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Legalising medical cannabis in Australia

Introduction

Cannabis was first used in China around 6,000 years ago and is one of the oldest psychotropic drugs known to man. [1] There are several species of cannabis, the most common are Cannabis sativa, Cannabis indica and Cannabis ruderalis. [2] The two main products that are derived from cannabis are, hashish – the thick resin of the plant, and marijuana – the dried flowers and leaves of the plant. [1] Cannabis contains over 460 chemicals and 60 cannabinoids (chemicals that activate cannabinoid receptors in the body). [1,2] The major psychotropic constituent of cannabis is known as delta-9-tetrahydrocanabinol (THC); others include cannabinol and cannabidiol (CBD).

Cannabinoids exert their effect throughout the body through binding with specific cannabinoid receptors. There are two types of cannabinoid receptors found in the body: CB1 and CB2. Both are G-protein coupled plasma membrane receptors. The CB1 receptors are mostly found in the central nervous system, whilst CB2 receptors are mainly associated with immunological cells and lymphoid tissue such as the spleen, tonsils, and thymus. [3,4]

Delta-9-tetrahydrocanabinol (THC) and other cannabinoids are strongly lipophilic and are rapidly distributed around the body. [5] Because of its strong lipophilic nature cannabinoids accumulate in adipose tissue and have a long elimination time of up to 30 days, although the psychoactive effects generally wear off after a few hours. Medical cannabis can be dispensed and taken in a variety of ways including as a herbal cigarette, ingestible forms, or as herbal tea. However, marijuana cigarettes are commonly preferred as they provide higher bioavailability. [5]

Medical marijuana users represent a large range of ages, levels of education attainment, employment statuses, and racial groups. [6] A Californian study examining medical marijuana use showed 76.6% of medical marijuana users use seven grams of marijuana or less per week. Therefore, the majority of medical marijuana users are likely to consume amounts equivalent to mild to moderate recreational cannabis use. [6]

The rescheduling of cannabis in Australia draws strong debate and opinions from both sides of the issue. This article will provide an overview of the most popular arguments for and against the legalisation of cannabis for medicinal purposes.

The legal status of medical marijuana in Australia

Currently cannabis is a Schedule nine drug in all Australian states and territories, placing it in the same category as drugs like heroin and lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD). [7] Legally, drug scheduling in Australia is a state issue, however, all states abide by the federal government’s scheduling of cannabis as a Schedule nine drug, as per the Standard for the Uniform Scheduling of Medicines and Poisons. [7,8] The use of a drug which is classified as Schedule nine for recreational or medical purposes is illegal and a criminal offence. Research into cannabis in Australia is highly restricted. [7] Cannabis use is common in Australia with approximately 40% of Australians aged fourteen years or older saying they have used cannabis, and over 300,000 Australians using it daily. A number of Australians are already self-medicating with cannabis for a range of complaints including chronic pain, depression, arthritis, nausea, and weight loss. However, these people risk legal action from authorities, particularly if cultivating their own cannabis. Moreover, if they purchase cannabis from a dealer they also face quality and supply issues. [9] Proponents of medicinal cannabis envisage a system similar to other drugs of dependence, like opiates, whereby holders of a valid prescription will be able to purchase or access the drug but where recreational use of the drug would still be illegal.

A number of countries have decriminalised cannabis for medical purposes such as the Netherlands, Israel, eighteen states in the United States of America (USA), Canada and Spain. [10] However, the drugs known as Dronabinol (containing just THC), Nabilone (containing a synthetic analogue of THC) and Nabiximols (a spray containing CBD and THC) are available as Schedule eight drugs throughout Australia. [7] Schedule eight drugs are drugs which have a high likelihood for abuse and dependence and require regulation in their distribution and possession. [7,8] However, some claim that these preparations lack many of the cannabinoids found in natural cannabis plants and this leads to different physiological and therapeutic effects compared to natural cannabis. [4] Public support in Australia for medical cannabis is very high with a survey finding 69% of the public supporting the use of medical cannabis and 75% supporting more research into the medical potential of the drug. [11]

Arguments for legalisation

Pain relief

Marijuana has potent analgesic properties which can be used in pain relief for a variety of conditions that can cause intense pain, such as cancer pain and acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS). Marijuana may even provide superior pain relief when compared to opiates and opioids. A parallel study in the United Kingdom (UK) compared the use of a THC and CBD extract, a THC only extract, and a placebo in the treatment of cancer pain. It found that a THC:CBD mixture (such as that found naturally in the cannabis plant) is efficacious for the relief of advanced cancer pain that is not adequately controlled  by opiates alone. [4] Therefore, the legalisation of medical cannabis could relieve pain and improve the quality of life for severely ill patients suffering from a range of painful conditions.

Appetite stimulation

It has been proven in animal studies that THC can have a stimulating effect on appetite and lead to an increase in food intake. [2,5,12,13] There are a large number of clinical applications for THC for appetite stimulating purposes. Conditions which can cause cachexia (uncontrolled wasting) such as HIV/AIDS, cancer, multiple sclerosis (MS), could be treated with THC to stimulate the patient’s appetite, increase food uptake, restore weight, and improve the strength and wellbeing of the patient. [2,13] Human trials in the 1980s which involved healthy control subjects inhaling cannabis found that the cannabis caused an increase caloric intake of 40%. [14] The legalisation of cannabis for medical purposes could help improve both health outcomes and the quality of life in patients suffering from a range of conditions.

Anti-emetic

In Canada and the USA, dronabinol and nabilone have been used in the treatment of chemotherapy induced nausea and vomiting since the 1980s. [15] A systematic literature review found that cannabinoids were more effective than established anti-emetic drugs in its treatment. [16] By reducing or eliminating the often debilitating and painful symptoms of chemotherapy induced nausea and vomiting, medical cannabis is hoped to improve the quality of life for the patient and their family. A reduction in the vomiting and pain associated with chemotherapy may also cause an increase in adherence to chemotherapy by cancer patients and result in better patient outcomes. [2,13] Therefore, the rescheduling of cannabis could prove as a highly effective anti-emetic for cancer patients and could even improve their prognosis by encouraging adherence to chemotherapy.

Neurological conditions

Cannabis may also be used to lessen or alleviate an entire range of symptoms associated with MS and other neurological conditions. A Canadian randomised, placebo-controlled trial investigating the use of smoked cannabis for MS-related muscle spasticity found that cannabis was superior to the placebo in reducing pain and spasticity. [17] Another trial conducted in Canada on the use of smoked cannabis for chronic neuropathic pain found that an inhalation of the cannabis formulation prepared for the trial three times daily for five days reduced pain intensity, improved the quality of sleep, and had minimal adverse effects. [18] The legalisation of medical cannabis could therefore make a significant difference to the lives of the thousands of Australians suffering MS and many other neurological conditions.

