “You can do this by not giving any ‘cognitive information’ to your interviewers – such as United States Medical Licensing Examination Step scores – that may anchor their position prior to the interview taking place,” she explained. “You can also standardize one or two questions that all interviewees have to answer, to have a more objective way to compare answers horizontally rather than vertically.”

This complements the notion of the Association of American Medical Colleges’ “holistic review,” a principle that it describes as allowing admissions committees “to consider the ‘whole’ applicant, rather than disproportionately focusing on any one factor.”

“The overall concept is to evaluate what are criteria of the position you are hiring for,” Dr. Durand said. “Different criteria will have different levels of importance. You would take into consideration the values of the group or the institution and make sure those criteria are most important for selection, at the forefront.”

Dr. Ganem and Dr. Durand reported having no financial disclosures.

Earlier this spring, Kimberly D. Manning, MD, FACP, FAAP, was caring for an elderly Black man with multiple comorbidities at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, assembling an order for medications and a discharge plan.

“It was very challenging,” Dr. Manning, professor of medicine and associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University, Atlanta, recalled during a May 4 session at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

At one point, the patient glanced at her, shrugged, and said: “You know, Doc, we get in where we fit in.”

“He was talking about the idea that people who come from historically disadvantaged backgrounds just have to try to figure it out, have to try to make a dollar out of 15 cents,” Dr. Manning said. “This, to me, really underscores what we mean when we say health disparities, this idea that there are people who are working hard and doing the best that they can but who still are forced to ‘get in where they fit in.’”

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention defines health disparities as preventable differences in the burden of disease, injury, violence, or opportunities to achieve optimal health that are experienced by socially disadvantaged populations. “When we think about health disparities we often think about many diagnoses,” Dr. Manning continued. “We think about HIV and the disparate care and outcomes we’ve seen in populations of individuals who come from minority backgrounds. We see disparities in obesity, cancer, cardiovascular disease, infant mortality and maternal death, hospital readmissions, and COVID-19. We know that people who do not have access to health care or to healthy neighborhoods and environments or who are economically disadvantaged have poorer outcomes. It plays out with all of these diagnoses.”

In her opinion, health disparities in hospital medicine fall into in one of three buckets: diagnosis and triage, hospital stay and treatment, and sticking the landing – “that is, after a patient leaves the hospital,” Dr. Manning explained. “The hospital stay is the turn on the balance beam. You can do everything perfectly, but then you must dismount. To score a ‘10’ you have to stick the landing. That means being able to get your medications, being able to get to and from clinic appointments, being able to understand the directions you’ve been given. All of these things are intertwined, the inpatient and outpatient care.”

The roots of health disparities in hospitalized patients stem from centuries ago, she said, when America’s health care system was built to benefit white male landowners and their families. Health care for Blacks, on the other hand, “was focused on function, almost like veterinary care, or experimentation,” Dr. Manning said. “After slavery ended, many historically Black institutions of higher learning opened, including medical schools. In 1909, there were seven historically Black medical schools. Acknowledging the history that preceded disparities is essential.”

In her view, the path to improving health care disparities starts with conceding that structural racism exists in the practice of medicine. “This means that health disparities are connected to systemic and individual issues, including our biases,” Dr. Manning said. “Our system was built on this idea that there is greater value of one group of people above others. Access to care, physician workforce, and biases are impacted by system design. Health equity and health equality are not the same.”

She also underscored the importance of the social determinants of health, or “those things we need to be healthy,” including economic stability, neighborhood and physical environment, educational opportunities, access to good food, community and social context, and the idea of health care as a human right and understanding our health care system. “This is what is necessary,” she declared. “Without all of these together, we can’t have the health outcomes that we desire.”

As hospital leaders work to build a more diverse physician workforce, Dr. Manning emphasized the importance of forming antiracism policies by addressing questions such as what will we not stand for? How will we protect and create psychologically safe environments? What is our commitment to diversity in leadership and in trainees? What is our commitment to implicit bias training and bystander training?

“We have to get uncomfortable enough to advocate with urgency because all of these are necessary factors to mitigate health disparities,” she said. “Though the systemic issues are the most urgent, on an individual level, we must continue to disrupt the negative ideology and stereotypes that threaten our environment every day. When we see those negative things, we have to call them out. We need to continue to listen, to humanize those things that are happening around us, and to understand historical context.”

Dr. Manning reported having no financial disclosures.

Earlier this spring, Kimberly D. Manning, MD, FACP, FAAP, was caring for an elderly Black man with multiple comorbidities at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, assembling an order for medications and a discharge plan.

“It was very challenging,” Dr. Manning, professor of medicine and associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University, Atlanta, recalled during a May 4 session at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

At one point, the patient glanced at her, shrugged, and said: “You know, Doc, we get in where we fit in.”

“He was talking about the idea that people who come from historically disadvantaged backgrounds just have to try to figure it out, have to try to make a dollar out of 15 cents,” Dr. Manning said. “This, to me, really underscores what we mean when we say health disparities, this idea that there are people who are working hard and doing the best that they can but who still are forced to ‘get in where they fit in.’”

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention defines health disparities as preventable differences in the burden of disease, injury, violence, or opportunities to achieve optimal health that are experienced by socially disadvantaged populations. “When we think about health disparities we often think about many diagnoses,” Dr. Manning continued. “We think about HIV and the disparate care and outcomes we’ve seen in populations of individuals who come from minority backgrounds. We see disparities in obesity, cancer, cardiovascular disease, infant mortality and maternal death, hospital readmissions, and COVID-19. We know that people who do not have access to health care or to healthy neighborhoods and environments or who are economically disadvantaged have poorer outcomes. It plays out with all of these diagnoses.”

In her opinion, health disparities in hospital medicine fall into in one of three buckets: diagnosis and triage, hospital stay and treatment, and sticking the landing – “that is, after a patient leaves the hospital,” Dr. Manning explained. “The hospital stay is the turn on the balance beam. You can do everything perfectly, but then you must dismount. To score a ‘10’ you have to stick the landing. That means being able to get your medications, being able to get to and from clinic appointments, being able to understand the directions you’ve been given. All of these things are intertwined, the inpatient and outpatient care.”

The roots of health disparities in hospitalized patients stem from centuries ago, she said, when America’s health care system was built to benefit white male landowners and their families. Health care for Blacks, on the other hand, “was focused on function, almost like veterinary care, or experimentation,” Dr. Manning said. “After slavery ended, many historically Black institutions of higher learning opened, including medical schools. In 1909, there were seven historically Black medical schools. Acknowledging the history that preceded disparities is essential.”

In her view, the path to improving health care disparities starts with conceding that structural racism exists in the practice of medicine. “This means that health disparities are connected to systemic and individual issues, including our biases,” Dr. Manning said. “Our system was built on this idea that there is greater value of one group of people above others. Access to care, physician workforce, and biases are impacted by system design. Health equity and health equality are not the same.”

She also underscored the importance of the social determinants of health, or “those things we need to be healthy,” including economic stability, neighborhood and physical environment, educational opportunities, access to good food, community and social context, and the idea of health care as a human right and understanding our health care system. “This is what is necessary,” she declared. “Without all of these together, we can’t have the health outcomes that we desire.”

As hospital leaders work to build a more diverse physician workforce, Dr. Manning emphasized the importance of forming antiracism policies by addressing questions such as what will we not stand for? How will we protect and create psychologically safe environments? What is our commitment to diversity in leadership and in trainees? What is our commitment to implicit bias training and bystander training?

“We have to get uncomfortable enough to advocate with urgency because all of these are necessary factors to mitigate health disparities,” she said. “Though the systemic issues are the most urgent, on an individual level, we must continue to disrupt the negative ideology and stereotypes that threaten our environment every day. When we see those negative things, we have to call them out. We need to continue to listen, to humanize those things that are happening around us, and to understand historical context.”

Dr. Manning reported having no financial disclosures.

Earlier this spring, Kimberly D. Manning, MD, FACP, FAAP, was caring for an elderly Black man with multiple comorbidities at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, assembling an order for medications and a discharge plan.

“It was very challenging,” Dr. Manning, professor of medicine and associate vice chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion at Emory University, Atlanta, recalled during a May 4 session at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

At one point, the patient glanced at her, shrugged, and said: “You know, Doc, we get in where we fit in.”

“He was talking about the idea that people who come from historically disadvantaged backgrounds just have to try to figure it out, have to try to make a dollar out of 15 cents,” Dr. Manning said. “This, to me, really underscores what we mean when we say health disparities, this idea that there are people who are working hard and doing the best that they can but who still are forced to ‘get in where they fit in.’”

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention defines health disparities as preventable differences in the burden of disease, injury, violence, or opportunities to achieve optimal health that are experienced by socially disadvantaged populations. “When we think about health disparities we often think about many diagnoses,” Dr. Manning continued. “We think about HIV and the disparate care and outcomes we’ve seen in populations of individuals who come from minority backgrounds. We see disparities in obesity, cancer, cardiovascular disease, infant mortality and maternal death, hospital readmissions, and COVID-19. We know that people who do not have access to health care or to healthy neighborhoods and environments or who are economically disadvantaged have poorer outcomes. It plays out with all of these diagnoses.”

In her opinion, health disparities in hospital medicine fall into in one of three buckets: diagnosis and triage, hospital stay and treatment, and sticking the landing – “that is, after a patient leaves the hospital,” Dr. Manning explained. “The hospital stay is the turn on the balance beam. You can do everything perfectly, but then you must dismount. To score a ‘10’ you have to stick the landing. That means being able to get your medications, being able to get to and from clinic appointments, being able to understand the directions you’ve been given. All of these things are intertwined, the inpatient and outpatient care.”

The roots of health disparities in hospitalized patients stem from centuries ago, she said, when America’s health care system was built to benefit white male landowners and their families. Health care for Blacks, on the other hand, “was focused on function, almost like veterinary care, or experimentation,” Dr. Manning said. “After slavery ended, many historically Black institutions of higher learning opened, including medical schools. In 1909, there were seven historically Black medical schools. Acknowledging the history that preceded disparities is essential.”

In her view, the path to improving health care disparities starts with conceding that structural racism exists in the practice of medicine. “This means that health disparities are connected to systemic and individual issues, including our biases,” Dr. Manning said. “Our system was built on this idea that there is greater value of one group of people above others. Access to care, physician workforce, and biases are impacted by system design. Health equity and health equality are not the same.”

She also underscored the importance of the social determinants of health, or “those things we need to be healthy,” including economic stability, neighborhood and physical environment, educational opportunities, access to good food, community and social context, and the idea of health care as a human right and understanding our health care system. “This is what is necessary,” she declared. “Without all of these together, we can’t have the health outcomes that we desire.”

As hospital leaders work to build a more diverse physician workforce, Dr. Manning emphasized the importance of forming antiracism policies by addressing questions such as what will we not stand for? How will we protect and create psychologically safe environments? What is our commitment to diversity in leadership and in trainees? What is our commitment to implicit bias training and bystander training?

“We have to get uncomfortable enough to advocate with urgency because all of these are necessary factors to mitigate health disparities,” she said. “Though the systemic issues are the most urgent, on an individual level, we must continue to disrupt the negative ideology and stereotypes that threaten our environment every day. When we see those negative things, we have to call them out. We need to continue to listen, to humanize those things that are happening around us, and to understand historical context.”

Dr. Manning reported having no financial disclosures.

Whether they realize it or not, hospitalists treating patients during the COVID-19 pandemic have been in a combat-like situation, with challenges and stresses similar to those faced by soldiers in a war zone.

And now, as the pandemic shows signs of subsiding, they’re about to emerge from this fight, which poses a whole new set of challenges, according a retired U.S. Army general who spoke May 4 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

Lt. Gen. (Ret.) Mark Hertling, DBA, said during his keynote speech that clinicians and soldiers – the only two professions that routinely have to navigate through life and death situations – must lead during all phases of combat.

“This is a period where you’re going to experience some things that you may or may not be ready for,” he said. “These are the same kind of issues soldiers face when redeploying from a combat zone.”

To help draw the comparison between hospitalists during the COVID-19 era and troops during a war, Lt. Gen. Hertling showed a photo of a U.S. paratrooper who’d just dropped into northern Iraq, carrying a backpack engorged with gear. He was on one knee with his face downcast as he seemed to be taking a moment to reflect on the enormity, complexity, and danger of the crisis into which he was about to plunge. He was, Lt. Gen. Hertling said, likely pondering the mission, his family he left behind, and concerns about making mistakes in front of his comrades.

Then he showed a picture of a health care worker in a hospital corridor slumped on the floor with his or her back against the wall, knees up, and hands loosely clasped, looking exhausted and dazed. Health care workers also have carried a load that has seemed unbearable.

“You can certainly see that they are experiencing an emotional trauma at the very start of the pandemic,” he said. “The things you have carried over the last year-plus as the pandemic has raged will be with you in good and sometimes bad ways, and you need to address those things.”

Lt. Gen. Hertling described several issues – mirroring those seen in combat – that clinicians will take away from the COVID-19 experience and must grapple with as the closing chapters of the pandemic play out:
 

A sense of teamwork in a crisis

While it’s not unusual, he said, for physicians not to get along well with administrators, and for nurses sometimes not to trust doctors, the COVID-19 crisis created a sense of effective teamwork.

“They have built trust because they see a common mission and a common requirement,” he said.
 

A sense of loss

“You have lost patients, you probably have lost comrades, and some of you are having this associated survivor’s guilt – why did you survive and so many of your patients, perhaps a lot of your friends, did not?”

At memorial services for fallen soldiers, Lt. Gen. Hertling would bring a laminated card with the soldier’s picture and put it in a box with the words “Make It Matter” on it.

“That was our code for ensuring that every one of these individual soldiers who sacrificed their lives for the organization, we would carry on their legacy and make their sacrifice matter,” he said. “That’s one of the few ways you can overcome survivor’s guilt.”
 

