The Eyes of COVID

We read so much into facial expressions. Often described as the windows to the soul, the eyes are all we have left in a world of mask wearing.  Now a days one may put on a smile but if it doesn't reach the eyes, no one will ever know that we even tried. Eyes easily convey emotions of fear, stress, exhaustion, hope and joy. Through our eyes we show personal connection, focusing on the person before us, letting them know that what they are saying is important. As grateful as I am to have video conferencing technology, it is hard to look someone square in the eye on Zoom. 

The eyes tell me how sick someone is. Glassed over, easily distracted, drifting eyes tell me that someone is struggling. Wide eyes, showing more of the white, with quick, distracted darting movements tell me someone is anxious and fearful. Often, when following up with a patient, I'll walk in a room and immediately sense that they are doing better. Their body language shows comfort, positive energy but mostly I see it in their eyes.  I thought it might be interesting to share some of the windows into my experience with COVID through the eyes that I have seen. 

His are tired eyes. I can easily tell his energy is low. His chest xray shows viral pneumonia and his oxygen levels are borderline low. He is not sick enough to go to the hospital but he is not far from it. He needs to stay home and rest. When I tell him how long he needs to stay self isolated, the eyes change. The muscles at the edges contract quickly in annoyance, glaring just a bit, followed by a resigned sigh and a hint of rolling. I get it, he doesn't get paid if he doesn't work. He has gone to work not feeling well  many times before. I ask him to stay home not for just his own benefit but for all those with whom he could come in contact. This infection is different.

These eyes showed some irritation and anger. I had just asked her to be tested for COVID due to the persistent cough she has had for over a week. She has been doing everything right. She has not expanded her social bubble, has worked from home,  and has been wearing an N95 mask on the rare occasions when she has left the house. She has even helped design the protocols to keep the children safe at her children's school where there has not been a single case reported. How could I ask her to get tested? And yet her children had coughed a bit and she didn't want it to turn into pneumonia. Of course, I wanted her to get tested. Twenty to forty percent of all those who spread the disease have no idea that they are carrying the virus. Most become symptomatic a few days later but by then it is too late. Still, she refused to get tested. 

Looking into these eyes I find love and acceptance tinged with the regret of just one bad decision. Her and her husband don't declare their faith, they live it. Now in their retirement, they moved far away to be near family but on Tuesdays they are found giving food to the poor.  Being elderly, they know they are vulnerable so they have been careful and cautious. The only social gathering they have been to was the funeral of a family member. "I knew I shouldn't have agreed, but we drove to the cemetery from the church with two cousins." It was a twenty minute drive and though they had on their masks, the cousins did not and were "coughing all over the place." Later, the cousins were hospitalized and one is still on oxygen. My patients thankfully recovered nicely after feeling horrible for a few days.

As I activated  the Zoom call, I couldn't see her eyes at all. She was asleep at the table in front of me. I waved to the screen to no avail so I picked up the phone and called her at home. She wasn't at home. She was at work where she cares for children. She gets this every year, she says. It is just a cold, though she agreed that this one was pretty bad. Could she get a rapid test? You see the fall festival feast was the next day and it was important that she make it. Besides that, she had received an email this last week from her boss telling everyone to not call in sick as there were no backup workers available. I explained that it was important for her to stay home to not only recover but to also protect the children and their families. In her condition, there would not be a test that could rule out COVID. The chance of a false negative result was too high. Her eyes showed understanding but were oh so tired. We agreed to touch base again in a week and she would go get tested the next day. 