Safety and overdosing

Cannabis may also serve as an incredibly safe alternative to groups of medications prescribed for pain, such as opiates. The CB1 cannabinoid receptors are the main receptors responsible for the analgesic effects of cannabis and are located in the brain. However, they are in very low numbers in the regions of the brain stem co-ordinating cardiovascular and respiratory control. [2,19] This means it is essentially impossible to overdose from cannabis. [5] However, opioid receptors are located in this brain stem region hence signifying that opioids can interfere with cardiovascular and respiratory functions and lead to death. [19,20] Prescription opioid deaths are a small but concerning issue throughout developed nations. For example, in 2005 there were over 1,000 deaths related to prescribed oxycodone in the US. [20] Medical marijuana may offer a safer alternative form of pain relief as it removes the risk of accidental overdose which can lead to death.

Arguments against legalisation

Cannabis use and psychiatric disorders

A longstanding argument against the medical use of cannabis has been that exposure to cannabis can lead to the development of psychiatric disorders, namely schizophrenia. A Scottish systematic review of eleven studies investigating the link between marijuana use and schizophrenia supported this view and found that cannabis use did appear to increase the risk of schizophrenia. [21] Another study has also shown that there is an association between heavy cannabis use and depression. [22] Further effects of cannabis induced psychosis can include self-harming and self-mutilating behaviours. [23,24] The relationship between cannabis use and mental health issues appears to be dose-related with higher amounts of marijuana use related to more severe psychiatric complications. [21,22] Some say it would be unethical to prescribe a patient cannabis when there is a risk of the patient developing mental illness and potentially harming themselves or others. Particularly, when there are other drugs available without such adverse effects on mental health and stability.

Public safety

With the legalisation of medicinal cannabis come clear public safety concerns, particularly in the areas of vehicle and pedestrian safety. Cannabis affects the brain and can cause feelings of disorientation, altered visual perception, hallucinations, sleepiness, and poorer psychomotor control. [5,19] A study conducted in California found that on a particular evening, 8.5% of motorists had THC in their system and that holders of a medical cannabis permit were significantly more likely to test positive to THC than those who did not hold a permit. [25] It has also been shown that drivers using cannabis had about three to seven times the risk of being in a motor car collision than drivers who were not using cannabis. [26] However, it is interesting to note that those driving under the influence of alcohol were at a higher risk of having a collision than those using cannabis. [27] Also interesting is the fact that after medical marijuana programs were instituted in the US, traffic fatalities decreased nine percent across the sixteen states which had programs at the time of the study; this is believed to be due to a substitution of alcohol with marijuana. [27,28] Pedestrians and cyclists who are prescribed cannabis are also at higher risks of being injured in a collision. In terms of non-vehicular injuries, an American study showed cannabis use was associated with an increased risk of injuries from causes such as falls, lacerations, and burns. [29] Hence the legalisation of medical cannabis not only poses a risk to the personal safety of the patient but also to the physical safety of the wider community.

Drug diversion

Given the popularity of cannabis as a recreational drug, there is always the risk of wide scale drug diversion occurring–that is people without a prescription for cannabis gaining access to the drug. This can happen in a number of ways like a patient sharing their medication with others or the patient selling their medication. In America diversion of medical marijuana is an increasing issue, particularly amongst adolescents. A study in the state of Colorado in the USA found that out of a group of 164 adolescents at a substance abuse treatment facility, 74% had used someone else’s medical marijuana, with the mean number of times the adolescents had used someone else’s medical marijuana being over 50. [30] Illicit use of cannabis for non-medical purposes exposes people to the damaging physical, mental and social impacts of drug use. There are clear questions surrounding how this would be prevented and how young adults especially could be prevented from accessing cannabis due to diversion. It must be asked whether it is ethically responsible to reschedule marijuana given that such a large number of other people, particularly adolescents, will have access to someone else’s medical cannabis.

Addictiveness and dependence

The legalisation of cannabis as a medication has the potential to cause patients to develop an addiction to the drug and possible dependence. Cannabis dependence is a recognised psychiatric disorder and it is estimated that over one in ten people who try marijuana will become addicted to it at some point. [31] Although dependence to marijuana may be lower than other drugs like, heroin, cocaine and alcohol, users can still face withdraw symptoms including sleep difficulty, cravings, sweating and irritability. [5,32] With the potential of people becoming addicted to medical cannabis and with scarring consequences for their personal life some say it is ethically questionable to subject people to it in the first place.

Availability of cannabinoid and synthetic cannabinoid drugs

Those opposed to cannabis being rescheduled for medical purposes claim that the availability of cannabinoid and synthetic cannabinoid drugs already in Australia namely, Dronabinol, Nabilone and Nabiximols, makes legalising medical cannabis unnecessary. They state that these drugs contain many of the same compounds as cannabis and can be used for treating many of the same conditions. [13] For example, Dronabinol has been shown to be effective in relieving patients suffering chronic pain which is not fully relieved by opiates. [33] Therefore, the cannabinoid medications which are already available in Australia may provide many of the same therapeutic benefits offered by cannabis, and as such rescheduling cannabis would be unnecessary.

Carcinogenicity

Whether marijuana smoke causes cancer, in particular lung cancer, is a subject of much debate and research itself. It is well established that tobacco smoke is carcinogenic and deeply damaging to overall health. [34] With marijuana containing many of the same carcinogens as tobacco, and often being in cigarette form, it is not unreasonable to expect similarly adverse results with cannabis use. [5,35] However, a case-control study by Hashibe et al. [36] found that there was not a strong relationship between marijuana use, even in heavy amounts, and the incidence of oesophageal, pharyngeal, laryngeal, and lung cancer. Some evidence exists, showing that cannabinoids may in fact kill some cancers such as gliomas, lymphomas, lung cancer and leukemia. [37-39] Despite evidence that marijuana smoke contains mutagenic and carcinogenic chemicals, epidemiologically this was not confirmed to be the case. [35,36] Overall the carcinogenic or cancer-fighting properties of marijuana remain unclear and contradictory. More long-term, large population research should be conducted so that the seemingly contradictory nature of the drug can be better understood. [36]

Recommendation

Cannabis offers exciting possibilities for patients afflicted by cancer, HIV/AIDS, MS, chronic pain and other debilitating conditions. Although medical marijuana programs face several obstacles, the benefits offered by medical marijuana and the positive impact this drug could have on the lives of thousands of patients and their families make a strong case for its consideration. The potential drawbacks can be minimised or even overcome through a number of measures, including: the close medical supervision of patients (e.g., proper patient education and monitoring), the creation of  appropriate infrastructure (e.g., medical marijuana dispensaries, as seen in California) and the creation of laws and policies that are not only supportive of medical marijuana patients but will also, minimise the risk the drug poses to the public (e.g., strict penalties for medical marijuana diversion).