Sense of accomplishment

Lt. Gen. Hertling said hospitalists, pushed to the extreme, were able to do things they never thought they were capable of.

“You have to relish in that, and you have to write those things down so you can go back and think about the things you did in a crisis environment to help,” he said.

In the post-pandemic era, health care workers should reflect on what they have seen, learned, and experienced, to help set a new standard and to establish ways to eliminate “bureaucratic morasses,” which seemed more possible than ever because the urgency of the moment demanded it.

Lt. Gen. Hertling also said hospitalists should take time to make a plan to handle personal, professional, team, and organizational requirements. For instance, health care workers should get a physical to take stock of how their bodies reacted to the stress of the pandemic. He said they should also recognize the difference between posttraumatic stress, which is to be expected, and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is less common.

“It’s only at the extreme that it becomes a dysfunction and you have to address it with the help of others,” he said. Hospitalists should examine the state of their emotional and spiritual relationships – with family and friends as well as with God or other figures important to them spiritually.

Professionally, hospitalists should review professional accomplishments and shortcomings and make changes based on those assessments, he said. It’s also a good time to assess leadership issues – recall who the contributors were and who could have done more. Hospitalists should also consider contributing post-pandemic articles to the Journal of Hospital Medicine, he said.

Lt. Gen. Hertling concluded by suggesting that hospitalists seek feedback on themselves and their own leadership qualities, from their team members.

“Really press the issue,” he said, “and get a good critique on how you can improve personally and professionally in terms of your leadership approach.”

Whether they realize it or not, hospitalists treating patients during the COVID-19 pandemic have been in a combat-like situation, with challenges and stresses similar to those faced by soldiers in a war zone.

And now, as the pandemic shows signs of subsiding, they’re about to emerge from this fight, which poses a whole new set of challenges, according a retired U.S. Army general who spoke May 4 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

Lt. Gen. (Ret.) Mark Hertling, DBA, said during his keynote speech that clinicians and soldiers – the only two professions that routinely have to navigate through life and death situations – must lead during all phases of combat.

“This is a period where you’re going to experience some things that you may or may not be ready for,” he said. “These are the same kind of issues soldiers face when redeploying from a combat zone.”

To help draw the comparison between hospitalists during the COVID-19 era and troops during a war, Lt. Gen. Hertling showed a photo of a U.S. paratrooper who’d just dropped into northern Iraq, carrying a backpack engorged with gear. He was on one knee with his face downcast as he seemed to be taking a moment to reflect on the enormity, complexity, and danger of the crisis into which he was about to plunge. He was, Lt. Gen. Hertling said, likely pondering the mission, his family he left behind, and concerns about making mistakes in front of his comrades.

Then he showed a picture of a health care worker in a hospital corridor slumped on the floor with his or her back against the wall, knees up, and hands loosely clasped, looking exhausted and dazed. Health care workers also have carried a load that has seemed unbearable.

“You can certainly see that they are experiencing an emotional trauma at the very start of the pandemic,” he said. “The things you have carried over the last year-plus as the pandemic has raged will be with you in good and sometimes bad ways, and you need to address those things.”

Lt. Gen. Hertling described several issues – mirroring those seen in combat – that clinicians will take away from the COVID-19 experience and must grapple with as the closing chapters of the pandemic play out:
 

A sense of teamwork in a crisis

While it’s not unusual, he said, for physicians not to get along well with administrators, and for nurses sometimes not to trust doctors, the COVID-19 crisis created a sense of effective teamwork.

“They have built trust because they see a common mission and a common requirement,” he said.
 

A sense of loss

“You have lost patients, you probably have lost comrades, and some of you are having this associated survivor’s guilt – why did you survive and so many of your patients, perhaps a lot of your friends, did not?”

At memorial services for fallen soldiers, Lt. Gen. Hertling would bring a laminated card with the soldier’s picture and put it in a box with the words “Make It Matter” on it.

“That was our code for ensuring that every one of these individual soldiers who sacrificed their lives for the organization, we would carry on their legacy and make their sacrifice matter,” he said. “That’s one of the few ways you can overcome survivor’s guilt.”
 

Sense of accomplishment

Lt. Gen. Hertling said hospitalists, pushed to the extreme, were able to do things they never thought they were capable of.

“You have to relish in that, and you have to write those things down so you can go back and think about the things you did in a crisis environment to help,” he said.

In the post-pandemic era, health care workers should reflect on what they have seen, learned, and experienced, to help set a new standard and to establish ways to eliminate “bureaucratic morasses,” which seemed more possible than ever because the urgency of the moment demanded it.

Lt. Gen. Hertling also said hospitalists should take time to make a plan to handle personal, professional, team, and organizational requirements. For instance, health care workers should get a physical to take stock of how their bodies reacted to the stress of the pandemic. He said they should also recognize the difference between posttraumatic stress, which is to be expected, and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is less common.

“It’s only at the extreme that it becomes a dysfunction and you have to address it with the help of others,” he said. Hospitalists should examine the state of their emotional and spiritual relationships – with family and friends as well as with God or other figures important to them spiritually.

Professionally, hospitalists should review professional accomplishments and shortcomings and make changes based on those assessments, he said. It’s also a good time to assess leadership issues – recall who the contributors were and who could have done more. Hospitalists should also consider contributing post-pandemic articles to the Journal of Hospital Medicine, he said.

Lt. Gen. Hertling concluded by suggesting that hospitalists seek feedback on themselves and their own leadership qualities, from their team members.

“Really press the issue,” he said, “and get a good critique on how you can improve personally and professionally in terms of your leadership approach.”

Whether they realize it or not, hospitalists treating patients during the COVID-19 pandemic have been in a combat-like situation, with challenges and stresses similar to those faced by soldiers in a war zone.

And now, as the pandemic shows signs of subsiding, they’re about to emerge from this fight, which poses a whole new set of challenges, according a retired U.S. Army general who spoke May 4 at SHM Converge, the annual conference of the Society of Hospital Medicine.

Lt. Gen. (Ret.) Mark Hertling, DBA, said during his keynote speech that clinicians and soldiers – the only two professions that routinely have to navigate through life and death situations – must lead during all phases of combat.

“This is a period where you’re going to experience some things that you may or may not be ready for,” he said. “These are the same kind of issues soldiers face when redeploying from a combat zone.”

To help draw the comparison between hospitalists during the COVID-19 era and troops during a war, Lt. Gen. Hertling showed a photo of a U.S. paratrooper who’d just dropped into northern Iraq, carrying a backpack engorged with gear. He was on one knee with his face downcast as he seemed to be taking a moment to reflect on the enormity, complexity, and danger of the crisis into which he was about to plunge. He was, Lt. Gen. Hertling said, likely pondering the mission, his family he left behind, and concerns about making mistakes in front of his comrades.

Then he showed a picture of a health care worker in a hospital corridor slumped on the floor with his or her back against the wall, knees up, and hands loosely clasped, looking exhausted and dazed. Health care workers also have carried a load that has seemed unbearable.

“You can certainly see that they are experiencing an emotional trauma at the very start of the pandemic,” he said. “The things you have carried over the last year-plus as the pandemic has raged will be with you in good and sometimes bad ways, and you need to address those things.”

Lt. Gen. Hertling described several issues – mirroring those seen in combat – that clinicians will take away from the COVID-19 experience and must grapple with as the closing chapters of the pandemic play out:
 

A sense of teamwork in a crisis

While it’s not unusual, he said, for physicians not to get along well with administrators, and for nurses sometimes not to trust doctors, the COVID-19 crisis created a sense of effective teamwork.

“They have built trust because they see a common mission and a common requirement,” he said.
 

A sense of loss

“You have lost patients, you probably have lost comrades, and some of you are having this associated survivor’s guilt – why did you survive and so many of your patients, perhaps a lot of your friends, did not?”

At memorial services for fallen soldiers, Lt. Gen. Hertling would bring a laminated card with the soldier’s picture and put it in a box with the words “Make It Matter” on it.

“That was our code for ensuring that every one of these individual soldiers who sacrificed their lives for the organization, we would carry on their legacy and make their sacrifice matter,” he said. “That’s one of the few ways you can overcome survivor’s guilt.”
 

Sense of accomplishment

Lt. Gen. Hertling said hospitalists, pushed to the extreme, were able to do things they never thought they were capable of.

“You have to relish in that, and you have to write those things down so you can go back and think about the things you did in a crisis environment to help,” he said.

In the post-pandemic era, health care workers should reflect on what they have seen, learned, and experienced, to help set a new standard and to establish ways to eliminate “bureaucratic morasses,” which seemed more possible than ever because the urgency of the moment demanded it.

Lt. Gen. Hertling also said hospitalists should take time to make a plan to handle personal, professional, team, and organizational requirements. For instance, health care workers should get a physical to take stock of how their bodies reacted to the stress of the pandemic. He said they should also recognize the difference between posttraumatic stress, which is to be expected, and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is less common.

“It’s only at the extreme that it becomes a dysfunction and you have to address it with the help of others,” he said. Hospitalists should examine the state of their emotional and spiritual relationships – with family and friends as well as with God or other figures important to them spiritually.

Professionally, hospitalists should review professional accomplishments and shortcomings and make changes based on those assessments, he said. It’s also a good time to assess leadership issues – recall who the contributors were and who could have done more. Hospitalists should also consider contributing post-pandemic articles to the Journal of Hospital Medicine, he said.

Lt. Gen. Hertling concluded by suggesting that hospitalists seek feedback on themselves and their own leadership qualities, from their team members.

“Really press the issue,” he said, “and get a good critique on how you can improve personally and professionally in terms of your leadership approach.”

Moral distress can result when health professionals like doctors and nurses feel prevented from doing what they know is right and ethically correct – reflecting the values of their profession and their own sense of professional integrity – because of unmanageable caseload demands, lack of resources, coverage limitations, or institutional policies.

Hospitalists are not exempt from moral distress, which is associated with soul-searching, burnout, and even PTSD. It is also associated with a higher likelihood for professionals to report an intention to leave their jobs. But the COVID-19 pandemic has superimposed a whole new layer of challenges, constraints, and frustrations, creating a potent mix of trauma and exhaustion, cumulative unease, depleted job satisfaction, and difficult ethical choices.

These challenges include seeing so many patients die and working with short supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) – with resulting fears that they could catch the virus or pass it on to others, including loved ones. Also, not having enough ventilators or even beds for patients in hospitals hit hard by COVID surges raises fears that decisions for rationing medical care might become necessary.

In a commentary published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in October 2019 – shortly before the COVID pandemic burst onto the scene – hospitalist and medical sociologist Elizabeth Dzeng, MD, PhD, MPH, and hospital medicine pioneer Robert Wachter, MD, MHM, both from the University of California, San Francisco, described “moral distress and professional ethical dissonance as root causes of burnout.”¹ They characterized moral distress by its emotional exhaustion, depersonalization, reduced sense of accomplishment, and moral apathy, and they called for renewed attention to social and ethical dimensions of practice and threats to physician professionalism.

Prevailing explanations for documented high rates of burnout in doctors have tended to focus on work hours and struggles with electronic medical records and the like, Dr. Dzeng and Dr. Wachter wrote. “We see evidence of an insidious moral distress resulting from physicians’ inability to act in accord with their individual and professional ethical values due to institutional and social constraints.”

COVID has intensified these issues surrounding moral distress. “In a short period of time it created more situations that raise issues of moral distress than I have seen since the early days of HIV,” Dr. Wachter said. “Those of us who work in hospitals often find ourselves in complex circumstances with limited resources. What was so striking about COVID was finding ourselves caring for large volumes of patients who had a condition that was new to us.”

And the fact that constraints imposed by COVID, such as having to don unwieldy PPE and not allowing families to be present with hospitalized loved ones, are explainable and rational only helps a little with the clinician’s distress.

People talk about the need for doctors to be more resilient, Dr. Dzeng added, but that’s too narrow of an approach to these very real challenges. There are huge issues of workforce retention and costs, major mental health issues, suicide – and implications for patient care, because burned-out doctors can be bad doctors.
 

What is moral distress?

Moral distress is a term from the nursing ethics literature, attributed to philosopher Andrew Jameton in 1984.² Contributors to moral distress imposed by COVID include having to make difficult medical decisions under stressful circumstances – especially early on, when effective treatment options were few. Doctors felt the demands of the pandemic were putting care quality and patient safety at risk. Poor working conditions overall, being pushed to work beyond their normal physical limits for days at a time, and feelings of not being valued added to this stress. But some say the pandemic has only highlighted and amplified existing inequities and disparities in the health care system.

Experts say moral distress is about feeling powerless, especially in a system driven by market values, and feeling let down by a society that has put them in harm’s way. They work all day under physically and emotionally exhausting conditions and then go home to hear specious conspiracy theories about the pandemic and see other people unwilling to wear masks.

Moral distress is complicated, said Lucia Wocial, PhD, RN, a nurse ethicist and cochair of the ethics consultation subcommittee at Indiana University Health in Indianapolis. “If you say you have moral distress, my first response is: tell me more. It helps to peel back the layers of this complexity. Emotion is only part of moral distress. It’s about the professional’s sense of responsibility and obligation – and the inability to honor that.”

Dr. Wocial, whose research specialty is moral distress, is corresponding author of a study published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in February 2020, which identified moral distress in 4 out of 10 surveyed physicians who cared for older hospitalized adults and found themselves needing to work with their surrogate decision-makers.³ “We know physician moral distress is higher when people haven’t had the chance to hold conversations about their end-of-life care preferences,” she said, such as whether to continue life support.

“We have also learned that communication is key to diminishing physician moral distress. Our responsibility as clinicians is to guide patients and families through these decisions. If the family feels a high level of support from me, then my moral distress is lower,” she added. “If you think about how COVID has evolved, at first people were dying so quickly. Some patients were going to the ICU on ventilators without ever having a goals-of-care conversation.”