I am used to seeing fear in the eyes of those I see in the respiratory clinic. Compounding the fear they bring to their visit,  I walk in the room looking like someone out of a horror film. On top of my scrubs, I don the cafeteria worker's hair net, booties over my shoes and a full length protective gown tied in the back. I have gloves that seal the gown at my wrists. Up top, my reading glasses are perched, librarian style on my nose so I can tip my head to look through them to see up close or peer over them to look at the patient. The N-95 has been fit tightly over my face. I test it by exhaling sharply and making sure there are no leaks. It will stay on my face the entire shift. I place a surgical mask over the first, that keeps me from touching the N-95. The face shield straps over all of this and extends past my chin. The stethoscope slides under the shield. It is cleansed after each use and is a dedicated, augmented scope used only in that clinic. The amplified sounds from it are helpful as there are loud blowers in the rooms that suck air out, making sure that there are no air currents that come out to the rest of the clinic. As such, when I come into the room, I am quite the spectacle. 

Last week I saw two patients who already knew they had COVID. They couldn't go to their normal doctor. We keep such patients out of the clinic to protect the others. Both patients continued to cough and were worried about getting worse. Neither one wanted to be in the emergency room. Nearly shouting due to the noise in the room, I explained who I was. I listened to their concerns and examined their lungs. We did chest x-rays, finding their lungs to be clear. I was able to reassure them that their oxygen levels looked good. They both looked me square in the eye with appreciation and gratitude. They were thankful that we have created the Respiratory Care Clinic. Their fear was assuaged. 

For the last few months I have been blessed to have four little eyes follow me around the house. These eyes have no duplicity. Sure, they can show anger and disaapointment but most of the time they show pure love and acceptance. As I leave for work, their little feet run to give me a hug goodbye, "see you later alligator!" cries the older grandchild. "ee-ah-aaga-awawawer," cries the not quite two year old. "After a while crocodile," I return and jump in the car for another day. We have also brought my elderly mother into our bubble recently. Empty nesters a year ago, we now have a four generation home. I am constantly aware of possibly bringing the virus back into my home.   I, like you, look into the mirror each day and see my own eyes and tell myself that I can do this. We must stay focused on the task at hand. The hospitals are filling up. There are many whose eyes will never open again if we don't prevent further infections.  Just waiting for a vaccine is not acceptable. We must stay strong and never ever give up.

COVID Fatigue

Are you as tired of this pandemic as I am? The mask wearing, all day long; dressing in scrubs every morning; doing my temperature check and symptom screen; sanitizing my hands over and over and over again till my skin is dry, rough and raw-I am getting tired of all these things.  I am tired of looking at other countries who have a unified, cohesive approach and are doing so much better than we are.  For goodness sakes there are more cases of COVID-19 in the White House than in the WHOLE country of Taiwan!  I am tired of disinformation, of conspiracy theories and the constant barrage of bickering.  Lately, I am getting tired of seeing 4-5 new patients a day come down with the disease, almost all of which are over 70 years old.  

These are the patients that I worry about the most.  Almost all of them have gotten the disease from family members.  As families have tired of the precautions, the kids and young adults have expanded their circles which fueled the case numbers through late summer and early fall.  Very few of them have gotten critically ill but here is the catch-they all have grandparents.  What we are seeing now is the maturation of this whole process.  Through most of the pandemic, I would only see a few patients in the respiratory clinic who had COVID and were ill. Most, though, were well but needed to be reassured.  The last two weeks has been decidedly different.  Three to four of the patients would already be diagnosed with COVID but were getting worse and needed further evaluation.  Of the remaining, most would have been exposed to someone with a known case of the disease.  Last week, for the first time, I sent a patient to the Emergency Room with shortness of breath, horrible sounding lungs and an oxygen saturation in the low 70's (normal above 90%). 

That night I experienced another form of COVID-19 fatigue-I was simply exhausted.  Caring for such patients takes an emotional toll.  I had a bit of a headache and was feeling a bit achey when I went to bed.  As I slept, I dreamt of being exposed to White House Staffers. They were literally chasing me!  I woke at 1:00 AM convinced that I had come down with the disease. Panicking, I slipped out of bed and went to the other room to be away from my wife.  I was able to calm down and get back to sleep (after terrifying my poor wife) and in the morning, instead of calling my partners to have them cover for me and go in and get tested, I realized that I was fine. I had no fever, no headache.  There was no cough, loss of taste/smell. I just needed some rest.  Certainly, I must be stressing out about this in my subconscious more than I realize when fully awake.  