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

H Smith: hamish.smith@y7mail.com

References

[1] McKim WA. Drugs and behavior: An introduction to behavioral pharmacology 4th ed. Upper Saddle River: Prentice-Hall Publishing; 2000.

[2] Amar MB. Cannabinoids in medicine: A review of their therapeutic potential. Journal of Ethnopharmacology. 2002;105(1):1–25.

[3] Sylvaine G, Sophie M, Marchand J, Dussossoy D, Carrièr D, Caryon P, et al. Expression of central and peripheral cannabinoid receptors in human immune tissues and leukocyte subpopulations. Eur J Biochem. 2005 Apr;232(1):54–61.

[4] Johnson JR, Burnell-Nugent M, Lossignol D, Gaena-Morton ED, Potts R, Fallon MT. Multicenter, double-blind, randomized, placebo-controlled, parallel-group study of the efficacy, safety, and tolerability of THC: CBD extract and THC extract in patients with intractable cancer-related pain. J Pain Symptom Manage. 2010 Feb;39(2):167-79.

[5] Ashton CH. Pharmacology and effects of cannabis: A brief review. Br J Psychiatry. 2001 Mar:178(2):101-6.

[6] Reinarman C, Nunberg H, Lanthier F, Heddleston T. Who are medical marijuana patients? Population characteristics from nine California assessment clinics. Journal of Psychoactive Drugs. 2011 Jul 43;2:128-35.

[7] National Drugs and Poisons Schedule Committee. Standard for the uniform scheduling of drugs and poisons No. 23. Canberra (ACT): Therapeutic Goods Administration; 2008 Aug. 432 p.

[8] Moulds RF. Drugs and poisons scheduling. Aust Prescr [Internet]. 1997 [Cited 7 Feb 2013];20:12-13. Available from: http://www.australianprescriber.com/magazine/20/1/12/3#qa

[9] Swift W, Hall W, Teeson M. Cannabis use and dependence among Australian adults: Results from the national survey of mental health and wellbeing. Addiction. 2001 May;96(5):737–48.

[10] Marijuana Policy Project (MPP). The Eighteen States and One Federal District With Effective Medical Marijuana Laws. Washington (DC): MPP; 2012 Dec. 19 p.

[11] National Institute of Health and Welfare. The National Drug Strategy Household Survey 2011. Australian Government: Canberra. 2012.

[12] Mechoulam R, Berry EM, Avraham Y. Endocannabinoids, feeding and suckling- from our perspective. Int J Obes. 2006 Apr; 30(1):24-8.

[13] Robson P. Therapeutic aspects of cannabis and cannabinoids. Br J Psychiatry. 2001 Feb;178:107-15.

[14] Foltin RW, Fischman MW, Byrne MF. Effects of smoked marijuana on food intake and body weight of humans living in a residential laboratory. Appetite. 1988 Aug;11(1):1-14.

[15] Sutton IR, Daeninck P. Cannabinoids in the management of intractable chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting and cancer-related pain. J Support Oncol. 2006 Nov;4(10):531-5.

[16] Tramèr MR, Carroll D, Campbell FA. Cannabinoids for control of chemotherapy induced nausea and vomiting: Quantitative systematic review. BMJ. 2001 Jul;323(7303):16-21.

[17] Corey-Bloom J, Wolfson T, Gamst A. Smoked cannabis for spasticity in multiple sclerosis: A randomized, placebo-controlled trial. CMAJ. 2012 Jul;184(10):1143-50.

[18] Ware MA, Wang T, Shapiro S. Smoked cannabis for chronic neuropathic pain: A randomized controlled trial. CMAJ. 2010 Oct;182(14):694-701.

[19] Adams IB, Martin BR. Cannabis: Pharmacology and toxicology in animals and humans. Addiction. 1996 Nov;91(11):1585-1614.

[20] Paulozzi LJ, Ryan GW. Opioid analgesics and rates of fatal drug poisoning in the United States. Am J Prev Med. 2006 Dec;31(6):506-11.

[21] Semple DM, McIntosh AM, Lawrie SM. Cannabis as a risk factor for  psychosis: Systematic review. J Psychopharmacol. 2005 Mar;19(2):187-194.

[22] Degenhardt L, Hall W, Lynskey M. Exploring the association between cannabis use and depression. Addiction. 2003 Nov;98(11):1493-1504.

[23] Khan MK, Usmani MA, Hanif SA. A case of self amputation of penis by cannabis induced psychosis. J Forensic Leg Med. 2012 Aug;19(6):355-7.

[24] Serafini G, Pompili M, Innamorati M, Rihmer Z, Sher L, Girardi P. Can cannabis increase the suicide risk in psychosis? A critical review. Curr Pharm Des. Jun 2012;18(32):5165-87.

[25] Johnson MB, Kelley-Baker T, Voas RB, Lacey JH. The prevalence of cannabis-involved driving in California. Drug Alcohol Depend. Jun 2012;123(1-3):105-9.

[26] Ramaekers JG, Berghaus G, van Laar M, Drummer OH. Dose related risk of motor vehicle crashes after cannabis use. Drug Alcohol Depend. 2004 Feb;73(2):109-19.

[27] Sewell RA, Poling J, Sofuoglu M. The effect of cannabis compared with alcohol on driving. Am J Addict. 2009;18(3):185-93.

[28] Anderson DM, Rees DI. Medical marijuana laws, traffic fatalities, and alcohol consumption. Denver (CO): Institute for the Study of Labor. 2011  Nov. 28 p.

[29] Gerberich SG, Sidney S, Braun BL, Tekawa IS, Tolan KK, Quesenberry CP. Marijuana use and injury resulting in hospitalisation. Annals of Epidemiology. 2003 Apr;13(4):230-7.

[30] Salomonsen-Sautel S, Sakai JT, Thurstone C, Corley R, Hopfer C. Medical marijuana use among adolescents in substance abuse treatment. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry. 2012 Jul;51(7):694–702.

[31] Hall W, Degenhardt L, Lynskey M. The health and psychological effects of cannabis use. Canberra (ACT): Commonwealth Department of Health and Ageing; 2001.