COVID has shifted the usual standard of care in U.S. hospitals in the face of patient surges. “How can you feel okay in accepting a level of care that in the prepandemic world would not have been acceptable?” Dr. Wocial posed. “What if you know the standard of care has shifted, of necessity, but you haven’t had time to prepare for it and nobody’s talking about what that means? Who is going to help you accept that good enough under these circumstances is enough – at least for today?”
 

What to call it

Michael J. Asken, PhD, director of provider well-being at UPMC Pinnacle Harrisburg (Pa.), has questioned in print the use of the military and wartime term “moral injury” when applied to a variety of less serious physician stressors.⁴ More recently, however, he observed, “The pandemic has muted or erased many of the distinctions between medical care and military conflict. ... The onslaught and volume of critical patients and resulting deaths is beyond what most providers have ever contemplated as part of care.”⁵

In a recent interview with the Hospitalist, he said: “While I initially resisted using the term moral injury, especially pre-COVID, because it was not equivalent to the moral injury created by war, I have relented a bit.” The volume of deaths and the apparent dangers to providers themselves reflect some of the critical aspects of war, and repetitive, intense, and/or incessant ethical challenges may have longer term negative psychological or emotional effects.

“Feeling emotional pain in situations of multiple deaths is to be expected and, perhaps, should even be welcomed as a sign of retained humanity and a buffer against burnout and cynicism in these times of unabating stress,” Dr. Asken said. “This is only true, however, if the emotional impact is tolerable and not experienced in repetitive extremes.”

Courtesy Avera Health

“These things are real,” said Clarissa Barnes, MD, a physician adviser, hospitalist at Avera McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls, S.D., and former medical director of Avera’s LIGHT Program, a wellness-oriented service for clinicians. Dr. Barnes herself caught the virus on the job but has since recovered.

“Physicians don’t see their work as an occupation. It’s their core identity: I am a doctor; I practice medicine. If things are being done in ways I don’t think are right, that’s fundamentally a breach,” she said. “As internists, we have an opportunity to forestall death whenever we can and, if not, promote a peaceful death. That’s what made me choose this specialty. I think there’s value in allowing a person to end well. But when that doesn’t happen because of social or administrative reasons, that’s hard.”
 

Where is the leadership?

“A lot of moral injury comes down to the individual health system and its leaders. Some have done well; others you hear saying things that make you question whether these are the people you want leading the organization. Hospitalists need to have a clear value framework and an idea of how to negotiate things when decisions don’t match that framework,” Dr. Barnes said.

“Sometimes administrators have additional information that they’re not sharing,” she added. “They’re caught between a rock and a hard place regarding the decisions they have to make, but they need to be more transparent and not hold things so close to their vest while thinking they are helping clinicians [by doing so]. Physicians need to understand why they are being asked to do things counter to what they believe is appropriate.”

David Oliver, MD, a geriatrics and internal medicine consultant at Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading, England, also practices as a hospital physician, a role similar to the hospitalist in the United States. “In any system, in any environment, the job of being a doctor, nurse, or other health professional carries a lot of responsibility. That is a timeless, inherent stress of medical practice. With COVID, we’ve seen a lot of emotional burdens – a whole separate set of problems outside of your control, where you are responsible for care but don’t have accountability,” he said.

“People like me, hospital doctors, are used to chronic workforce issues in the National Health Service. But we didn’t sign up to come and get COVID and be hospitalized ourselves.” More than 850 frontline health care providers in the U.K. have so far died from the virus, Dr. Oliver said. “I saw five patients die in 90 minutes one day in April. That’s above and beyond normal human capacity.”

In England specifically, he said, it has exposed underlying structural issues and serious workforce gaps, unfilled vacancies, and a much lower number of ICU beds per 100,000 population than the United States or Europe. And there is consistent pressure to send patients home in order to empty beds for new patients.

But a range of supportive services is offered in U.K. hospitals, such as making senior clinicians available to speak to frontline clinicians, providing mentorship and a sounding board. The Point of Care Foundation has helped to disseminate the practice of Schwartz Rounds, a group reflective practice forum for health care teams developed by the Schwartz Center for Compassionate Healthcare in Boston.

“We don’t need this clap-for-the-NHS heroes stuff,” Dr. Oliver said. “We need an adequate workforce and [better] working conditions. What happened on the front lines of the pandemic was heroic – all done by local clinical teams. But where was the government – the centralized NHS? A lot of frontline clinicians aren’t feeling valued, supported, or listened to.”
 

What can be done?

What are some things that hospitalists can do, individually and collectively, to try to prevent moral distress from turning into full-scale burnout? Dr. Wocial emphasized the importance of unit-based ethics conversations. “At IU Health we have someone who is available to sit down with frontline clinicians and help unpack what they are experiencing,” she said. Clinicians need to be able to process this terrible experience in order to sort out the feelings of sadness from questions of whether they are doing something wrong.

Hospital chaplains are exquisitely skilled at supporting people and debriefing hospital teams, Dr. Wocial added. Palliative care professionals are also skilled at facilitating goals of care conversations with patients and families and can support hospitalists through coaching and joint family meetings.

“It’s about raising your sense of agency in your job – what in your practice you can control. People need to be able to talk frankly about it. Some managers say to clinicians: ‘Just buck up,’ while others are doing a fabulous job of offering support to their staff,” Dr. Wocial said. Hospitalists have to be willing to say when they’ve had too much. “You may not get help when you first ask for it. Be persistent. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.”

Most doctors have their own strategies for managing stress on the job, Dr. Wachter noted. “What makes it a little easier is not having to do it alone. Many find solace in community, but community has been constrained by this pandemic. You can’t just go out for a beer after work anymore. So what are other ways to let off steam?”

The people leading hospitalist programs need to work harder at creating community and empathy when the tools allowing people to get together are somewhat limited. “Everybody is tired of Zoom,” he said. “One thing I learned as a manager was to just send messages to people acknowledging that I know this is hard. Try to think from the lens of other people and what they would find useful.”

The pandemic has been terribly unpredictable, Dr. Wachter added, but it won’t go on forever. For some doctors, yoga or mindfulness meditation may be very comforting. “For me, that’s not what I do. Golf or a good Seinfeld episode works for me.”

SHM’s Wellbeing Taskforce has created a “Hospital Medicine COVID Check-in Guide for Self & Peers” to promote both sharing and support for one another. It can be found at SHM’s Wellbeing webpage [www.hospitalmedicine.org/practice-management/wellbeing/]. The Taskforce believes that sharing common stressors as hospitalists can be healing, said its chair, Sarah Richards, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of Nebraska, Omaha. “This is especially true in situations where we feel we can’t provide the type of care we know our patients deserve.”
 

Respect, advocacy, self-care

Dr. Asken encouraged clinicians to focus on the efforts they are making on the job, not just the outcomes. “If someone has done their absolute best in a given circumstance, satisfaction and solace needs to be taken from that,” he said.

“Ongoing support group meetings, which we have called frontline support groups, should occur on a regular basis. Designated for physicians on the medical floors and in critical care units who are directly involved with COVID patients, these provide a brief respite but also engagement, sharing, and strengthening of mutual support.”

A lot of these issues have a fundamental thread, which comes down to respect, Dr. Barnes said. “Hospitalists need to hear their hospital administrators say: ‘I hear what you’re saying [about a problem]. Let’s think together about how to solve it.’ We need to work on being clear, and we need to speak up for what’s right. If you aren’t comfortable doing things you are being asked to do in the hospital, maybe you’re not working in the right place.”

Some efforts in the area of wellness and self-care really are helpful, Dr. Barnes said. “But you can’t exercise you way through a health system that doesn’t respect you. You need to get out of the mindset that you have no ability to make things different. We are not powerless as doctors. We can do a lot, actually. Physicians need to take ownership. If you are a hospitalist and you’re not part of any local or state or national organization that advocates for physicians, you should be.”
 

References

1. Dzeng L and Wachter RM. Ethics in conflict: Moral distress as a root cause of burnout. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 Feb;35(2):409-11. doi: 10.1007/s11606-019-05505-6.

2. Jameton A, Nursing Practice: The ethical issues. Prentice Hall Series in the Philosophy of Medicine. 1984, Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall.

3. Wocial LD et al. Factors associated with physician moral distress caring for hospitalized elderly patients needing a surrogate decision-maker: A prospective study. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 May;35(5):1405-12. doi: 10.1007/s11606-020-05652-1.

4. Asken MJ. It’s not moral injury: It’s burnout (or something else). Medical Economics; June 7, 2019.

5. Asken MJ. Now it is moral injury: The COVID-19 pandemic and moral distress. Medical Economics; April 29, 2020.

Moral distress can result when health professionals like doctors and nurses feel prevented from doing what they know is right and ethically correct – reflecting the values of their profession and their own sense of professional integrity – because of unmanageable caseload demands, lack of resources, coverage limitations, or institutional policies.

Hospitalists are not exempt from moral distress, which is associated with soul-searching, burnout, and even PTSD. It is also associated with a higher likelihood for professionals to report an intention to leave their jobs. But the COVID-19 pandemic has superimposed a whole new layer of challenges, constraints, and frustrations, creating a potent mix of trauma and exhaustion, cumulative unease, depleted job satisfaction, and difficult ethical choices.

These challenges include seeing so many patients die and working with short supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) – with resulting fears that they could catch the virus or pass it on to others, including loved ones. Also, not having enough ventilators or even beds for patients in hospitals hit hard by COVID surges raises fears that decisions for rationing medical care might become necessary.

In a commentary published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in October 2019 – shortly before the COVID pandemic burst onto the scene – hospitalist and medical sociologist Elizabeth Dzeng, MD, PhD, MPH, and hospital medicine pioneer Robert Wachter, MD, MHM, both from the University of California, San Francisco, described “moral distress and professional ethical dissonance as root causes of burnout.”¹ They characterized moral distress by its emotional exhaustion, depersonalization, reduced sense of accomplishment, and moral apathy, and they called for renewed attention to social and ethical dimensions of practice and threats to physician professionalism.

Prevailing explanations for documented high rates of burnout in doctors have tended to focus on work hours and struggles with electronic medical records and the like, Dr. Dzeng and Dr. Wachter wrote. “We see evidence of an insidious moral distress resulting from physicians’ inability to act in accord with their individual and professional ethical values due to institutional and social constraints.”

COVID has intensified these issues surrounding moral distress. “In a short period of time it created more situations that raise issues of moral distress than I have seen since the early days of HIV,” Dr. Wachter said. “Those of us who work in hospitals often find ourselves in complex circumstances with limited resources. What was so striking about COVID was finding ourselves caring for large volumes of patients who had a condition that was new to us.”

And the fact that constraints imposed by COVID, such as having to don unwieldy PPE and not allowing families to be present with hospitalized loved ones, are explainable and rational only helps a little with the clinician’s distress.

People talk about the need for doctors to be more resilient, Dr. Dzeng added, but that’s too narrow of an approach to these very real challenges. There are huge issues of workforce retention and costs, major mental health issues, suicide – and implications for patient care, because burned-out doctors can be bad doctors.
 

What is moral distress?

Moral distress is a term from the nursing ethics literature, attributed to philosopher Andrew Jameton in 1984.² Contributors to moral distress imposed by COVID include having to make difficult medical decisions under stressful circumstances – especially early on, when effective treatment options were few. Doctors felt the demands of the pandemic were putting care quality and patient safety at risk. Poor working conditions overall, being pushed to work beyond their normal physical limits for days at a time, and feelings of not being valued added to this stress. But some say the pandemic has only highlighted and amplified existing inequities and disparities in the health care system.

Experts say moral distress is about feeling powerless, especially in a system driven by market values, and feeling let down by a society that has put them in harm’s way. They work all day under physically and emotionally exhausting conditions and then go home to hear specious conspiracy theories about the pandemic and see other people unwilling to wear masks.

Moral distress is complicated, said Lucia Wocial, PhD, RN, a nurse ethicist and cochair of the ethics consultation subcommittee at Indiana University Health in Indianapolis. “If you say you have moral distress, my first response is: tell me more. It helps to peel back the layers of this complexity. Emotion is only part of moral distress. It’s about the professional’s sense of responsibility and obligation – and the inability to honor that.”

Dr. Wocial, whose research specialty is moral distress, is corresponding author of a study published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in February 2020, which identified moral distress in 4 out of 10 surveyed physicians who cared for older hospitalized adults and found themselves needing to work with their surrogate decision-makers.³ “We know physician moral distress is higher when people haven’t had the chance to hold conversations about their end-of-life care preferences,” she said, such as whether to continue life support.

“We have also learned that communication is key to diminishing physician moral distress. Our responsibility as clinicians is to guide patients and families through these decisions. If the family feels a high level of support from me, then my moral distress is lower,” she added. “If you think about how COVID has evolved, at first people were dying so quickly. Some patients were going to the ICU on ventilators without ever having a goals-of-care conversation.”

COVID has shifted the usual standard of care in U.S. hospitals in the face of patient surges. “How can you feel okay in accepting a level of care that in the prepandemic world would not have been acceptable?” Dr. Wocial posed. “What if you know the standard of care has shifted, of necessity, but you haven’t had time to prepare for it and nobody’s talking about what that means? Who is going to help you accept that good enough under these circumstances is enough – at least for today?”
 

What to call it

Michael J. Asken, PhD, director of provider well-being at UPMC Pinnacle Harrisburg (Pa.), has questioned in print the use of the military and wartime term “moral injury” when applied to a variety of less serious physician stressors.⁴ More recently, however, he observed, “The pandemic has muted or erased many of the distinctions between medical care and military conflict. ... The onslaught and volume of critical patients and resulting deaths is beyond what most providers have ever contemplated as part of care.”⁵

In a recent interview with the Hospitalist, he said: “While I initially resisted using the term moral injury, especially pre-COVID, because it was not equivalent to the moral injury created by war, I have relented a bit.” The volume of deaths and the apparent dangers to providers themselves reflect some of the critical aspects of war, and repetitive, intense, and/or incessant ethical challenges may have longer term negative psychological or emotional effects.