St. Louis Area Hospitalizations

I understand that the vast majority of people who contract the virus have mild disease and do just fine.  I have literally ridden the tires off of my bike this summer and am in as a good of shape as I have ever been. My chance of severe disease is quite low.  That said, I am not willing to voluntarily take that chance. Hospitalizations in our area, which have been stagnant for many months are on the rise again. Deaths will surely follow.  A man in Nevada who had the virus in April was infected four months later. Analysis showed that the genetic composition of the earlier virus was distinct from the latter.  SARS CoV2 has already started to mutate.  This does not bode well for a successful vaccine. That said, there is a tremendous amount of research being done on this virus by very smart people.  Lessons learned now will not only be of use against COVID, but will transform our ability to fight other diseases as well. This pandemic will pass but it will take some time. 

Now is not the time to let COVID fatigue lower our defenses.  We must stay vigilant and do the simple things that will keep transmission down.  Masks are effective. Social distancing works.  Avoiding enclosed spaces with lots of other people is crucial. We must take the most care around those at higher risk.  They are not an "acceptable casualty" in this war on health.  You and I must keep forging ahead, fatigued or not. 

Good Job

Some days I come home and the mental stress of the day envelopes me like a lead vest, causing me to feel physically heavy which leaves me totally exhausted.  Most of the stress that I feel are the compilations of the many decisions that I must make every day to take care of patients. On top of that is the stress of missing clues, symptoms or lab results that may point to a diagnosis that was previously not considered.  This is the stress that keeps doctors awake at night. This is the stress that drives me to my knees.  Physicians are human too. We make mistakes. We are not perfect. This week has been heavier than others. I have struggled to help diagnose a condition in a patient who is struggling.  He is frustrated and so am I. 

On my way home from work I listened to an interview on the radio with Alicia Keys who just released an new album.  One of the songs is entitled, "Good Job."  It struck a strong chord with me today.  It's chorus was a jolt of positive energy that lifted my spirits. 

"You're doing a good job, a good job

You're doing a good job

Don't get too down

The world needs you now

Know that you matter"

Apparently this is the message that I needed to hear today. As I sat down to my computer this morning at work and started going through my messages, I received one from a patient who simply sent me a note thanking me for his life.  Twenty years ago today he came to see me.  As I examined him I detected a lump in his thigh.  It felt pretty much like a lipoma (fatty benign tumor) which I routinely tell patients not to worry about. This one felt just a bit different, more fixed to the deeper layers.  I was so close to telling him it was just fine but decided to scan it.  It turned out to be a lipomyosarcoma, a much more rare and often deadly cancer.  He had a deep resection followed by radiation and has had no recurrence.  He has continued to stay active, running marathons, biking and is now enjoying his four grandchildren.  He expressed gratitude not only for that diagnosis but for the persistent checkups and care through the years.  In a way his praise is terrifying as I know how close I was to not pursuing the testing.  This afternoon, Alicia Keys' song was as if she were singing just to me.  It was music to my ears. 

This time of the COVID-19 pandemic has been stressful for so many people.  We could all use a "good job" now and then.  I am grateful for those that help me do my job.  I have a fantastic team at my office consisting of my nurse practitioner, our assistants and secretary. They always have my back, keep me going and help my smile.  I couldn't do what I do without them. I also have support staff at the respiratory clinic who bravely come to work in the face of certain exposure day after day.  My partners in the office have always been there for me. I will always be grateful that they allowed me time off last year to spend with my father.  

Above all, I would like to nominate my wife for doing a good job.  I have been the source of more than her fair share of worry and stress this year.  She is always there for me and keeps our family together.  We have shared our burdens. We have cried together, laughed together, prayed together and loved each other.  I am more than grateful to her and for all my many blessings.  