[32] Budney AJ, Vandrey R, Moore BA, Hughes JR. Comparison of tobacco and marijuana withdrawal. J Subst Abuse Treat. 2008 Dec;35(4):362-68.

[33] Narang S, Gibson D, Wasan AD, Ross EL, Michna E, Nedeljkovic SS, et al. Efficacy of dronabinol as an adjuvant treatment for chronic pain patients on opioid therapy. The Journal of Pain. 2008 Mar;9(3):254-64

[34] Thun MJ, Henley SJ, Calle EE. Tobacco use and cancer: An epidemiologic perspective for geneticists. Oncogene. 2002 Oct;21(48):7307-7325.

[35] Hecht SS, Carmella SG, Murphy SE, Foiles PG, Chung FL. Carcinogen biomarkers related to smoking and upper aerodigestive tract cancer. J Cell Biochem Suppl. 1993 Feb;17(1):27-35.

[36] Hashibe M, Morgenstern H, Cui Y, Tashkin DP, Zhang ZF, Cozen W, et al. Marijuana use and the risk of lung and upper aerodigestive tract cancers: Results of a population-based case-control study. Cancer Epidemiol Biomarkers. 2006 Oct;15(1):1829.

[37] Munson AE, Harris LS, Friedman MA, Dewey WL, Carchman RA. Antineoplastic activity of cannabinoids. J Natl Cancer Inst. 1975 55:597-602.

[38] McKallip RJ, Lombard C, Fisher M, Martin BR, Ryu S, Grant S, et al. Targeting CB2 cannabinoid receptors as a novel therapy to treat malignant lymphoblastic disease. Blood. 2002;100:627-34.

[39] Sanchez C, de Ceballos ML, del Pulgar TG, Rueda D, Corbacho C, Velasco G, et al. Inhibition of glioma growth in vivo by selective activation of the CB(2) cannabinoid receptor. Cancer Res 2001, 61:5784-89.

 

 

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The history of breast cancer surgery: Halsted’s radical mastectomy and beyond

Breast cancer is common. One in eight Australian women will be diagnosed by the time they turn 85, and it has been estimated that this year in Australia approximately 14,600 women will receive the diagnosis, around 40 women each day. [1] A significant proportion will undergo surgery, mostly as the first means of treatment. Over the past forty years many advances have been made in the surgical approach to breast cancer. [2] New techniques and approaches have been developed and efforts for further improvements are ongoing. This article will explore the journey that breast surgery has undergone and what we can learn from its evolution.

William Halsted (born 1852) was an American surgeon whose contributions have influenced surgical principles to this day. [3] He is considered one of the ‘Big Four’ founding physicians of John Hopkins Hospital. [4] He pioneered the use of the hospital chart, advocated careful handling of tissue during surgery and stressed the importance of haemostasis. [3-6] His name is also synonymous with the radical mastectomy that he introduced in 1882. [3] At that time attempts at breast surgery had resulted in poor long term results and prognosis. [6,7] This new surgical approach was revolutionary in the treatment of breast cancer. The radical mastectomy was implemented for breast cancer no matter the size of the tumour, type, or the patient’s age. [8] It typically involves removal of all breast tissue, axillary lymph nodes and both pectoralis muscles. [6] It often results not only in severe disfigurement of the patient but also weakened arm function and disabling lymphoedema. [9] Whilst revolutionary at the time it was pioneered by Halsted, it was still widely used in the 1970s with a ‘one size fits all’ approach. [8] That approach is very different to the one taken today. [2,10,11]

While there had been some exploration of modifications to the procedure, such as sparing of the pectoralis muscles, as well as further dissection with removal of the internal mammary nodes, the surgical approach to breast cancer remained relatively static for more than eighty years. [8] Although there are many potential reasons this state of inactivity is surely multifactorial. Feminist authors have claimed that the mastectomy was not altered by male surgeons because of the power and control it gave them; that they had no understanding of the importance of a woman’s breast to a woman and treated patients in response to this view. [12] Others have suggested that Halsted was held in such high regard that no one dared alter his procedure, with surgeons ‘indoctrinated’ into his way of thinking. [12,13] Perhaps it is also that the nature of the disease affected how it was approached, with surgeons hesitant to make changes to a procedure they believed could save the lives of countless women. This seemed to be the case for Halsted himself who suggested, “After all, disability, ever so great, is a matter of very little importance as compared with the life of the patient.” [6] It must be acknowledged that in Halsted’s time there was no method of grading or staging cancers as there is now, a problem he recognised stating, “the importance of such a classification, if it were to any extent possible, is so evident that it is unnecessary to emphasize it.” [7] Had he had such information available to him his approach to individual cases may have varied greatly.

Alterations to the mastectomy were taken cautiously. There were forays into and case reports of the super-radical mastectomy, simple mastectomy and use of radiation therapy, as well as some use of simple excision; however no clear evidence as to the differences was available. [8] In 1969 the World Health Organisation approved a randomised control trial comparing radical mastectomy to the ‘quadrantectomy’. [8] Recruitment began in 1973 of patients staged with T1N0 disease who were aged less than 70 years. The quandrantectomy was combined with complete axillary dissection and postoperative radiotherapy. Early data demonstrated no difference in regards to survival rates, and the similarities in the long term survival rates were confirmed in data released in 2002. [8] In 1971 Fisher et al commenced a randomised trial comparing the radical mastectomy with total mastectomy with or without radiotherapy. [14] Studies such as these heralded the advent of breast conserving surgery and the acknowledgement that routine radical mastectomy may not always be the most appropriate surgical management.

Halsted proposed that although breast cancer begins as a local disease, it spreads in a contiguous manner away from the primary site through the lymphatic system. [6,15] This proposal led to his emphasis on aggressive locoregional treatment to prevent further spread. [6,7,12,15] This principle, however (known as the ‘Halsted Theory’), was also critical in introducing the concept of a sentinel node in relation to breast cancer. [15] Research into the sentinel node led to the use of the sentinel node biopsy which has dramatically influenced surgical management and outcomes for patients. One of the first studies demonstrating the benefits of lymphatic mapping for breast cancer was published by Guiliano et al in 1994. [16] Since that time the evidence, understanding and surgical skills in this area have grown rapidly.