“Feeling emotional pain in situations of multiple deaths is to be expected and, perhaps, should even be welcomed as a sign of retained humanity and a buffer against burnout and cynicism in these times of unabating stress,” Dr. Asken said. “This is only true, however, if the emotional impact is tolerable and not experienced in repetitive extremes.”

Courtesy Avera Health

“These things are real,” said Clarissa Barnes, MD, a physician adviser, hospitalist at Avera McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls, S.D., and former medical director of Avera’s LIGHT Program, a wellness-oriented service for clinicians. Dr. Barnes herself caught the virus on the job but has since recovered.

“Physicians don’t see their work as an occupation. It’s their core identity: I am a doctor; I practice medicine. If things are being done in ways I don’t think are right, that’s fundamentally a breach,” she said. “As internists, we have an opportunity to forestall death whenever we can and, if not, promote a peaceful death. That’s what made me choose this specialty. I think there’s value in allowing a person to end well. But when that doesn’t happen because of social or administrative reasons, that’s hard.”
 

Where is the leadership?

“A lot of moral injury comes down to the individual health system and its leaders. Some have done well; others you hear saying things that make you question whether these are the people you want leading the organization. Hospitalists need to have a clear value framework and an idea of how to negotiate things when decisions don’t match that framework,” Dr. Barnes said.

“Sometimes administrators have additional information that they’re not sharing,” she added. “They’re caught between a rock and a hard place regarding the decisions they have to make, but they need to be more transparent and not hold things so close to their vest while thinking they are helping clinicians [by doing so]. Physicians need to understand why they are being asked to do things counter to what they believe is appropriate.”

David Oliver, MD, a geriatrics and internal medicine consultant at Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading, England, also practices as a hospital physician, a role similar to the hospitalist in the United States. “In any system, in any environment, the job of being a doctor, nurse, or other health professional carries a lot of responsibility. That is a timeless, inherent stress of medical practice. With COVID, we’ve seen a lot of emotional burdens – a whole separate set of problems outside of your control, where you are responsible for care but don’t have accountability,” he said.

“People like me, hospital doctors, are used to chronic workforce issues in the National Health Service. But we didn’t sign up to come and get COVID and be hospitalized ourselves.” More than 850 frontline health care providers in the U.K. have so far died from the virus, Dr. Oliver said. “I saw five patients die in 90 minutes one day in April. That’s above and beyond normal human capacity.”

In England specifically, he said, it has exposed underlying structural issues and serious workforce gaps, unfilled vacancies, and a much lower number of ICU beds per 100,000 population than the United States or Europe. And there is consistent pressure to send patients home in order to empty beds for new patients.

But a range of supportive services is offered in U.K. hospitals, such as making senior clinicians available to speak to frontline clinicians, providing mentorship and a sounding board. The Point of Care Foundation has helped to disseminate the practice of Schwartz Rounds, a group reflective practice forum for health care teams developed by the Schwartz Center for Compassionate Healthcare in Boston.

“We don’t need this clap-for-the-NHS heroes stuff,” Dr. Oliver said. “We need an adequate workforce and [better] working conditions. What happened on the front lines of the pandemic was heroic – all done by local clinical teams. But where was the government – the centralized NHS? A lot of frontline clinicians aren’t feeling valued, supported, or listened to.”
 

What can be done?

What are some things that hospitalists can do, individually and collectively, to try to prevent moral distress from turning into full-scale burnout? Dr. Wocial emphasized the importance of unit-based ethics conversations. “At IU Health we have someone who is available to sit down with frontline clinicians and help unpack what they are experiencing,” she said. Clinicians need to be able to process this terrible experience in order to sort out the feelings of sadness from questions of whether they are doing something wrong.

Hospital chaplains are exquisitely skilled at supporting people and debriefing hospital teams, Dr. Wocial added. Palliative care professionals are also skilled at facilitating goals of care conversations with patients and families and can support hospitalists through coaching and joint family meetings.

“It’s about raising your sense of agency in your job – what in your practice you can control. People need to be able to talk frankly about it. Some managers say to clinicians: ‘Just buck up,’ while others are doing a fabulous job of offering support to their staff,” Dr. Wocial said. Hospitalists have to be willing to say when they’ve had too much. “You may not get help when you first ask for it. Be persistent. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.”

Most doctors have their own strategies for managing stress on the job, Dr. Wachter noted. “What makes it a little easier is not having to do it alone. Many find solace in community, but community has been constrained by this pandemic. You can’t just go out for a beer after work anymore. So what are other ways to let off steam?”

The people leading hospitalist programs need to work harder at creating community and empathy when the tools allowing people to get together are somewhat limited. “Everybody is tired of Zoom,” he said. “One thing I learned as a manager was to just send messages to people acknowledging that I know this is hard. Try to think from the lens of other people and what they would find useful.”

The pandemic has been terribly unpredictable, Dr. Wachter added, but it won’t go on forever. For some doctors, yoga or mindfulness meditation may be very comforting. “For me, that’s not what I do. Golf or a good Seinfeld episode works for me.”

SHM’s Wellbeing Taskforce has created a “Hospital Medicine COVID Check-in Guide for Self & Peers” to promote both sharing and support for one another. It can be found at SHM’s Wellbeing webpage [www.hospitalmedicine.org/practice-management/wellbeing/]. The Taskforce believes that sharing common stressors as hospitalists can be healing, said its chair, Sarah Richards, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of Nebraska, Omaha. “This is especially true in situations where we feel we can’t provide the type of care we know our patients deserve.”
 

Respect, advocacy, self-care

Dr. Asken encouraged clinicians to focus on the efforts they are making on the job, not just the outcomes. “If someone has done their absolute best in a given circumstance, satisfaction and solace needs to be taken from that,” he said.

“Ongoing support group meetings, which we have called frontline support groups, should occur on a regular basis. Designated for physicians on the medical floors and in critical care units who are directly involved with COVID patients, these provide a brief respite but also engagement, sharing, and strengthening of mutual support.”

A lot of these issues have a fundamental thread, which comes down to respect, Dr. Barnes said. “Hospitalists need to hear their hospital administrators say: ‘I hear what you’re saying [about a problem]. Let’s think together about how to solve it.’ We need to work on being clear, and we need to speak up for what’s right. If you aren’t comfortable doing things you are being asked to do in the hospital, maybe you’re not working in the right place.”

Some efforts in the area of wellness and self-care really are helpful, Dr. Barnes said. “But you can’t exercise you way through a health system that doesn’t respect you. You need to get out of the mindset that you have no ability to make things different. We are not powerless as doctors. We can do a lot, actually. Physicians need to take ownership. If you are a hospitalist and you’re not part of any local or state or national organization that advocates for physicians, you should be.”
 

References

1. Dzeng L and Wachter RM. Ethics in conflict: Moral distress as a root cause of burnout. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 Feb;35(2):409-11. doi: 10.1007/s11606-019-05505-6.

2. Jameton A, Nursing Practice: The ethical issues. Prentice Hall Series in the Philosophy of Medicine. 1984, Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall.

3. Wocial LD et al. Factors associated with physician moral distress caring for hospitalized elderly patients needing a surrogate decision-maker: A prospective study. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 May;35(5):1405-12. doi: 10.1007/s11606-020-05652-1.

4. Asken MJ. It’s not moral injury: It’s burnout (or something else). Medical Economics; June 7, 2019.

5. Asken MJ. Now it is moral injury: The COVID-19 pandemic and moral distress. Medical Economics; April 29, 2020.

Moral distress can result when health professionals like doctors and nurses feel prevented from doing what they know is right and ethically correct – reflecting the values of their profession and their own sense of professional integrity – because of unmanageable caseload demands, lack of resources, coverage limitations, or institutional policies.

Hospitalists are not exempt from moral distress, which is associated with soul-searching, burnout, and even PTSD. It is also associated with a higher likelihood for professionals to report an intention to leave their jobs. But the COVID-19 pandemic has superimposed a whole new layer of challenges, constraints, and frustrations, creating a potent mix of trauma and exhaustion, cumulative unease, depleted job satisfaction, and difficult ethical choices.

These challenges include seeing so many patients die and working with short supplies of personal protective equipment (PPE) – with resulting fears that they could catch the virus or pass it on to others, including loved ones. Also, not having enough ventilators or even beds for patients in hospitals hit hard by COVID surges raises fears that decisions for rationing medical care might become necessary.

In a commentary published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in October 2019 – shortly before the COVID pandemic burst onto the scene – hospitalist and medical sociologist Elizabeth Dzeng, MD, PhD, MPH, and hospital medicine pioneer Robert Wachter, MD, MHM, both from the University of California, San Francisco, described “moral distress and professional ethical dissonance as root causes of burnout.”¹ They characterized moral distress by its emotional exhaustion, depersonalization, reduced sense of accomplishment, and moral apathy, and they called for renewed attention to social and ethical dimensions of practice and threats to physician professionalism.

Prevailing explanations for documented high rates of burnout in doctors have tended to focus on work hours and struggles with electronic medical records and the like, Dr. Dzeng and Dr. Wachter wrote. “We see evidence of an insidious moral distress resulting from physicians’ inability to act in accord with their individual and professional ethical values due to institutional and social constraints.”

COVID has intensified these issues surrounding moral distress. “In a short period of time it created more situations that raise issues of moral distress than I have seen since the early days of HIV,” Dr. Wachter said. “Those of us who work in hospitals often find ourselves in complex circumstances with limited resources. What was so striking about COVID was finding ourselves caring for large volumes of patients who had a condition that was new to us.”

And the fact that constraints imposed by COVID, such as having to don unwieldy PPE and not allowing families to be present with hospitalized loved ones, are explainable and rational only helps a little with the clinician’s distress.

People talk about the need for doctors to be more resilient, Dr. Dzeng added, but that’s too narrow of an approach to these very real challenges. There are huge issues of workforce retention and costs, major mental health issues, suicide – and implications for patient care, because burned-out doctors can be bad doctors.
 

What is moral distress?

Moral distress is a term from the nursing ethics literature, attributed to philosopher Andrew Jameton in 1984.² Contributors to moral distress imposed by COVID include having to make difficult medical decisions under stressful circumstances – especially early on, when effective treatment options were few. Doctors felt the demands of the pandemic were putting care quality and patient safety at risk. Poor working conditions overall, being pushed to work beyond their normal physical limits for days at a time, and feelings of not being valued added to this stress. But some say the pandemic has only highlighted and amplified existing inequities and disparities in the health care system.

Experts say moral distress is about feeling powerless, especially in a system driven by market values, and feeling let down by a society that has put them in harm’s way. They work all day under physically and emotionally exhausting conditions and then go home to hear specious conspiracy theories about the pandemic and see other people unwilling to wear masks.

Moral distress is complicated, said Lucia Wocial, PhD, RN, a nurse ethicist and cochair of the ethics consultation subcommittee at Indiana University Health in Indianapolis. “If you say you have moral distress, my first response is: tell me more. It helps to peel back the layers of this complexity. Emotion is only part of moral distress. It’s about the professional’s sense of responsibility and obligation – and the inability to honor that.”

Dr. Wocial, whose research specialty is moral distress, is corresponding author of a study published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine in February 2020, which identified moral distress in 4 out of 10 surveyed physicians who cared for older hospitalized adults and found themselves needing to work with their surrogate decision-makers.³ “We know physician moral distress is higher when people haven’t had the chance to hold conversations about their end-of-life care preferences,” she said, such as whether to continue life support.

“We have also learned that communication is key to diminishing physician moral distress. Our responsibility as clinicians is to guide patients and families through these decisions. If the family feels a high level of support from me, then my moral distress is lower,” she added. “If you think about how COVID has evolved, at first people were dying so quickly. Some patients were going to the ICU on ventilators without ever having a goals-of-care conversation.”

COVID has shifted the usual standard of care in U.S. hospitals in the face of patient surges. “How can you feel okay in accepting a level of care that in the prepandemic world would not have been acceptable?” Dr. Wocial posed. “What if you know the standard of care has shifted, of necessity, but you haven’t had time to prepare for it and nobody’s talking about what that means? Who is going to help you accept that good enough under these circumstances is enough – at least for today?”
 

What to call it

Michael J. Asken, PhD, director of provider well-being at UPMC Pinnacle Harrisburg (Pa.), has questioned in print the use of the military and wartime term “moral injury” when applied to a variety of less serious physician stressors.⁴ More recently, however, he observed, “The pandemic has muted or erased many of the distinctions between medical care and military conflict. ... The onslaught and volume of critical patients and resulting deaths is beyond what most providers have ever contemplated as part of care.”⁵

In a recent interview with the Hospitalist, he said: “While I initially resisted using the term moral injury, especially pre-COVID, because it was not equivalent to the moral injury created by war, I have relented a bit.” The volume of deaths and the apparent dangers to providers themselves reflect some of the critical aspects of war, and repetitive, intense, and/or incessant ethical challenges may have longer term negative psychological or emotional effects.

“Feeling emotional pain in situations of multiple deaths is to be expected and, perhaps, should even be welcomed as a sign of retained humanity and a buffer against burnout and cynicism in these times of unabating stress,” Dr. Asken said. “This is only true, however, if the emotional impact is tolerable and not experienced in repetitive extremes.”

Courtesy Avera Health

“These things are real,” said Clarissa Barnes, MD, a physician adviser, hospitalist at Avera McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls, S.D., and former medical director of Avera’s LIGHT Program, a wellness-oriented service for clinicians. Dr. Barnes herself caught the virus on the job but has since recovered.

“Physicians don’t see their work as an occupation. It’s their core identity: I am a doctor; I practice medicine. If things are being done in ways I don’t think are right, that’s fundamentally a breach,” she said. “As internists, we have an opportunity to forestall death whenever we can and, if not, promote a peaceful death. That’s what made me choose this specialty. I think there’s value in allowing a person to end well. But when that doesn’t happen because of social or administrative reasons, that’s hard.”
 