I would love to know who you would nominate for doing a "Good Job."  We can all use a little lifting, a little gratitude

COVID Lessons

The pandemic has been with us know for nearly five months.  I thought I would share some of the lessons that I have learned during this time from my perspective as an Internal Medicine physician. I may not be completely on the front lines but I have a pretty good view from the second row seats.  

1. Pandemics require a concerted coordinated response. Our country has great medical care but unfortunately our public health is sorely lacking and not just for the response to this virus.  We do not take great care of all of our citizens, just those with the means to access all that we have to offer. As the pandemic approached, I seriously thought that the CDC would jump to the forefront and direct our efforts throughout the country as a whole.  Instead, we stumbled out of the gate due to a decision not to use the material from the WHO to develop tests.  From the beginning we were hamstrung by an inability to test and curb the disease.  Our ability to track and trace contacts is almost nonexistent depending on local jurisdictions with no federal guidance.  Our president refuses to take a stand, let alone wear a mask.  Countries with strong central government have fared better. 

2. Flattening the curve worked. Initially our hospitals were headed towards the disaster of being over capacity with scarce resources running out.  Shutting down society averted that catastrophe but came at a big price.  Other countries who had a vigorous testing program in place coupled with strict track and tracing procedures were able to do a much better job without complete economic standstill (think South Korea, Singapore, and even China).  In a surgical analogy, they used a scalpel and we tried to make do with a sledge hammer.  

3. Corona is prejudiced.  The virus does not care who it infects, all of us are equally likely to contract the disease.  It will, however, disable and kill the elderly and those with chronic medical conditions at a much higher rate.  Obesity has turned out to be one of the greatest risk factors for more severe lung disease.  There is much more to this infection than dying.  It can be a devastatingly disabling disease. Though I have not had any of my patients due from COVID, many have gotten quite ill.  I recently spoke to a patient in her 50's that was in the hospital for two weeks.  She has now been home for another week and still could not finish a sentence without coughing.  She was excited to be improving to the point where she could almost finish taking a shower without stopping to rest. 

4. My patients eat out too much.  There may be many who have sat home and gained weight during this pandemic but I have encountered a lot of my patients who have finally had time to exercise, cook and eat right since they are not going out to restaurants like before.  They have lost weight, their blood pressure is better and their diabetes is now controlled. Now, if we can just keep that going!

5. Life still happens.  There may have been a momentary pause on health care utilization due to fear of the virus but cancer still raged, hearts were attacked, brains were stroked and kidneys still failed.  I have seen more than the average number of patients die this summer.  Many could not spend their last days with family members due to the virus.  The stress of all of this has been hard on so many people.  That has been hard to watch.  When possible, I have tried to make sure that dying patients can do so at home on hospice so that family can be near.  

6. Zoom is pretty cool.  Most of us are now rather adept at videoconferencing.  It is a great way to stay in touch with family, to attend church meetings and to even conduct business.  I have no doubt that in many forms, this is here to stay.  

7. Faith and Family is my first focus.  When I first learned about working with COVID patients my son gave me a priesthood blessing (pronounced a prayer on my head).  It was a powerful experience for me.  I was promised that angels would watch over me including my father who passed away last September.  Today as I prepared to work in our Respiratory Clinic and would assuredly be exposed to COVID patients again, I thought to myself, "ok, Dad, I need you with me today."  I have faith that his spirit lives on and that he is indeed there by my side.  I know that my faith in God does not keep me from hard times but it has strengthened me so that I can bear them up with ease.  

8. We are in this together. The virus is not going away soon.  I am more than grateful to work with like minded colleagues who will do whatever it takes to care for those that need it.  I have a team at work that shows up day after day knowing they could be in harms way.  My family is at higher risk because I am in their lives but put their trust and love in me without question.  I am grateful to those I see who are clearly being safe by keeping their distance and wearing masks. Pandemics do not last forever.  This too will pass but it may not be for another year or so.  If we all work together, take it seriously and watch out for those around us, we will get through these days just fine. 