Modern day surgery for breast cancer has changed significantly compared to that performed in the 1970s. The combination of breast conserving surgery alongside a sentinel biopsy allows patients to be left with good cosmetic results. [17,18] Oncoplastic techniques such as remodelling mammoplasty are also being utilised to improve cosmetic outcomes without compromising adequate tumour removal. [19,20] There is still however an appropriate place for the mastectomy. [20] Breast conservation is desirable, but needs to be acceptable cosmetically and not result in compromise to local control of the disease or survival benefit. [17,19,20] If local recurrence does occur following breast conservation, then salvage mastectomy is considered the standard approach, with salvage breast-conserving surgery only currently appropriate for consideration in select patients. [21]

Reconstructive breast surgery is an important part of management utilised by surgeons today. It is significant in improving the psychological morbidity associated with breast cancer surgery, particularly following mastectomy. [2,22] Once again Halsted had an influence in this area of breast surgery. He believed reconstruction was a “violation of the local control of the disease”. [10] Although there were a few early attempts at breast reconstruction by the likes of Czerny, Tanzini and Ombredanne, [23-25] the opinion put forward by Halsted and the view that local recurrence may not be detected if reconstruction occurred caused it to be avoided. [2,10] It seems, however, that surgical exploration of reconstructive procedures during this period was considered more than the possibility of breast conservation was. [8,10] This supports the view that surgeons at the time believed the mastectomy was crucial to life saving treatment and it was this belief that prevented progress to other initial surgical approaches. [13]

Following the introduction of the mastectomy in 1882 there were surgeons willing to attempt reconstructions to improve the quality of life of their patients. [2,10,22] In 1963 these efforts were bolstered by the silicone gel breast implant introduced by Cronin and Gerow. [26] In 1971 Snyderman and Guthrie placed an implant under the chest wall immediately following a mastectomy, as opposed to the delayed technique that had been used, and this was then accepted as the new technique. [27] In 1982 Radovan introduced the concept of skin expanders for those with significant skin deficits so that these patients too could be eligible for reconstructive surgery. [28] Following this skin-sparing mastectomies were introduced, with results demonstrating similar rates of local recurrence. [29] There have also been advances with the use of flaps as a method of reconstruction. [2,10] In regards to reconstruction of the nipple-areola complex, tattooing is now commonplace as initially suggested by Becker in 1986. [30] Today a woman who thirty years ago would have been left with almost no chance of reconstruction can have a relatively symmetrical result. Decisions relating to the method of reconstruction depend on many variables, however it can be seen that important progress has been made in this area of breast surgery. [2,10] This can improve patient perceptions towards treatment and significantly improve their quality of life. [2,22]

The evolution of breast cancer surgery demonstrates important principles when evaluating any surgical procedure. No matter what procedure is undertaken, the most appropriate management needs to be carefully considered with clear clinical reasoning and evidence where available. Despite this there are also many elements which need to be considered when deciding what is most suitable, not all of which are clear without a thorough understanding of both the patient being treated and the disease. The disease cannot be treated in isolation but must be regarded in consideration of the patient’s wishes, and often in regards to other health issues. This is especially true in oncological surgery. Treatment decisions cannot often be made simply or alone. They are best made by the patient and the surgeon as part of a multidisciplinary team. [2,22] With regard to breast cancer the tumour itself plays a critical role – its type, size, determination of its spread to lymph nodes or metastatic sites, and whether it is hormonally responsive. [2,22] The size of the tumour is crucial in determining operability, especially alongside a consideration of the size of the breast itself. Tumour size, breast size and the location are important when assessing for the likelihood of future local recurrence as well as the impact on cosmetic outcomes. [2,11,17]

For the appropriate management to be undertaken the surgeon must obtain as much information as possible. The patient’s family history and potential for a recognisable genetic factor requires thought. [11] Genetics play an increasingly important role in the management of patients with breast cancer. Along with the well-known BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutations, there are other unidentified genes which lead to strong familial associations. [31] Knowledge of these factors impacts on decisions regarding the surgical management of a particular patient as well as other forms of treatment.

Cost and availability of treatment options are also important in the surgical management of breast cancer. Cost is not often seen to impact on the treatment patients receive in Australia, however it can be overlooked, as can the availability of services and travel required to undergo particular surgical options. [2] These factors are much more pronounced in other parts of the world where only the exceptionally wealthy may be eligible for surgery. [32] It is important to consider the impact of a particular surgical treatment on the need for ongoing follow up and the level to which this will be required. [2,11] No matter which surgical approach is taken it is vital that realistic expectations of the prognostic as well as cosmetic results are discussed with each patient prior to surgery.

Surgical excision deals with local, known disease and comes alongside radiotherapy, chemotherapy, hormonal therapy and biological agents where appropriate. [11,22] These other treatment modalities impact on both prognosis and cosmetic results. [2,11,17,18,22] The role of surgery must be considered in relation to these other factors. Management options for breast cancer will continue to expand in coming years as current therapies improve and new ones emerge, requiring ongoing collaboration. [33]

At a multidisciplinary team (MDT) meeting the many stakeholders involved in a patient’s treatment come together. [11,22] No matter which path is chosen for each area of management, it is done in consultation with other experts, with each responsible for justifying their position. [33] Communication barriers are broken down and the full clinical picture is able to be understood by all involved. Although there is variation worldwide as to how MDTs are run, it is perceived that they improve clinical decision making, treatment quality and the practice of evidence based medicine. [33] Interestingly, Halsted himself viewed it as important that the surgeon had an intimate awareness of the pathology which he excised, writing

“There is a gap between the surgeon and pathologist which can be filled only by the surgeon. The pathologist seldom has the opportunity to see diseased conditions as the surgeon sees them. A tumor on a plate and a tumor in the breast of a patient, how different!” [7]

Halsted seemed to advocate that the surgeon’s interest and understanding of the pathology was more significant than that of the pathologist. The recognition of multi-disciplinary meetings is that all parties have significant “incentive” (as Halsted put it), [7] and by working together the gaps between the theatres, the laboratory and the chemotherapy centre can be closed.

The radical mastectomy is now famous for its brutality. [12] Despite its poor reputation today, by bringing it into existence Halsted caused many women’s lives to be saved. We should respect those who have gone before us and learn from their work, whilst at the same time be willing to question and improve upon it. We need to guard ourselves from repeating mindlessly that which we have been taught, without seeking to develop it. Much has changed since Halsted boldly stated, “Tumours should never be harpooned, nor should pieces ever be excised from malignant tumors for diagnostic purposes.” [7] This may seem strange considering how we now utilise biopsies, although in years to come the flaws in our own thoughts and practices will be exposed.