Where is the leadership?

“A lot of moral injury comes down to the individual health system and its leaders. Some have done well; others you hear saying things that make you question whether these are the people you want leading the organization. Hospitalists need to have a clear value framework and an idea of how to negotiate things when decisions don’t match that framework,” Dr. Barnes said.

“Sometimes administrators have additional information that they’re not sharing,” she added. “They’re caught between a rock and a hard place regarding the decisions they have to make, but they need to be more transparent and not hold things so close to their vest while thinking they are helping clinicians [by doing so]. Physicians need to understand why they are being asked to do things counter to what they believe is appropriate.”

David Oliver, MD, a geriatrics and internal medicine consultant at Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading, England, also practices as a hospital physician, a role similar to the hospitalist in the United States. “In any system, in any environment, the job of being a doctor, nurse, or other health professional carries a lot of responsibility. That is a timeless, inherent stress of medical practice. With COVID, we’ve seen a lot of emotional burdens – a whole separate set of problems outside of your control, where you are responsible for care but don’t have accountability,” he said.

“People like me, hospital doctors, are used to chronic workforce issues in the National Health Service. But we didn’t sign up to come and get COVID and be hospitalized ourselves.” More than 850 frontline health care providers in the U.K. have so far died from the virus, Dr. Oliver said. “I saw five patients die in 90 minutes one day in April. That’s above and beyond normal human capacity.”

In England specifically, he said, it has exposed underlying structural issues and serious workforce gaps, unfilled vacancies, and a much lower number of ICU beds per 100,000 population than the United States or Europe. And there is consistent pressure to send patients home in order to empty beds for new patients.

But a range of supportive services is offered in U.K. hospitals, such as making senior clinicians available to speak to frontline clinicians, providing mentorship and a sounding board. The Point of Care Foundation has helped to disseminate the practice of Schwartz Rounds, a group reflective practice forum for health care teams developed by the Schwartz Center for Compassionate Healthcare in Boston.

“We don’t need this clap-for-the-NHS heroes stuff,” Dr. Oliver said. “We need an adequate workforce and [better] working conditions. What happened on the front lines of the pandemic was heroic – all done by local clinical teams. But where was the government – the centralized NHS? A lot of frontline clinicians aren’t feeling valued, supported, or listened to.”
 

What can be done?

What are some things that hospitalists can do, individually and collectively, to try to prevent moral distress from turning into full-scale burnout? Dr. Wocial emphasized the importance of unit-based ethics conversations. “At IU Health we have someone who is available to sit down with frontline clinicians and help unpack what they are experiencing,” she said. Clinicians need to be able to process this terrible experience in order to sort out the feelings of sadness from questions of whether they are doing something wrong.

Hospital chaplains are exquisitely skilled at supporting people and debriefing hospital teams, Dr. Wocial added. Palliative care professionals are also skilled at facilitating goals of care conversations with patients and families and can support hospitalists through coaching and joint family meetings.

“It’s about raising your sense of agency in your job – what in your practice you can control. People need to be able to talk frankly about it. Some managers say to clinicians: ‘Just buck up,’ while others are doing a fabulous job of offering support to their staff,” Dr. Wocial said. Hospitalists have to be willing to say when they’ve had too much. “You may not get help when you first ask for it. Be persistent. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.”

Most doctors have their own strategies for managing stress on the job, Dr. Wachter noted. “What makes it a little easier is not having to do it alone. Many find solace in community, but community has been constrained by this pandemic. You can’t just go out for a beer after work anymore. So what are other ways to let off steam?”

The people leading hospitalist programs need to work harder at creating community and empathy when the tools allowing people to get together are somewhat limited. “Everybody is tired of Zoom,” he said. “One thing I learned as a manager was to just send messages to people acknowledging that I know this is hard. Try to think from the lens of other people and what they would find useful.”

The pandemic has been terribly unpredictable, Dr. Wachter added, but it won’t go on forever. For some doctors, yoga or mindfulness meditation may be very comforting. “For me, that’s not what I do. Golf or a good Seinfeld episode works for me.”

SHM’s Wellbeing Taskforce has created a “Hospital Medicine COVID Check-in Guide for Self & Peers” to promote both sharing and support for one another. It can be found at SHM’s Wellbeing webpage [www.hospitalmedicine.org/practice-management/wellbeing/]. The Taskforce believes that sharing common stressors as hospitalists can be healing, said its chair, Sarah Richards, MD, assistant professor of medicine at the University of Nebraska, Omaha. “This is especially true in situations where we feel we can’t provide the type of care we know our patients deserve.”
 

Respect, advocacy, self-care

Dr. Asken encouraged clinicians to focus on the efforts they are making on the job, not just the outcomes. “If someone has done their absolute best in a given circumstance, satisfaction and solace needs to be taken from that,” he said.

“Ongoing support group meetings, which we have called frontline support groups, should occur on a regular basis. Designated for physicians on the medical floors and in critical care units who are directly involved with COVID patients, these provide a brief respite but also engagement, sharing, and strengthening of mutual support.”

A lot of these issues have a fundamental thread, which comes down to respect, Dr. Barnes said. “Hospitalists need to hear their hospital administrators say: ‘I hear what you’re saying [about a problem]. Let’s think together about how to solve it.’ We need to work on being clear, and we need to speak up for what’s right. If you aren’t comfortable doing things you are being asked to do in the hospital, maybe you’re not working in the right place.”

Some efforts in the area of wellness and self-care really are helpful, Dr. Barnes said. “But you can’t exercise you way through a health system that doesn’t respect you. You need to get out of the mindset that you have no ability to make things different. We are not powerless as doctors. We can do a lot, actually. Physicians need to take ownership. If you are a hospitalist and you’re not part of any local or state or national organization that advocates for physicians, you should be.”
 

References

1. Dzeng L and Wachter RM. Ethics in conflict: Moral distress as a root cause of burnout. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 Feb;35(2):409-11. doi: 10.1007/s11606-019-05505-6.

2. Jameton A, Nursing Practice: The ethical issues. Prentice Hall Series in the Philosophy of Medicine. 1984, Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall.

3. Wocial LD et al. Factors associated with physician moral distress caring for hospitalized elderly patients needing a surrogate decision-maker: A prospective study. J Gen Intern Med. 2020 May;35(5):1405-12. doi: 10.1007/s11606-020-05652-1.

4. Asken MJ. It’s not moral injury: It’s burnout (or something else). Medical Economics; June 7, 2019.

5. Asken MJ. Now it is moral injury: The COVID-19 pandemic and moral distress. Medical Economics; April 29, 2020.

The percentage of physicians in the United States who are Black has increased only 4% in the past 120 years, and the number of Black male doctors has not changed at all since 1940, according to a new study.

In 1900, 1.3% of physicians were Black. In 1940, 2.8% of physicians were Black, and by 2018 – when almost 13% of the population was Black – 5.4% of doctors were Black, reports Dan Ly, MD, PhD, MPP, an assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in a study published online April 19, 2021, in the Journal of General Internal Medicine.

The proportion of male Black physicians was 2.7% in 1940 and 2.6% in 2018.

Dr. Ly also found a significant wage gap. The median income earned by White doctors was $50,000 more than the median income of Black physicians in 2018. Dr. Ly based his findings on the U.S. Census Decennial Census long form, accessed via IPUMS, a free database funded by the National Institutes of Health and other organizations.

“If we care about the health of the population, particularly the health of Black patients, we should care about how small the proportion of our physicians who are Black is and the extremely slow progress we have made as a medical system in increasing that proportion,” Dr. Ly said in an interview.

Dr. Ly said he took on this research in part because previous studies have shown that Black patients are more likely to seek preventive care from Black doctors. Thus, increasing the numbers of Black physicians could narrow gaps in life expectancy between Whites and Blacks.

He also wanted to see whether progress had been made as a result of various medical organizations and the Association of American Medical Colleges undertaking initiatives to increase workforce diversity. There has been “very, very little” progress, he said.

Norma Poll-Hunter, PhD, the AAMC’s senior director of workforce diversity, said Dr. Ly’s report “was not surprising at all.”

The AAMC reported in 2014 that the number of Black men who apply to and matriculate into medical schools has been declining since 1978. That year, there were 1,410 Black male applicants and 542 Black enrollees. In 2014, there were 1,337 applicants and 515 enrollees.

Since 2014, Black male enrollment has increased slightly, rising from 2.4% in the 2014-2015 school year to 2.9% in the 2019-2020 year, the AAMC reported last year.

In addition, among other historically underrepresented minorities, “we really have seen very small progress” despite the increase in the number of medical schools, Dr. Poll-Hunter said in an interview.

The AAMC and the National Medical Association consider the lack of Black male applicants and matriculants to be a national crisis. The two groups started an alliance in 2020 aimed at finding ways to amplify and support Black men’s interest in medicine and the biomedical sciences and to “develop systems-based solutions to address exclusionary practices that create barriers for Black men and prevent them from having equitable opportunities to successfully enroll in medical school.”

Solutions include requiring medical school admissions committees and application screeners to undergo implicit bias awareness and mitigation training, adopting holistic admissions reviews, and incentivizing institutions of higher learning to partner with Black communities in urban and rural school systems to establish K-12 health sciences academies, said NMA President Leon McDougle, MD, MPH.

“There are the systems factors, and racism is a big one that we have to tackle,” said Dr. Poll-Hunter.

Diversity isn’t just about numbers, said Dr. McDougle, a professor of family medicine and associate dean for diversity and inclusion at Ohio State University, Columbus. “We know that medical school graduates who are African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native are more likely to serve those communities as practicing physicians.

“The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the urgent need for more African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native physicians,” he said. “Inadequate access to culturally competent care has exacerbated existing health disparities, resulting in death and hospitalization rates up to three to four times the rates of European American or White people.”

Dr. Poll-Hunter also said that studies have shown that diversity in the classroom creates a more enriched learning environment and increases civic mindedness and cognitive complexity, “as well as helps us understand people who are different than ourselves.”

The diversity goal “is not about quotas, it’s about excellence,” she said. “We know that there’s talent that exists, and we want to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to be successful.”

Dr. Ly has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The percentage of physicians in the United States who are Black has increased only 4% in the past 120 years, and the number of Black male doctors has not changed at all since 1940, according to a new study.

In 1900, 1.3% of physicians were Black. In 1940, 2.8% of physicians were Black, and by 2018 – when almost 13% of the population was Black – 5.4% of doctors were Black, reports Dan Ly, MD, PhD, MPP, an assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in a study published online April 19, 2021, in the Journal of General Internal Medicine.

The proportion of male Black physicians was 2.7% in 1940 and 2.6% in 2018.

Dr. Ly also found a significant wage gap. The median income earned by White doctors was $50,000 more than the median income of Black physicians in 2018. Dr. Ly based his findings on the U.S. Census Decennial Census long form, accessed via IPUMS, a free database funded by the National Institutes of Health and other organizations.

“If we care about the health of the population, particularly the health of Black patients, we should care about how small the proportion of our physicians who are Black is and the extremely slow progress we have made as a medical system in increasing that proportion,” Dr. Ly said in an interview.

Dr. Ly said he took on this research in part because previous studies have shown that Black patients are more likely to seek preventive care from Black doctors. Thus, increasing the numbers of Black physicians could narrow gaps in life expectancy between Whites and Blacks.

He also wanted to see whether progress had been made as a result of various medical organizations and the Association of American Medical Colleges undertaking initiatives to increase workforce diversity. There has been “very, very little” progress, he said.

Norma Poll-Hunter, PhD, the AAMC’s senior director of workforce diversity, said Dr. Ly’s report “was not surprising at all.”

The AAMC reported in 2014 that the number of Black men who apply to and matriculate into medical schools has been declining since 1978. That year, there were 1,410 Black male applicants and 542 Black enrollees. In 2014, there were 1,337 applicants and 515 enrollees.

Since 2014, Black male enrollment has increased slightly, rising from 2.4% in the 2014-2015 school year to 2.9% in the 2019-2020 year, the AAMC reported last year.

In addition, among other historically underrepresented minorities, “we really have seen very small progress” despite the increase in the number of medical schools, Dr. Poll-Hunter said in an interview.

The AAMC and the National Medical Association consider the lack of Black male applicants and matriculants to be a national crisis. The two groups started an alliance in 2020 aimed at finding ways to amplify and support Black men’s interest in medicine and the biomedical sciences and to “develop systems-based solutions to address exclusionary practices that create barriers for Black men and prevent them from having equitable opportunities to successfully enroll in medical school.”

Solutions include requiring medical school admissions committees and application screeners to undergo implicit bias awareness and mitigation training, adopting holistic admissions reviews, and incentivizing institutions of higher learning to partner with Black communities in urban and rural school systems to establish K-12 health sciences academies, said NMA President Leon McDougle, MD, MPH.

“There are the systems factors, and racism is a big one that we have to tackle,” said Dr. Poll-Hunter.

Diversity isn’t just about numbers, said Dr. McDougle, a professor of family medicine and associate dean for diversity and inclusion at Ohio State University, Columbus. “We know that medical school graduates who are African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native are more likely to serve those communities as practicing physicians.

“The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the urgent need for more African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native physicians,” he said. “Inadequate access to culturally competent care has exacerbated existing health disparities, resulting in death and hospitalization rates up to three to four times the rates of European American or White people.”

Dr. Poll-Hunter also said that studies have shown that diversity in the classroom creates a more enriched learning environment and increases civic mindedness and cognitive complexity, “as well as helps us understand people who are different than ourselves.”

The diversity goal “is not about quotas, it’s about excellence,” she said. “We know that there’s talent that exists, and we want to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to be successful.”

Dr. Ly has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The percentage of physicians in the United States who are Black has increased only 4% in the past 120 years, and the number of Black male doctors has not changed at all since 1940, according to a new study.