My White Privilege

He felt a pop in his chest as he put extra torque on the screw driver lever putting on the trampoline mat for my grandson's visit. Dad and Jack had a special relationship, even separated by 78 years of age. They read books together, took walks together, went on boat rides and shared ice cream.  Dad had a way of making all his grandchildren feel special because he took time with them when it counted.  He himself was raised in a broken family.  His parents divorced when he was about 9 years old.  He missed his dad fiercely and craved to have that paternal influence in his life.  My grandparents were eventually remarried but there were critical years when my father needed him most and he wasn't there.  Dad vowed to be there for his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren and he was until the very end.  That pop turned out to be a fractured sternum riddled with metastatic melanoma skin cancer. It was right about a year ago and progressed to his death in September. 

This is my first Father's Day without my dad, my hero.  Was he perfect? Of course not and he would be the first one to tell you that. He was a master of self-deprecation, sarcasm and humor but it was done in such a way that no one ever felt that they were inferior in his presence.  He was a master at making friends and breaking down barriers.  On my knees last night as I said my nightly prayers and thinking of my father, it occurred to me that I have now have two fathers in heaven, my earthly father and my Heavenly Father.  Dad is gone from this world but he is not gone from my life.

This week I watched "The Color Purple."  I hadn't watched this movie for many years.  The acting was phenomenal but it left me feeling quite unsettled.  Set in the generation after slavery, it depicted one of the most shackling legacies that continued past emancipation; that of the cruelty with which men treated women and the children in their lives. Men learned the horrible lessons of aggression taught by the example of the slave owners. Arguments were settled with beatings. Children were raped and their children were ripped from their arms and given to others. In contrast to the home I grew up in where my mother and father may have had their share of disagreements, we children always new that they would work things out peacefully and that no matter what we were loved and prized above anything else. 

The root of this certainty comes from our doctrine that we are all children of Heavenly Parents. That our God, Heavenly Father, has an eternal partner who raised us as spirit children in a heavenly home and that we were sent to this earth to learn how to return.  His is our Eternal King and she our Queen.  The family unit is divinely appointed and critical in our ability to learn those lessons.

In our church we worship in chapels each Sunday but we also have temples where we make promises to God on how we live our life.  We are taught God's plan for our happiness and learn about our first parents, Adam and Eve.  It is very clear that Eve was the first one to understand that in order to have children according to this plan, they would need to leave the garden and so she partook of the fruit. Adam was slower to understand this concept but chose to be with her through thick and thin.  Said Eve of the experience, "Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and the joy of our redemption" (Moses 5:11). We believe that our salvation has everything to do with what kind of family member we are.  We also believe that since we are all children of Heavenly Parents, we are literally brothers and sisters, "black and white, male and female...all are alike unto God" (2 Nephi 26:33).

In our temples everyone wears white clothing.  This is a symbol of purity, of being washed clean through the blood of Jesus Christ. It has nothing to do with race. In fact, as all who enter the temple wear this same clothing. Distinctions of race and economic station dissolve into a state of equality.  It is a beautiful place to be, truly heaven on earth. During the pandemic and time of quarantine, we have not been able to gather and worship together in our chapels or our temples.  Though this has left a void in our hearts, we have had the sacred experience of worshiping together in our homes. 

So in these days of unrest, confusion and fear, I can still feel peace.  When I consider how fortunate I am for the privileges that I enjoy, I recognize that being Caucasian, I have access to privileges that others of color do not. My greatest privilege, though, is free to all, that of being washed white by the blood of the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ.  This most important of my "white" privileges enables me to one day return to my heavenly home.  There I long to be embraced by both my Heavenly Fathers who I miss so much. 

A Symbol of Hope

Remembering the Fallen, Honoring the Flag

 

On June 14, 1885 a small town school teacher in Wisconsin by the name of Bernard Cigrand, felt inspired to organize his school in paying respect to the American Flag. The day was chosen to commemorate the day when the second continental congress convened in 1777 and decreed that the flag for our country would be composed of 13 stripes, red alternating with white and that the union would be represented by a new constellation of 13 stars on a blue background. The official day was established in 1916.