Halsted was innovative, bringing discoveries to his time, and he will always hold an important role in surgical history. The French philosopher Gaston Bachelard displayed wisdom in saying “the characteristic of scientific progress is our knowing that we did not know”. It should be added that scientific progress comes through our knowing there is much we still do not know, and it is up to us to seek the answers.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

R Young: rebeccayoung07@gmail.com

References

[1] Cancer Australia. Report to the nation – breast cancer 2012. Surry Hills, New South Wales: Cancer Australia; 2012.

[2] Penninton D. Breast reconstruction after mastectomy: current state of the art [Review]. ANZ J Surg. 2005;75(6):454-8.

[3] Rankin J. William Stewart Halsted: a lecture by Dr Peter D. Olch. Ann Surg. 2006;243(3): 418-25.

[4] Roberts C. H.L Mencken and the four doctors: Osler, Halsted, Welch, and Kelly. Proc Bayl Univ Med Cent. 2010;23(4):377-88.

[5] Lathan S. Dr Halsted at Hopkins and at High Hampton. Proc Bayl Univ Med Cent. 2010;23(1):33-7.

[6] Halsted W. The results of operations for the care of cancer of the breast performed at the Johns Hopkins hospital from June, 1889, to January, 1894. Ann Surg. 1894;20(5):497-555.

[7] Halsted W. I. A clinical and histological study of certain adenocarcinomata of the breast: and a brief consideration of the supraclavicular operation and of the results of operations for cancer of the breast from 1889 to 1898 at the Johns Hopkins Hospital. Ann Surg. 1898;28(5):557-76.

[8] Veronesi M, Cascinelli N, Mariani L, Greco M, Saccozzi R, Lunini A et al. Twenty-year follow-up of a randomized study comparing breast-conserving surgery with radical mastectomy for early breast cancer. N Engl J Med. 2002;347:1227-32.

[9] Feigenberg Z, Zer M, Dintsman M. Comparison of postoperative complications following radical and modified radical mastectomy. World J Surg. 1977; 1(2): 207-10.

[10] Uroskie T, Colen L. History of breast reconstruction. Semin Plast Surg. 2004;18(2):65-9.

[11] Association of Breast Surgery at BASO BAPRAS and the Training Interface Group in Breast Surgery. Oncoplastic breast surgery – a guide to good practice. EJSO. 2007;33:S1-23.

[12] Bland C. The Halsted mastectomy: present illness and past history. West J Med. 1981;134(6):549-55.

[13] Veronesi U. Rationale and indications for limited surgery in breast cancer: current data. 1987;11(4):493-8.

[14] Fisher B, Jeong J, Anderson S, Bryant J, Fisher E, Wolmar N. Twenty-five-year follw-up of a randomized trial comparing radical mastectomy, total mastectomy, and total mastectomy followed by irradiation. N Engl J Med. 2002;346:567-75.

[15] Tanis P, Nieweg O, Olmos R, Rutgers E, Kroon B. History of sentinel node and validation of the technique. Breast Cancer Res. 2001;3(2):109-12.

[16] Giuliano A, Kirgan D, Guenther J, Morton D. Lymphatic mapping and sentinel lymphadenectomy for breast cancer. Ann Surg. 1994;220:391-8.

[17] Taylor M, Perez C, Halverson K, Kuske R, Philpott G, Garcia D et al. Factors influencing cosmetic results after conservation therapy for breast cancer. Int J Radiat Oncol Biol Phys. 1995;31(4):753-64.

[18] Rose M, Olivotto I, Cady B, et al. Conservative surgery and radiation therapy for early breast cancer: long-term cosmetic results. Arch Surg. 1989;124(2):153-7.

[19] Clough K, Lewis J, Couturand B, Fitoussi A, Nos C, Falcou M. Oncoplastic techniques allow extensive resections for breast-conserving therapy of breast carcinomas. Ann Surg. 2003;237(1):26-34.

[20] Clough K, Kaufman G, Nos C, Buccimazza I, Sarfati I. Improving breast cancer surgery: a classification and quadrant per quadrant atlas for oncoplastic surgery. Ann Surg. 2010;17(5):1375-91.

[21] Suarez J, Arthur D, Woodward W, Kuerer H. Breast preservation in patients with local recurrence after breast-conserving therapy. Curr Breast Cancer Rep. 2011;3(2):88-96.

[22] Rozen W, Ashton M, Taylor G. Defining the role for autologous breast reconstruction after mastectomy: social and oncologic implications. Clin Breast Cancer. 2008;8(2):134-42.

[23] Czerny V. Plastic replacement of the breast with a lipoma. Chir Kong Verhandl. 1895;2:216.

[24] Tanzini I. Spora il mio nuova processo di amputazione della mammella. Riforma Medica. 1906;22:757.

[25] Teimourian B, Adham M. Louis Ombredanne and the origin of muscle flap use for immediate breast mount reconstruction. Plast Recontr Surg. 1983;72:907-10.

[26] Cronin T, Gerow F. Augmentation mammoplasty: a new “natural feel” prosthesis. Transections of the third international congress of plastic surgery, Amsterdam. Excerpta Medica. 1964;66:41-9.

[27] Snyderman R, Guthrie R. Reconstruction of the female breast following radical mastectomy. Plast Reconstr Surg. 1971;47:565-7.

[28] Radovan C. Breast reconstruction after mastectomy using the temporary expander. Plast Reconstr Surg. 1982:69:195-208.

[29] Lanitis S, Tekkis P, Sgourakis G, Dimopoulos N, Al Mufti R, Hadjiminas D. Comparison of skin-sparing mastectomy versus non-skin-sparing mastectomy for breast cancer: a meta-analysis of observational studies. Ann Surg. 2010;251(4):632-9.

[30] Becker H. Breast reconstruction using an inflatable breast implant with detachable reservoir. Plast Reconst Surg. 1984;73:678-83.

[31] Sotiriou C, Pusztai L. Gene-expression signatures in breast cancer. N Engl J Med. 2009;360:790-800.

[32] Agarwal G, Ramakant P, Forgach E, Rendón J, Chaparro J, Basurto C et al. Breast cancer care in developing countries. World J Surg. 2009;33(10):2069-76.

[33] Saini K, Taylor C, Ramirez A, Palmieri C, Gunnarsson U, Schmoll H et al. Role of the multidisciplinary team in breast cancer management: results from a large international survey involving 39 countries. Ann Onc. 2012;23:853-9.