In 1900, 1.3% of physicians were Black. In 1940, 2.8% of physicians were Black, and by 2018 – when almost 13% of the population was Black – 5.4% of doctors were Black, reports Dan Ly, MD, PhD, MPP, an assistant professor of medicine at the University of California, Los Angeles, in a study published online April 19, 2021, in the Journal of General Internal Medicine.

The proportion of male Black physicians was 2.7% in 1940 and 2.6% in 2018.

Dr. Ly also found a significant wage gap. The median income earned by White doctors was $50,000 more than the median income of Black physicians in 2018. Dr. Ly based his findings on the U.S. Census Decennial Census long form, accessed via IPUMS, a free database funded by the National Institutes of Health and other organizations.

“If we care about the health of the population, particularly the health of Black patients, we should care about how small the proportion of our physicians who are Black is and the extremely slow progress we have made as a medical system in increasing that proportion,” Dr. Ly said in an interview.

Dr. Ly said he took on this research in part because previous studies have shown that Black patients are more likely to seek preventive care from Black doctors. Thus, increasing the numbers of Black physicians could narrow gaps in life expectancy between Whites and Blacks.

He also wanted to see whether progress had been made as a result of various medical organizations and the Association of American Medical Colleges undertaking initiatives to increase workforce diversity. There has been “very, very little” progress, he said.

Norma Poll-Hunter, PhD, the AAMC’s senior director of workforce diversity, said Dr. Ly’s report “was not surprising at all.”

The AAMC reported in 2014 that the number of Black men who apply to and matriculate into medical schools has been declining since 1978. That year, there were 1,410 Black male applicants and 542 Black enrollees. In 2014, there were 1,337 applicants and 515 enrollees.

Since 2014, Black male enrollment has increased slightly, rising from 2.4% in the 2014-2015 school year to 2.9% in the 2019-2020 year, the AAMC reported last year.

In addition, among other historically underrepresented minorities, “we really have seen very small progress” despite the increase in the number of medical schools, Dr. Poll-Hunter said in an interview.

The AAMC and the National Medical Association consider the lack of Black male applicants and matriculants to be a national crisis. The two groups started an alliance in 2020 aimed at finding ways to amplify and support Black men’s interest in medicine and the biomedical sciences and to “develop systems-based solutions to address exclusionary practices that create barriers for Black men and prevent them from having equitable opportunities to successfully enroll in medical school.”

Solutions include requiring medical school admissions committees and application screeners to undergo implicit bias awareness and mitigation training, adopting holistic admissions reviews, and incentivizing institutions of higher learning to partner with Black communities in urban and rural school systems to establish K-12 health sciences academies, said NMA President Leon McDougle, MD, MPH.

“There are the systems factors, and racism is a big one that we have to tackle,” said Dr. Poll-Hunter.

Diversity isn’t just about numbers, said Dr. McDougle, a professor of family medicine and associate dean for diversity and inclusion at Ohio State University, Columbus. “We know that medical school graduates who are African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native are more likely to serve those communities as practicing physicians.

“The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted the urgent need for more African American or Black, Hispanic or Latinx, or American Indian or Alaskan Native physicians,” he said. “Inadequate access to culturally competent care has exacerbated existing health disparities, resulting in death and hospitalization rates up to three to four times the rates of European American or White people.”

Dr. Poll-Hunter also said that studies have shown that diversity in the classroom creates a more enriched learning environment and increases civic mindedness and cognitive complexity, “as well as helps us understand people who are different than ourselves.”

The diversity goal “is not about quotas, it’s about excellence,” she said. “We know that there’s talent that exists, and we want to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to be successful.”

Dr. Ly has disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Background: Studies show better outcomes, decreased length of stay, increased patient satisfaction, improved quality, and decreased readmission rates when hospitalist services are used. This study looks at how hospitalist schedules affect these outcomes.

The primary outcome was mortality within 30 days of discharge and secondary outcomes were 30-day readmission rates, discharge destination, and 30-day postdischarge costs.

Patients receiving care from hospitalists working several days in a row had better outcomes. It is postulated that continuity of care by one hospitalist is important for several reasons. Most importantly, the development of rapport with patient and family is key to deciding the plan of care and destination post discharge as it is quite challenging to effectively transfer all important information during verbal or written handoffs.

Bottom line: Care provided by hospitalists working more days in a row improved patient outcomes. A variety of hospitalist schedules are being practiced currently; however, these findings must be taken into account as schedules are designed.

Citation: Goodwin JS et al. Association of the work schedules of hospitalists with patient outcomes of hospitalization. JAMA Intern Med. 2020;180(2):215-22. doi: 10.1001/jamainternmed.2019.5193.

Dr. Ahmed is assistant professor in the division of hospital medicine, Loyola University Medical Center, Maywood, Ill.

Background: Studies show better outcomes, decreased length of stay, increased patient satisfaction, improved quality, and decreased readmission rates when hospitalist services are used. This study looks at how hospitalist schedules affect these outcomes.

The primary outcome was mortality within 30 days of discharge and secondary outcomes were 30-day readmission rates, discharge destination, and 30-day postdischarge costs.

Patients receiving care from hospitalists working several days in a row had better outcomes. It is postulated that continuity of care by one hospitalist is important for several reasons. Most importantly, the development of rapport with patient and family is key to deciding the plan of care and destination post discharge as it is quite challenging to effectively transfer all important information during verbal or written handoffs.

Bottom line: Care provided by hospitalists working more days in a row improved patient outcomes. A variety of hospitalist schedules are being practiced currently; however, these findings must be taken into account as schedules are designed.

Citation: Goodwin JS et al. Association of the work schedules of hospitalists with patient outcomes of hospitalization. JAMA Intern Med. 2020;180(2):215-22. doi: 10.1001/jamainternmed.2019.5193.

Dr. Ahmed is assistant professor in the division of hospital medicine, Loyola University Medical Center, Maywood, Ill.

Background: Studies show better outcomes, decreased length of stay, increased patient satisfaction, improved quality, and decreased readmission rates when hospitalist services are used. This study looks at how hospitalist schedules affect these outcomes.

The primary outcome was mortality within 30 days of discharge and secondary outcomes were 30-day readmission rates, discharge destination, and 30-day postdischarge costs.

Patients receiving care from hospitalists working several days in a row had better outcomes. It is postulated that continuity of care by one hospitalist is important for several reasons. Most importantly, the development of rapport with patient and family is key to deciding the plan of care and destination post discharge as it is quite challenging to effectively transfer all important information during verbal or written handoffs.

Bottom line: Care provided by hospitalists working more days in a row improved patient outcomes. A variety of hospitalist schedules are being practiced currently; however, these findings must be taken into account as schedules are designed.

Citation: Goodwin JS et al. Association of the work schedules of hospitalists with patient outcomes of hospitalization. JAMA Intern Med. 2020;180(2):215-22. doi: 10.1001/jamainternmed.2019.5193.

Dr. Ahmed is assistant professor in the division of hospital medicine, Loyola University Medical Center, Maywood, Ill.

The biennial State of Hospital Medicine (SoHM) Report was released in fall 2020, reflecting surveys collected just as the pandemic was ramping up. Thus, a COVID Addendum of results was collected and published a few months later. What did these reports tell us about existing and developing trends in staffing and scheduling?

Here is a top five list of findings for hospital medicine programs (HMGs) serving adults only. These are just highlights; for further detail, visit the SHM website to learn more and purchase your copy. The information in the SoHM is extraordinarily helpful in planning for your group’s future staffing and scheduling needs.

5. Average group size has increased

Andrew White, MD, SFHM, associate professor of medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, provided a deep-dive discussion on the increase of group sizes in the March 2021 issue of The Hospitalist. Group size has impacted the way a hospitalist group schedules, when reviewing correlating scheduling survey responses.

Group size can have a direct correlation to scheduling methodology. The number of employed/contracted physician hospitalists in individual groups is up about 25%. Alongside the increase in physician hospitalists is an increase in both nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs) in adult hospitalist groups, with the largest growth in PAs. In fact, in 2020, the average number of NPs and PAs per hospitalist group is approaching similar numbers.

In 2020, more than half of all programs reported not having a backup call system. One could speculate that the larger group size has allowed adult hospitalist groups better ability to staff upper fluctuations in daily volume. This could have resulted in day-to-day scheduling ease and flexibility.

4. Shift-type is shifting

In scheduling adult hospitalist groups, fewer groups reported dedicated nocturnists and more groups reported dedicated day admitters.

Just above a third of all adult hospitalist programs report having dedicated day admitter shifts, and the presence of nocturnists is at a 6-year low. One speculation that could be made is that hospitalists are making more of an effort to ensure that more admissions are done during the day and not held over for nighttime. This would be consistent with the strong pressure for hospitals to decrease door-to-floor admission times. However, the presence of nocturnists increases steadily with group size. Ninety-four percent of HMGs with 30-49 physician FTEs and 98% of groups with 50 or more physician FTEs reported using dedicated nocturnists.

3. COVID-19 impacts hospitalist workflows

It’s not hard to imagine that COVID-19 has affected all hospitalist groups: adult, pediatric, and adult/pediatric groups. COVID-19 has affected all lives – at home and at work – across the world. More than 80% of all adult hospitalist groups report having implemented changes (beyond dedicated COVID-19 teams) in workflows and/or how work is allocated among its providers. And nearly 20% report that this is likely a permanent change.

2. Schedules have been disrupted by COVID-19

More than half of adult hospitalist groups report having their schedules disrupted by COVID-19. The top two disruptors are loss of staff time due to exposure quarantine, and lost provider time due to COVID-19 illness. All the while, adult hospitalist groups have been taking care of more and more hospitalized patients.

While some groups have not made any changes in scheduling due to COVID-19, many have. Nearly 60% of all groups have increased scheduling flexibility or changed their scheduling model. For about 11% of all groups, this change is likely to be permanent.

1. COVID-19 has changed scheduling methodologies – perhaps for the long-term

Three out of four adult hospitalist groups have created new COVID-19 dedicated teams each day. This has likely had one of the most impacts.

Unit-based assignment reported in the 2020 SoHM was already up from the 2018 SoHM Report (42.7% vs 36%). Now, in addition to nocturnists, day admitter, rounder roles, and unit-based assignments, hospital medicine groups must also incorporate COVID-19 teams into daily scheduling considerations. One in five groups report this change may likely be a permanent addition to the hospitalist schedule. Wow.

As we think forward to the 2022 SoHM, staffing and scheduling of adult hospital medicine group will be a key topic of the survey. How does COVID-19 change hospital medicine groups in the medium and long term? One thing is for sure – hospital medicine groups are resilient and have proven to be creative in ensuring our hospitalized patients are well cared for.

Post your thoughts and questions for your peer network on the SHM Online Community: HMX. Let’s keep the conversation going on how we can help each other create sustainable staffing and scheduling models that are continuously adapting to our peripandemic environment.
 

Ms. Trask is national vice president of the Hospital Medicine Service Line at Catholic Health Initiatives in Englewood, Colo.

The biennial State of Hospital Medicine (SoHM) Report was released in fall 2020, reflecting surveys collected just as the pandemic was ramping up. Thus, a COVID Addendum of results was collected and published a few months later. What did these reports tell us about existing and developing trends in staffing and scheduling?

Here is a top five list of findings for hospital medicine programs (HMGs) serving adults only. These are just highlights; for further detail, visit the SHM website to learn more and purchase your copy. The information in the SoHM is extraordinarily helpful in planning for your group’s future staffing and scheduling needs.

5. Average group size has increased

Andrew White, MD, SFHM, associate professor of medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, provided a deep-dive discussion on the increase of group sizes in the March 2021 issue of The Hospitalist. Group size has impacted the way a hospitalist group schedules, when reviewing correlating scheduling survey responses.

Group size can have a direct correlation to scheduling methodology. The number of employed/contracted physician hospitalists in individual groups is up about 25%. Alongside the increase in physician hospitalists is an increase in both nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs) in adult hospitalist groups, with the largest growth in PAs. In fact, in 2020, the average number of NPs and PAs per hospitalist group is approaching similar numbers.

In 2020, more than half of all programs reported not having a backup call system. One could speculate that the larger group size has allowed adult hospitalist groups better ability to staff upper fluctuations in daily volume. This could have resulted in day-to-day scheduling ease and flexibility.

4. Shift-type is shifting

In scheduling adult hospitalist groups, fewer groups reported dedicated nocturnists and more groups reported dedicated day admitters.

Just above a third of all adult hospitalist programs report having dedicated day admitter shifts, and the presence of nocturnists is at a 6-year low. One speculation that could be made is that hospitalists are making more of an effort to ensure that more admissions are done during the day and not held over for nighttime. This would be consistent with the strong pressure for hospitals to decrease door-to-floor admission times. However, the presence of nocturnists increases steadily with group size. Ninety-four percent of HMGs with 30-49 physician FTEs and 98% of groups with 50 or more physician FTEs reported using dedicated nocturnists.

3. COVID-19 impacts hospitalist workflows

It’s not hard to imagine that COVID-19 has affected all hospitalist groups: adult, pediatric, and adult/pediatric groups. COVID-19 has affected all lives – at home and at work – across the world. More than 80% of all adult hospitalist groups report having implemented changes (beyond dedicated COVID-19 teams) in workflows and/or how work is allocated among its providers. And nearly 20% report that this is likely a permanent change.

2. Schedules have been disrupted by COVID-19

More than half of adult hospitalist groups report having their schedules disrupted by COVID-19. The top two disruptors are loss of staff time due to exposure quarantine, and lost provider time due to COVID-19 illness. All the while, adult hospitalist groups have been taking care of more and more hospitalized patients.

While some groups have not made any changes in scheduling due to COVID-19, many have. Nearly 60% of all groups have increased scheduling flexibility or changed their scheduling model. For about 11% of all groups, this change is likely to be permanent.

1. COVID-19 has changed scheduling methodologies – perhaps for the long-term

Three out of four adult hospitalist groups have created new COVID-19 dedicated teams each day. This has likely had one of the most impacts.