Amidst the current state of national turmoil and upheaval, I would like to share some of my thoughts about the flag, our country and my hope for the future.

At the time of the revolution the American states were anything but united. Each had its own culture, set of laws and geographic boundaries. They did share the goal of self governance and so came together to fight the common enemy, the English Empire. Many of our Founding Fathers felt driven by a higher power to establish this land. Our pledge of allegiance references “One nation under God.”

In less than 100 years our nation grew to include 34 states. There was, however, one tenet of society that was not based on freedom, equality, “liberty and justice for all.” It was the practice of slavery and it threatened to tear apart the seams of the nation and our flag. At its root, slavery was born on economic greed, first from the slave traders and also from the land owners who bought the slaves. Many of them were "church going, God fearing” people. I can only imagine the mental gymnastics that had to occur to appease their souls. We know that many convinced themselves that their black slaves were less than human or that they had been cursed by God. These beliefs were fiercely held onto because to recognize the humanity of a black person was an open admission of guilt, it would require serious introspection and change. It was a declaration that they personally had desecrated a child of heaven and were living under the condemnation of God. Roots to such ideas permeate the history of my own religious tradition. It is “the nature and disposition of almost all men,” as our own cannon of scripture declares, “as soon as [almost all men] get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion.” At its core, I believe that racist thinking is a misguided form of self justification, an attempt to cover our sins.

The Civil War ensued and stands as a starting point towards true equality among the citizens of our country. The abolition of slavery was a huge step in the right direction but it was only just the beginning. I take heart that this land has always been a land of fresh starts for those willing to try again. Just as the flag has changed to incorporate new states in the heavenly constellation, the deep seeded feelings of bigotry can change as well.  

My church for a time did not allow black members to hold priesthood authority. This was thankfully changed in June of 1978, perhaps a bit late but it was for us another step in the right direction.  In December of 2013 the following was released: "the Church disavows the theories advanced in the past that black skin is a sign of divine disfavor or curse or that it reflects unrighteous actions in a premortal life; that mixed-race marriages are a sin; or that blacks or people of any other race or ethnicity are inferior in any way to anyone else. Church leaders today unequivocally condemn all racism, past and present, in any form." I take hope in seeing that not only can policies be changed but that hearts can be softened. We are coming closer to our doctrine that "The Lord denieth none that cometh unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female;...all are alike unto God." It is well past the time when all are alike unto man as well. 

Clearly as the recent events surrounding the death of George Floyd attest, there is more work to be done. I believe that in this land of "equal opportunity" we need to do more of just that, make opportunity equal.  Our ability to get a good education should not be dependent upon our zip code. Educational excellence will serve to the caste system of economic desparity. I think that many of those in need would benefit more from a paycheck than a payout.  I recently listened to a TED talk by Bryan Stevenson, an attorney who has dedicated his life to those living on death row.  In it he said, "ultimately, you judge the character of a society, not by how they treat their rich and the powerful and the privileged, but by how they treat the poor, the condemned, the incarcerated" (and I add, the sick and the afflicted).

That resonates with me. Only when we create opportunity for all races will we stand united. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free," says the inscription on the Statue of Liberty. This image of free and easy breathing is particularly poignant in reflecting a man suffocated to death by a knee on his neck. So amidst all the uncertainties and mountains yet to climb, on this flag day, I will fly my flag in honor of freedom.  Freedoms that have been fought for and freedoms yet to be fully implemented in all sectors of our society.  I respect those who choose to kneel in front of that flag in honor of those who have fallen, to keep their memory alive.  I will chose to raise my flag with the optimism that all segments of our society can stand united, that divisions can be healed and our nation will become even greater in the days to come.  God bless America, God bless us all. 

Black Lives Matter

Like being rocked to sleep by the gentle oscillations of lapping water in the center of a lake on a summer's day, declining COVID numbers have given the impression perhaps that this pandemic is behind us and all is well.  I was surprised last week when looking at my news feed that of the five featured stories, not one of them mentioned anything about the pandemic.  I, myself, fall into the same category having not posted for a few weeks now.  Society is opening up, my patients are no longer more afraid of seeing me in the office and so my life has gotten increasingly more busy.