 

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

The role of Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services in Indigenous health

“Our right to take back responsibility.” Noel Pearson, 2000 [1]

This emotive aphorism by Pearson embodies the struggle of Australia’s Indigenous people to gain control of their destiny, which for generations has been wrested from them into the power of governments. Although his statement was primarily directed toward welfare, the same right of responsibility can be applied to health, perhaps the gravest challenge facing the Aboriginal population. As Pearson alluded to, the only way to solve the health crisis is by enabling local communities to take charge of their own affairs. This principle of self-determination has led to the creation of Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services (ACCHS), which has allowed over 150 Aboriginal communities throughout Australia control over their healthcare. [2] This article describes the founding principles behind community controlled health centres in Aboriginal communities through considering several different ACCHS and the unique challenges they face.

The fundamental concept behind each ACCHS – whether metropolitan, rural or remote – is the establishment of a primary healthcare facility that is both built and run by the local Aboriginal people “to deliver holistic, comprehensive, and culturally appropriate health care to the community which controls it.” [2] This is based upon the principle of self-determination and grants local people the power to achieve their own goals. From the beginning ACCHS were always intended to be more than exclusively a healthcare centre and each ACCHS has four key roles: the provision of primary clinical care, community support, special needs programmes, and advocacy.

ACCHS endeavour to provide primary healthcare as enshrined by the World Health Organization in the 1978 Declaration of Alma-Ata. This landmark international conference defined primary healthcare as:

“essential health care based on practical, scientifically sound and socially acceptable methods and technology made universally accessible to individuals and families in the community through their full participation and at a cost that the community and the country can afford to maintain… in the spirit of self-determination.” [3]

Although conceived subsequent to the advent of the community controlled healthcare movement in Australia, this definition echoes many of the underlying principles upon which ACCHS were founded, including the most important aspect – local control. Indeed, it is widely accepted throughout the literature that the community itself must identify its needs and problems so an effective and appropriate course of action can be undertaken. [4-7]

This principle is espoused in the National Aboriginal Health Strategy’s frequently quoted statement that “Aboriginal health is not just the physical well-being of an individual but the social, emotional and cultural well-being of the whole community in which each individual is able to achieve their full potential thereby bringing about the total well-being of their community.” [8] The notion of ‘community’ is an essential component of the Indigenous view of the self and therefore strongly related to health and well-being. Accordingly, ACCHS have a holistic view of healthcare, recognising that Indigenous healthcare needs to be multi-faceted and focus on cultural complexities that may not be appreciated by mainstream health services. As each Aboriginal community across the country has a distinct culture and language, [9] local control is paramount.

The concept of community control is not new. It can be traced back to early nineteenth-century America, where such services were used with success for improving the health of the poor and recent migrants. [4] The first ACCHS was established in the inner city Sydney suburb of Redfern in 1971. [10] Known as the Aboriginal Medical Service (AMS), it pioneered the concept of community controlled healthcare in Australia and, from modest beginnings, has now expanded into a major, versatile healthcare facility that provides free medical, dental, psychological, antenatal and drug and alcohol services to the large Aboriginal community in Sydney. Redfern’s AMS overcame struggles against an initially distrustful and paternalistic government through the dedication of visionary Indigenous leaders and support of benevolent non-Indigenous Australians. [10,11]

Specialised Indigenous policies are essential, as it is impossible to apply the same approach that is used in health services for non-Indigenous patients. Many Indigenous people are uncomfortable with seeking medical help at hospitals or general practices and therefore are reluctant to obtain essential care. [12] In addition, access to healthcare is often extremely difficult due to either geographical isolation or lack of transportation. Many Indigenous people live below the poverty line, so the services provided by practices that do not bulk bill are unattainable. Mainstream services struggle to provide appropriate healthcare to Aboriginal patients due to significant cultural and language disparities; [5,13] the establishment of ACCHS attempts to overcome such challenges.

For example, the Inala Indigenous Health Service in south-west Brisbane performed extensive market research to determine the factors keeping Aboriginal patients from utilising the mainstream health service. The results showed that several simple measures were highly effective in engaging the local community, such as employing an Indigenous receptionist and making the waiting room more culturally appropriate through local art or broadcasting an Aboriginal radio station. [12] In the five years following implementation of these strategies, the number of Indigenous patients at Inala ballooned from 12 to 899, and an average of four consultations per patient per year was attained, compared to the national Indigenous average of fewer than two. [14] A follow-up survey attributed patient satisfaction to the presence of Indigenous staff and a focus on Indigenous health. [12]

Nevertheless, the consequence of  longstanding obstacles to Indigenous access to mainstream healthcare is manifest in the stark inequity between the health outcomes of Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. The most recent data from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) shows that the discrepancy in life expectancy between Aboriginal Australians and their non-Indigenous counterparts remains unacceptably high, at 11.5 years for males and 9.7 for females. [15] Moreover, studies demonstrate that Aboriginal people have significantly worse outcomes in key health indicators, including infant mortality, diabetes, heart disease, infectious disease and mental illness. [5,12,13,16] Such disparities indicate that a novel, tailored approach to Indigenous health is required.

Cultural understanding is essential, as demonstrated by the example of the Anyinginyi Health Aboriginal Corporation in the Northern Territory. Anyinginyi serves the twelve remote Aboriginal communities within a 100km radius of Tennant Creek and its name comes from the local Warumungu language, meaning ‘belonging to us’ [17] emphasising the community’s control of, and pride in, this service. Anyinginyi has always strived to be more than just a health service and has evolved to deliver many other community programmes. This is embodied by Anyinginyi’s insistence on ‘culturally appropriate’ healthcare for Aboriginal people. In addition to medical advice, the local Aboriginal community is offered support through various programmes that range from employment services to cultural and spiritual activities promoting Indigenous language and culture. One such social service is the ‘Piliyintinji-Ki Stronger Families’ initiative, which assists community members through access to support services relating to issues such as family violence and the Stolen Generations. [17] Indeed, ACCHS such as Anyinginyi have the additional benefit of providing employment opportunities for community members, as the vast majority of the employees are Indigenous. All new staff members participate in a Cross Cultural Workshop, as one of Anyinginyi’s goals is to ensure that the local Aboriginal cultures are respected and continue to thrive.

The other important arm of healthcare in ACCHS relates to population health, with initiatives ranging from education campaigns to immunisations and screening for diseases. [2] One of the first large-scale community health promotion campaigns run specifically for Aboriginal people was conducted by the Redfern AMS between 1983-1984 to encourage breast-feeding among the local Koori mothers. [11] It achieved such stunning success that it set a precedent for all future ACCHS to continue in the important area of preventative medicine, with similar campaigns for sexual health and safe alcohol consumption having been undertaken subsequently.