Unit-based assignment reported in the 2020 SoHM was already up from the 2018 SoHM Report (42.7% vs 36%). Now, in addition to nocturnists, day admitter, rounder roles, and unit-based assignments, hospital medicine groups must also incorporate COVID-19 teams into daily scheduling considerations. One in five groups report this change may likely be a permanent addition to the hospitalist schedule. Wow.

As we think forward to the 2022 SoHM, staffing and scheduling of adult hospital medicine group will be a key topic of the survey. How does COVID-19 change hospital medicine groups in the medium and long term? One thing is for sure – hospital medicine groups are resilient and have proven to be creative in ensuring our hospitalized patients are well cared for.

Post your thoughts and questions for your peer network on the SHM Online Community: HMX. Let’s keep the conversation going on how we can help each other create sustainable staffing and scheduling models that are continuously adapting to our peripandemic environment.
 

Ms. Trask is national vice president of the Hospital Medicine Service Line at Catholic Health Initiatives in Englewood, Colo.

The biennial State of Hospital Medicine (SoHM) Report was released in fall 2020, reflecting surveys collected just as the pandemic was ramping up. Thus, a COVID Addendum of results was collected and published a few months later. What did these reports tell us about existing and developing trends in staffing and scheduling?

Here is a top five list of findings for hospital medicine programs (HMGs) serving adults only. These are just highlights; for further detail, visit the SHM website to learn more and purchase your copy. The information in the SoHM is extraordinarily helpful in planning for your group’s future staffing and scheduling needs.

5. Average group size has increased

Andrew White, MD, SFHM, associate professor of medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle, provided a deep-dive discussion on the increase of group sizes in the March 2021 issue of The Hospitalist. Group size has impacted the way a hospitalist group schedules, when reviewing correlating scheduling survey responses.

Group size can have a direct correlation to scheduling methodology. The number of employed/contracted physician hospitalists in individual groups is up about 25%. Alongside the increase in physician hospitalists is an increase in both nurse practitioners (NPs) and physician assistants (PAs) in adult hospitalist groups, with the largest growth in PAs. In fact, in 2020, the average number of NPs and PAs per hospitalist group is approaching similar numbers.

In 2020, more than half of all programs reported not having a backup call system. One could speculate that the larger group size has allowed adult hospitalist groups better ability to staff upper fluctuations in daily volume. This could have resulted in day-to-day scheduling ease and flexibility.

4. Shift-type is shifting

In scheduling adult hospitalist groups, fewer groups reported dedicated nocturnists and more groups reported dedicated day admitters.

Just above a third of all adult hospitalist programs report having dedicated day admitter shifts, and the presence of nocturnists is at a 6-year low. One speculation that could be made is that hospitalists are making more of an effort to ensure that more admissions are done during the day and not held over for nighttime. This would be consistent with the strong pressure for hospitals to decrease door-to-floor admission times. However, the presence of nocturnists increases steadily with group size. Ninety-four percent of HMGs with 30-49 physician FTEs and 98% of groups with 50 or more physician FTEs reported using dedicated nocturnists.

3. COVID-19 impacts hospitalist workflows

It’s not hard to imagine that COVID-19 has affected all hospitalist groups: adult, pediatric, and adult/pediatric groups. COVID-19 has affected all lives – at home and at work – across the world. More than 80% of all adult hospitalist groups report having implemented changes (beyond dedicated COVID-19 teams) in workflows and/or how work is allocated among its providers. And nearly 20% report that this is likely a permanent change.

2. Schedules have been disrupted by COVID-19

More than half of adult hospitalist groups report having their schedules disrupted by COVID-19. The top two disruptors are loss of staff time due to exposure quarantine, and lost provider time due to COVID-19 illness. All the while, adult hospitalist groups have been taking care of more and more hospitalized patients.

While some groups have not made any changes in scheduling due to COVID-19, many have. Nearly 60% of all groups have increased scheduling flexibility or changed their scheduling model. For about 11% of all groups, this change is likely to be permanent.

1. COVID-19 has changed scheduling methodologies – perhaps for the long-term

Three out of four adult hospitalist groups have created new COVID-19 dedicated teams each day. This has likely had one of the most impacts.

Unit-based assignment reported in the 2020 SoHM was already up from the 2018 SoHM Report (42.7% vs 36%). Now, in addition to nocturnists, day admitter, rounder roles, and unit-based assignments, hospital medicine groups must also incorporate COVID-19 teams into daily scheduling considerations. One in five groups report this change may likely be a permanent addition to the hospitalist schedule. Wow.

As we think forward to the 2022 SoHM, staffing and scheduling of adult hospital medicine group will be a key topic of the survey. How does COVID-19 change hospital medicine groups in the medium and long term? One thing is for sure – hospital medicine groups are resilient and have proven to be creative in ensuring our hospitalized patients are well cared for.

Post your thoughts and questions for your peer network on the SHM Online Community: HMX. Let’s keep the conversation going on how we can help each other create sustainable staffing and scheduling models that are continuously adapting to our peripandemic environment.
 

Ms. Trask is national vice president of the Hospital Medicine Service Line at Catholic Health Initiatives in Englewood, Colo.

The Atlanta spa massacre, the commencement of the George Floyd trial, and COVID-19 highlight societal inequalities and health disparities among minority groups. We can only hope that we have arrived at the tipping point to address historical institutional racism and structural violence in this country.

Admittedly, we, as health care professionals, have been at best apathetic and at worst complicit with this tragedy. Dr. James Sims, the father of gynecology, perfected his surgical techniques of vaginal fistula on slaves. Starting in 1845, he performed over thirty surgeries without anesthesia on Anarcha Westcott.¹ Moreover, the past century was dotted with similar transgressions such as the Tuskegee Untreated Syphilis Experiment from 1932 to 1972, the use of the cells of Henrietta Lack in 1951, and the disproportionate lack of funding of sickle cell research.² We must move from complicit/apathetic to being part of the discourse and solution. 

The juxtaposition of George Floyd’s cry of “I can’t breathe” and the disproportionate way in which COVID-19 has affected Black communities and people of color highlights how deeply entrenched the problem of systemic racism is in this country. The innumerable reported hate crimes against Asian Americans stemming from xenophobia linked to the COVID-19 pandemic and the stereotyping of Hispanic Americans as criminals during the last U.S. administration demonstrate that all minority racial/ethnic groups are affected. As clinicians who care for the health of our communities and strive to reduce suffering, we have a responsibility to identify discrimination that exists in the health care system – ranging from subtle implicit bias to overt discrimination.³

Unconscious bias and its effect on diversity and inclusion has only recently been recognized and addressed in the realm of health care as applied to clinicians. This is key to structural racism as providers inadvertently use unconscious bias every day to make their medical decisions quick and efficient. As Dayna Bowen Matthews points out in her book, “Just Medicine,” “where health and health care are concerned, even when implicit biases are based on seemingly benign distinctions, or supported by apparently rational or widely held observations, these biases can cause grave individual, group, and societal harm that is commensurate to and even exceeds the harm caused by outright racism.” To deny the prejudices that providers have when making decisions for patients will perpetuate the racism and hinder our ability to overcome health inequity. Americans of racial and ethnic minorities have a higher incidence of chronic diseases and premature death when compared to white Americans.⁴ These disparities exist even when controlling for individual variations such as availability of health insurance, education, and socioeconomic status.⁵ Social determinants of health because of racial differences is often talked about as a cause of health care inequity, but given the evidence that providers play a much more active role in this, we need to become more comfortable with the discomfort of using the word “racism” if we intend to bring awareness and create change. 

In order to tackle structural racism in health care, organizations must take a multifaceted approach. Evidence-based strategies include: creation of an inclusive workforce, diversification of the workforce to better represent patient populations, and education/training on the effect of implicit bias on equitable health care.⁶ These aspirations can provide a framework for interventions at all levels of health care organizations.

The JEDI (justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion) committee of the section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System came into existence in November 2019. The objective for JEDI was to use evidence-based methods to help create an environment that would lead to the creation of a diverse and inclusive hospital medicine group. Prior to establishing our committee, we interviewed providers from traditional minority groups who were part of our practice to bring clarity to the discrimination faced by our providers from colleagues, staff, and patients. The discrimination varied from microaggressions caused by implicit biases to macroaggression from overt discrimination. We initiated our work on this burning platform by following the evidence-based methods mentioned earlier.
 

Creation of an inclusive workforce. Our working committee included members of varied backgrounds and experiences who were passionate about enhancing equity while focusing on inclusion and wellness. The committee brainstormed ideas for interventions that could make a positive impact for our teammates. Individual providers voted to choose the interventions that would positively impact their inclusion and health. Using a validated survey,⁷ we were able to measure the degree of inclusion of our work group based on multiple demographics including age, gender, race/ethnicity, training (physician vs. APP), etc. Our intention is to complete the proposed interventions before remeasuring inclusion to understand the effect of our work.

Diversifying the workforce. Although our section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System consists of providers self-identifying as people of color, we do not adequately mirror the racial composition of the population we serve. To achieve the desired result, we have made changes to our recruiting program. The section of hospital medicine visibly demonstrates our commitment to diversity and displays our values on our website. We intend for this to attract diverse individuals who would intend to be part of our group.

Education and training on impact of implicit bias on equitable health care. Implicit bias training will have to consist of actions that would help our clinicians recognize their own prejudices and find means to mitigate them. We have committed to bystander education that would give practice and words to our providers to speak up in situations where they see discrimination in the workplace that is directed against patients, staff, and colleagues. A series of open and honest conversations about racial and gender discrimination in health care that involves inviting accomplished speakers from around the country has been planned. Continued attention to opportunities to further awareness on this subject is vital.
 

On Jan. 6, 2021, a day that should have filled citizens with pride and hope with the election of the first Black minister and the first Jewish man to the U.S. Senate in a historically conservative state, as well as the confirmation of the election of a president who pledged to address racial disparities, we instead saw another stark reminder of where we came from and just how far we have to go. White supremacists incited by their perceived threat to a legacy of centuries of suppression transformed into a mob of insurrectionists, blatantly bearing Confederate and Nazi flags, and seemingly easily invaded and desecrated the U.S. Capitol. On March 16, 2021, a white male who was “having a bad day” ended the lives of eight individuals, including six Asian Americans.

These instances have brought forth the reality that many of our interventions have been directed towards subtle prejudices and microaggressions alone. We have skirted around calling out overt discrimination of minority groups and failed to openly acknowledge our own contribution to the problem. This newly found awareness has created an opportunity for more impactful work. The equitable delivery of health care is dependent on creating a patient-provider relationship based on trust; addressing overt discrimination respectfully; and overcoming unconscious bias.

While we have made the commitment to confront structural racism in our workplace and taken important steps to work towards this goal with the initiatives set forth by our JEDI committee, we certainly have a long way to go. George Floyd spent the last 8 minutes and 46 seconds of his life struggling to breathe and asking for his mother. Let’s not waste another second and instead be the change that we seek in health care.
 

Dr. Nagaraj is medical director, Hospital Medicine, at Lexington (N.C.) Medical Center, assistant professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine, and cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, at Wake Forest Baptist Health, Winston-Salem, NC. Ms. Haller is cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, Wake Forest Baptist Health. Dr. Huang is the executive medical director and service line director of general medicine and hospital medicine within the Wake Forest Baptist Health System and associate professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine. The authors would like to acknowledge Dr. Julie Freischlag, Dr. Kevin High, and Dr. David McIntosh at Wake Forest Baptist Health System for the support of the JEDI committee and the section on hospital medicine.

References

1. Holland B. The “father of modern gynecology” performed shocking experiments on enslaved women. History. 2017 Aug 29. www.history.com/news/the-father-of-modern-gynecology-performed-shocking-experiments-on-slaves.

2. Buseh AG et al. Community leaders’ perspectives on engaging African Americans in biobanks and other human genetics initiatives. J Community Genet. 2013 Oct;4(4):483-94. doi: 10.1007/s12687-013-0155-z.

3. National Center for Health Statistics. Health, United States, 2015: With special feature on racial and ethnic health disparities. 2016 May. www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus15.pdf.

4. Bailey ZD et al. Structural racism and health inequities in the USA: evidence and interventions. Lancet. 2017 Apr 8;389(10077):1453-63. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(17)30569-X.

5. Arvizo C and Garrison E. Diversity and inclusion: the role of unconscious bias on patient care, health outcomes and the workforce in obstetrics and gynaecology. Curr Opin Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Oct;31(5):356-62. doi: 10.1097/GCO.0000000000000566.

6. Chung BG et al. Work group inclusion: test of a scale and model. Group & Organization Management. 2020;45(1):75-102. doi: 10.1177/1059601119839858.

The Atlanta spa massacre, the commencement of the George Floyd trial, and COVID-19 highlight societal inequalities and health disparities among minority groups. We can only hope that we have arrived at the tipping point to address historical institutional racism and structural violence in this country.

Admittedly, we, as health care professionals, have been at best apathetic and at worst complicit with this tragedy. Dr. James Sims, the father of gynecology, perfected his surgical techniques of vaginal fistula on slaves. Starting in 1845, he performed over thirty surgeries without anesthesia on Anarcha Westcott.¹ Moreover, the past century was dotted with similar transgressions such as the Tuskegee Untreated Syphilis Experiment from 1932 to 1972, the use of the cells of Henrietta Lack in 1951, and the disproportionate lack of funding of sickle cell research.² We must move from complicit/apathetic to being part of the discourse and solution. 