In a conversation that I had with our hospital's Chief Medical Officer at the peak of the pandemic he told me, "what I fear the most is complacency."  It is when we decide that wearing our mask is not that important, when washing my hands after everything I touch in the hospital is not really needed, that we will get ourselves into trouble.  It is even harder at home and away from work.  However, like my grandchild in a game of peek a boo, the SARS CoV2 virus lurks in the shadows ready to jump out and cry, "hear I am!"

Here are the latest numbers of patients hospitalized in the St. Louis area as of June 6th:

I like looking at hospitalizations because this is a number that is the most significant from a societal point of view.  If everyone who was ill had mild disease and could stay home, there would be very little disruption to normal society.  We could in essence vaccinate ourselves and develop herd immunity.  It is when the hospitals are overrun with extremely sick patients and our resources are exhausted that drastic measures need to be taken.  At first glance, the graph looks reassuring.  Following the blue line we see a steady decline across the weeks. Looking at the last few days, though, we see that there is a considerable uptick in two of those three days.  Should that trend continue, the blue line will start climbing once again.

In my own experience, I have seen more patients with positive results in the last week than in the few weeks prior.  My sample is small, but every single case has been in the African American community. I find it interesting that in the very week when we are rightly reminded that "Black Lives Matter," there has been very little news reporting on the elevated risk that the SARS CoV2 virus poses to this community right now. I think that the movement that we have seen across the country of solidarity between people of all races has been great. I applaud those who show support while continuing to practice safe guidelines.  A life snuffed out by over aggressive law enforcement is a tragedy.  It is a wrong that cannot be tolerated. I would like to stand up to say that "All Black Lives Matter," not just the ones taken in violence.

My professional life is dedicated to improving the lives of my patients.  I am passionate about preventing disease. I constantly encourage them to eat healthy and get more exercise.  Vaccines have been shown to save lives and the advances in therapeutics have helped to treat many diseases and better manage many chronic ones.  In my experience there are some in the African American community that can be very suspicious of drugs, vaccines and hospitals, and for very good reasons.

In the 1930's The U.S. Public Health System began an experiment in African American men to treat Syphilis called the Tuskegee Study.  In the 1940's penicillin became available and was quickly shown to be an excellent treatment for the disease. However, the trial continued and withheld that treatment in one arm of the study.  The researchers eventually were soundly criticized for not disclosing this information and the community rightly came to feel that they were being treated as experimental lab animals. This well deserved sentiment of mistrust has persisted in some circles for generations.

In 1976 the government pushed a new "Swine Flu" vaccine to prevent an epidemic that year that never materialized.  The vaccine which was used had a higher than average risk of a potentially deadly condition called the "Guillain-Barre" syndrome. Many citizens became leery of government sponsored health campaigns which feeling persists today.

In recent times, it has been well documented that African Americans receive inferior care for similar conditions than their white counterparts.  This is less likely to occur when their doctor is African American but with only 5% of doctors being African American, few have that option.  I would like to believe that these statistics do not apply to myself, but I cannot guarantee that I do not have subconscious racial biases. It is important that I understand this trend so as to maintain a vigilant attitude to prevent it from becoming a reality in my own practice.

Ultimately, if we truly believe that "Black Lives Matter," then we must all work together to make sure that all of them do.  Patients need to trust the doctors that are responsible for their care and heed their advice.  They must chose to adopt healthy habits.  Right now that includes social distancing and the wearing of masks in public. Is there a way to raise our voices without endangering lives during a pandemic?  Gatherings are a powerful symbol of unity but they do carry extra risk. Doctors, for our part, must earn our patient's trust every day by treating each individual with the utmost respect, truly listening to his/her concerns and tirelessly being an advocate in a system that, historically, has not had his/her best interests at heart. We must all be the solution. We are all in this together.