The juxtaposition of George Floyd’s cry of “I can’t breathe” and the disproportionate way in which COVID-19 has affected Black communities and people of color highlights how deeply entrenched the problem of systemic racism is in this country. The innumerable reported hate crimes against Asian Americans stemming from xenophobia linked to the COVID-19 pandemic and the stereotyping of Hispanic Americans as criminals during the last U.S. administration demonstrate that all minority racial/ethnic groups are affected. As clinicians who care for the health of our communities and strive to reduce suffering, we have a responsibility to identify discrimination that exists in the health care system – ranging from subtle implicit bias to overt discrimination.³

Unconscious bias and its effect on diversity and inclusion has only recently been recognized and addressed in the realm of health care as applied to clinicians. This is key to structural racism as providers inadvertently use unconscious bias every day to make their medical decisions quick and efficient. As Dayna Bowen Matthews points out in her book, “Just Medicine,” “where health and health care are concerned, even when implicit biases are based on seemingly benign distinctions, or supported by apparently rational or widely held observations, these biases can cause grave individual, group, and societal harm that is commensurate to and even exceeds the harm caused by outright racism.” To deny the prejudices that providers have when making decisions for patients will perpetuate the racism and hinder our ability to overcome health inequity. Americans of racial and ethnic minorities have a higher incidence of chronic diseases and premature death when compared to white Americans.⁴ These disparities exist even when controlling for individual variations such as availability of health insurance, education, and socioeconomic status.⁵ Social determinants of health because of racial differences is often talked about as a cause of health care inequity, but given the evidence that providers play a much more active role in this, we need to become more comfortable with the discomfort of using the word “racism” if we intend to bring awareness and create change. 

In order to tackle structural racism in health care, organizations must take a multifaceted approach. Evidence-based strategies include: creation of an inclusive workforce, diversification of the workforce to better represent patient populations, and education/training on the effect of implicit bias on equitable health care.⁶ These aspirations can provide a framework for interventions at all levels of health care organizations.

The JEDI (justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion) committee of the section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System came into existence in November 2019. The objective for JEDI was to use evidence-based methods to help create an environment that would lead to the creation of a diverse and inclusive hospital medicine group. Prior to establishing our committee, we interviewed providers from traditional minority groups who were part of our practice to bring clarity to the discrimination faced by our providers from colleagues, staff, and patients. The discrimination varied from microaggressions caused by implicit biases to macroaggression from overt discrimination. We initiated our work on this burning platform by following the evidence-based methods mentioned earlier.
 

Creation of an inclusive workforce. Our working committee included members of varied backgrounds and experiences who were passionate about enhancing equity while focusing on inclusion and wellness. The committee brainstormed ideas for interventions that could make a positive impact for our teammates. Individual providers voted to choose the interventions that would positively impact their inclusion and health. Using a validated survey,⁷ we were able to measure the degree of inclusion of our work group based on multiple demographics including age, gender, race/ethnicity, training (physician vs. APP), etc. Our intention is to complete the proposed interventions before remeasuring inclusion to understand the effect of our work.

Diversifying the workforce. Although our section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System consists of providers self-identifying as people of color, we do not adequately mirror the racial composition of the population we serve. To achieve the desired result, we have made changes to our recruiting program. The section of hospital medicine visibly demonstrates our commitment to diversity and displays our values on our website. We intend for this to attract diverse individuals who would intend to be part of our group.

Education and training on impact of implicit bias on equitable health care. Implicit bias training will have to consist of actions that would help our clinicians recognize their own prejudices and find means to mitigate them. We have committed to bystander education that would give practice and words to our providers to speak up in situations where they see discrimination in the workplace that is directed against patients, staff, and colleagues. A series of open and honest conversations about racial and gender discrimination in health care that involves inviting accomplished speakers from around the country has been planned. Continued attention to opportunities to further awareness on this subject is vital.
 

On Jan. 6, 2021, a day that should have filled citizens with pride and hope with the election of the first Black minister and the first Jewish man to the U.S. Senate in a historically conservative state, as well as the confirmation of the election of a president who pledged to address racial disparities, we instead saw another stark reminder of where we came from and just how far we have to go. White supremacists incited by their perceived threat to a legacy of centuries of suppression transformed into a mob of insurrectionists, blatantly bearing Confederate and Nazi flags, and seemingly easily invaded and desecrated the U.S. Capitol. On March 16, 2021, a white male who was “having a bad day” ended the lives of eight individuals, including six Asian Americans.

These instances have brought forth the reality that many of our interventions have been directed towards subtle prejudices and microaggressions alone. We have skirted around calling out overt discrimination of minority groups and failed to openly acknowledge our own contribution to the problem. This newly found awareness has created an opportunity for more impactful work. The equitable delivery of health care is dependent on creating a patient-provider relationship based on trust; addressing overt discrimination respectfully; and overcoming unconscious bias.

While we have made the commitment to confront structural racism in our workplace and taken important steps to work towards this goal with the initiatives set forth by our JEDI committee, we certainly have a long way to go. George Floyd spent the last 8 minutes and 46 seconds of his life struggling to breathe and asking for his mother. Let’s not waste another second and instead be the change that we seek in health care.
 

Dr. Nagaraj is medical director, Hospital Medicine, at Lexington (N.C.) Medical Center, assistant professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine, and cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, at Wake Forest Baptist Health, Winston-Salem, NC. Ms. Haller is cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, Wake Forest Baptist Health. Dr. Huang is the executive medical director and service line director of general medicine and hospital medicine within the Wake Forest Baptist Health System and associate professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine. The authors would like to acknowledge Dr. Julie Freischlag, Dr. Kevin High, and Dr. David McIntosh at Wake Forest Baptist Health System for the support of the JEDI committee and the section on hospital medicine.

References

1. Holland B. The “father of modern gynecology” performed shocking experiments on enslaved women. History. 2017 Aug 29. www.history.com/news/the-father-of-modern-gynecology-performed-shocking-experiments-on-slaves.

2. Buseh AG et al. Community leaders’ perspectives on engaging African Americans in biobanks and other human genetics initiatives. J Community Genet. 2013 Oct;4(4):483-94. doi: 10.1007/s12687-013-0155-z.

3. National Center for Health Statistics. Health, United States, 2015: With special feature on racial and ethnic health disparities. 2016 May. www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus15.pdf.

4. Bailey ZD et al. Structural racism and health inequities in the USA: evidence and interventions. Lancet. 2017 Apr 8;389(10077):1453-63. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(17)30569-X.

5. Arvizo C and Garrison E. Diversity and inclusion: the role of unconscious bias on patient care, health outcomes and the workforce in obstetrics and gynaecology. Curr Opin Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Oct;31(5):356-62. doi: 10.1097/GCO.0000000000000566.

6. Chung BG et al. Work group inclusion: test of a scale and model. Group & Organization Management. 2020;45(1):75-102. doi: 10.1177/1059601119839858.

The Atlanta spa massacre, the commencement of the George Floyd trial, and COVID-19 highlight societal inequalities and health disparities among minority groups. We can only hope that we have arrived at the tipping point to address historical institutional racism and structural violence in this country.

Admittedly, we, as health care professionals, have been at best apathetic and at worst complicit with this tragedy. Dr. James Sims, the father of gynecology, perfected his surgical techniques of vaginal fistula on slaves. Starting in 1845, he performed over thirty surgeries without anesthesia on Anarcha Westcott.¹ Moreover, the past century was dotted with similar transgressions such as the Tuskegee Untreated Syphilis Experiment from 1932 to 1972, the use of the cells of Henrietta Lack in 1951, and the disproportionate lack of funding of sickle cell research.² We must move from complicit/apathetic to being part of the discourse and solution. 

The juxtaposition of George Floyd’s cry of “I can’t breathe” and the disproportionate way in which COVID-19 has affected Black communities and people of color highlights how deeply entrenched the problem of systemic racism is in this country. The innumerable reported hate crimes against Asian Americans stemming from xenophobia linked to the COVID-19 pandemic and the stereotyping of Hispanic Americans as criminals during the last U.S. administration demonstrate that all minority racial/ethnic groups are affected. As clinicians who care for the health of our communities and strive to reduce suffering, we have a responsibility to identify discrimination that exists in the health care system – ranging from subtle implicit bias to overt discrimination.³

Unconscious bias and its effect on diversity and inclusion has only recently been recognized and addressed in the realm of health care as applied to clinicians. This is key to structural racism as providers inadvertently use unconscious bias every day to make their medical decisions quick and efficient. As Dayna Bowen Matthews points out in her book, “Just Medicine,” “where health and health care are concerned, even when implicit biases are based on seemingly benign distinctions, or supported by apparently rational or widely held observations, these biases can cause grave individual, group, and societal harm that is commensurate to and even exceeds the harm caused by outright racism.” To deny the prejudices that providers have when making decisions for patients will perpetuate the racism and hinder our ability to overcome health inequity. Americans of racial and ethnic minorities have a higher incidence of chronic diseases and premature death when compared to white Americans.⁴ These disparities exist even when controlling for individual variations such as availability of health insurance, education, and socioeconomic status.⁵ Social determinants of health because of racial differences is often talked about as a cause of health care inequity, but given the evidence that providers play a much more active role in this, we need to become more comfortable with the discomfort of using the word “racism” if we intend to bring awareness and create change. 

In order to tackle structural racism in health care, organizations must take a multifaceted approach. Evidence-based strategies include: creation of an inclusive workforce, diversification of the workforce to better represent patient populations, and education/training on the effect of implicit bias on equitable health care.⁶ These aspirations can provide a framework for interventions at all levels of health care organizations.

The JEDI (justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion) committee of the section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System came into existence in November 2019. The objective for JEDI was to use evidence-based methods to help create an environment that would lead to the creation of a diverse and inclusive hospital medicine group. Prior to establishing our committee, we interviewed providers from traditional minority groups who were part of our practice to bring clarity to the discrimination faced by our providers from colleagues, staff, and patients. The discrimination varied from microaggressions caused by implicit biases to macroaggression from overt discrimination. We initiated our work on this burning platform by following the evidence-based methods mentioned earlier.
 

Creation of an inclusive workforce. Our working committee included members of varied backgrounds and experiences who were passionate about enhancing equity while focusing on inclusion and wellness. The committee brainstormed ideas for interventions that could make a positive impact for our teammates. Individual providers voted to choose the interventions that would positively impact their inclusion and health. Using a validated survey,⁷ we were able to measure the degree of inclusion of our work group based on multiple demographics including age, gender, race/ethnicity, training (physician vs. APP), etc. Our intention is to complete the proposed interventions before remeasuring inclusion to understand the effect of our work.

Diversifying the workforce. Although our section of hospital medicine at Wake Forest Baptist Health System consists of providers self-identifying as people of color, we do not adequately mirror the racial composition of the population we serve. To achieve the desired result, we have made changes to our recruiting program. The section of hospital medicine visibly demonstrates our commitment to diversity and displays our values on our website. We intend for this to attract diverse individuals who would intend to be part of our group.

Education and training on impact of implicit bias on equitable health care. Implicit bias training will have to consist of actions that would help our clinicians recognize their own prejudices and find means to mitigate them. We have committed to bystander education that would give practice and words to our providers to speak up in situations where they see discrimination in the workplace that is directed against patients, staff, and colleagues. A series of open and honest conversations about racial and gender discrimination in health care that involves inviting accomplished speakers from around the country has been planned. Continued attention to opportunities to further awareness on this subject is vital.
 

On Jan. 6, 2021, a day that should have filled citizens with pride and hope with the election of the first Black minister and the first Jewish man to the U.S. Senate in a historically conservative state, as well as the confirmation of the election of a president who pledged to address racial disparities, we instead saw another stark reminder of where we came from and just how far we have to go. White supremacists incited by their perceived threat to a legacy of centuries of suppression transformed into a mob of insurrectionists, blatantly bearing Confederate and Nazi flags, and seemingly easily invaded and desecrated the U.S. Capitol. On March 16, 2021, a white male who was “having a bad day” ended the lives of eight individuals, including six Asian Americans.

These instances have brought forth the reality that many of our interventions have been directed towards subtle prejudices and microaggressions alone. We have skirted around calling out overt discrimination of minority groups and failed to openly acknowledge our own contribution to the problem. This newly found awareness has created an opportunity for more impactful work. The equitable delivery of health care is dependent on creating a patient-provider relationship based on trust; addressing overt discrimination respectfully; and overcoming unconscious bias.

While we have made the commitment to confront structural racism in our workplace and taken important steps to work towards this goal with the initiatives set forth by our JEDI committee, we certainly have a long way to go. George Floyd spent the last 8 minutes and 46 seconds of his life struggling to breathe and asking for his mother. Let’s not waste another second and instead be the change that we seek in health care.
 

Dr. Nagaraj is medical director, Hospital Medicine, at Lexington (N.C.) Medical Center, assistant professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine, and cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, at Wake Forest Baptist Health, Winston-Salem, NC. Ms. Haller is cochair, JEDI committee for diversity and inclusion, hospital medicine, Wake Forest Baptist Health. Dr. Huang is the executive medical director and service line director of general medicine and hospital medicine within the Wake Forest Baptist Health System and associate professor at Wake Forest School of Medicine. The authors would like to acknowledge Dr. Julie Freischlag, Dr. Kevin High, and Dr. David McIntosh at Wake Forest Baptist Health System for the support of the JEDI committee and the section on hospital medicine.

References

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2. Buseh AG et al. Community leaders’ perspectives on engaging African Americans in biobanks and other human genetics initiatives. J Community Genet. 2013 Oct;4(4):483-94. doi: 10.1007/s12687-013-0155-z.

3. National Center for Health Statistics. Health, United States, 2015: With special feature on racial and ethnic health disparities. 2016 May. www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/hus15.pdf.

4. Bailey ZD et al. Structural racism and health inequities in the USA: evidence and interventions. Lancet. 2017 Apr 8;389(10077):1453-63. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(17)30569-X.

5. Arvizo C and Garrison E. Diversity and inclusion: the role of unconscious bias on patient care, health outcomes and the workforce in obstetrics and gynaecology. Curr Opin Obstet Gynecol. 2019 Oct;31(5):356-62. doi: 10.1097/GCO.0000000000000566.

6. Chung BG et al. Work group inclusion: test of a scale and model. Group & Organization Management. 2020;45(1):75-102. doi: 10.1177/1059601119839858.