Moreover, each ACCHS runs special services that are dictated by local needs and priorities. In some instances, there is a specific health problem that needs to be addressed, such as poor nutrition or substance abuse. Other programmes are directed at specific groups, such as young mothers or the elderly. The flexibility of these special services allows each ACCHS to identify and address the most significant problems within its area – problems that can only be identified by the community itself. For example, the Danila Dilba Health Service in Darwin runs a programme called ‘Dare to Dream’ that provides support and counselling for young Indigenous people suffering from mental illness. [18] It is an early intervention programme that intends to identify and support adolescents exhibiting early signs of both behavioural and mental health problems. To this end, school visits are undertaken to promote awareness of mental health issues to students and staff, as well as the services that Danila Dilba has to offer. A ‘chillout’ centre has been set up in Darwin as a safe place for young people to come and allows the community workers to refer those who present to appropriate counselling services. As such, Danila Dilba is empowered to proactively address an important local issue in the most culturally-appropriate way.

ACCHS are also active in the area of advocacy. This involves providing a voice for the community so that their needs can be expressed. Although each ACCHS operates autonomously, they form a national network with their collective interests represented both on a state/territory level and also nationally. Each of the eight states and territories has a peak representative body that acts on behalf of all ACCHS within that jurisdiction. [2] Examples of these organisations include the Aboriginal Health & Medical Research Council of New South Wales and the Aboriginal Medical Services Alliance Northern Territory. At the national level the umbrella body overseeing all the different stakeholders across the country is the National Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisation (NACCHO). [2] Individual ACCHS, as well as NACCHO and the affiliated state or territory peak bodies, lobby all levels of government for increased funding and greater recognition of the issues facing Aboriginal communities. The collective weight of NACCHO as a national advocate allows each community’s needs to be heard.

Inevitably, the scope of the services each ACCHS can provide is restricted by funding, most of which comes from the Commonwealth or State and Territory Governments. [2] More money continues to be spent per capita on mainstream health services than on Aboriginal health, despite the great dichotomy in health outcomes. Indeed, the 2012 Indigenous Expenditure Report published figures showing that for every dollar spent on healthcare subsidies for non-Indigenous health, only $0.66 is spent on Aboriginal health. [19] This statistic covers all the key areas of healthcare expenditure, such as Medicare rebates, the pharmaceutical benefits scheme (PBS) and private health insurance rebates. Therefore, Indigenous patients are not receiving the same level of health service delivery, including clinical consultations and treatment, compared to their non-Indigenous counterparts. However, it is propitious to note that the funding bodies have recognised the value of the public health efforts of ACCHS, as the spending in this area is a $4.89 to $1.00 ratio in favour of Indigenous health. [19] Nevertheless, the priority needs to be placed on ensuring that sufficient funding exists to allow Indigenous patients to access health care subsidies as required.

In addition to inadequate funding, another major obstacle that ACCHS face is the difficulty in attracting and retaining doctors and allied health professionals. According to the AIHW’s most recent report, only 63% of Indigenous health services currently employ a doctor. [20] Consequently, a significant increase in the number of general practitioners working with Indigenous patients is required simply to provide adequate services. There is additionally a severe lack of Aboriginal medical students and general practitioners, which limits the opportunities for Indigenous professionals to provide culturally-appropriate care to their own communities. Census data from 2006 found that there were 106 Indigenous doctors nationally, accounting for only 0.19% of all medical practitioners. [21] These shortages are compounded further for ACCHS in rural and remote areas. By 2011, further data from Medical Deans demonstrated that the numbers had increased to 153 Indigenous medical practitioners nationally, along with 218 enrolled Indigenous medical students. Although promising, these numbers remain grossly inadequate to fulfil workforce demand. [22]

Services become stretched due to perpetual resource inadequacies. Understandably, the remoteness of some communities makes service delivery challenging, yet even major metropolitan areas with large Indigenous populations can struggle to adequately provide for those in their catchment area. Under-resourcing places major constraints on service delivery and different ACCHS throughout the country exhibit significant variation in the level of services offered. Some are large, employ several doctors and provide a wide range of services; others are much smaller and operate without doctors. [20] These rely on Aboriginal health workers and nurses to provide the bulk of primary healthcare.

As such, the success of the ACCHS concept would not have been possible without the contribution of Aboriginal health workers. The role of Aboriginal health workers, who are often sourced from the local community, is to provide the primary healthcare that ACCHS offer. [23] This involves assessing patients and then coordinating or providing the medical attention required. Health workers are able to treat certain conditions with the help of standard treatment guidelines and provide a selection of important medications to patients. Importantly, Aboriginal health workers have a liaison role between medical professionals and Aboriginal patients. They are often required to act as an interpreter between the patient and health professional, thus providing an intermediary for cross-cultural interactions, and therefore improving the quality of healthcare provided to the local community.

Due to the often quite remote locations of ACCHS and the scarcity of doctors and nurses, Aboriginal health workers perform many clinical tasks that would be provided by a medical professional in mainstream health services. Aboriginal health workers bear much greater responsibility than their colleagues in the public sector and often learn a wide range of procedural skills including how to perform standard health checks, vaccinations and venepuncture. [23] Indeed, some choose to specialise in a specific area (such as diabetes, pregnancy or infant care) thus gaining additional skills and responsibilities. Still others take on managerial responsibilities. This is in contrast to the public sector, where health workers are often fixed to one routine area or even to non-clinical work such as transportation or social assistance. [23] Without Aboriginal health workers performing these additional tasks, ACCHS would not be able to provide a sufficient level of service for the community. For this reason, Aboriginal health workers are rightly considered the backbone of community controlled health services.

As one example, the Pika Wiya Health Service in the South Australian town of Port Augusta runs two outreach clinics for communities in Copely and Nepabunna. Due to the shortage of doctors, these clinics are staffed entirely by Aboriginal health workers. Their invaluable contribution is evident, with 695 clinical encounters performed by health workers during 2008, [24] ensuring that the absence of doctors did not deny the local people the chance to receive healthcare. Whilst the major health issues faced by Indigenous people are broadly similar between urban and remote communities, these problems are often compounded by the remoteness of the location. Although these are challenges that Copely and Nepabunna will continue to have to face, the empowerment of Aboriginal health workers has helped redefine the direction of Pika Wiya’s outreach health services.

Aboriginal health workers face many difficulties. Perhaps the most significant is that, until recently, there had been no national qualifications or recognition of the skills they developed. [23] The introduction of national registration for Aboriginal health workers (from July 1 2012) and the new qualification of Certificate IV in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Primary Health Care (Practice) have revolutionised the industry. [25] This has had the benefit of standardising the quality and safety of the Aboriginal health worker labour force. However, as the changes will increase the required length and standard of training, there is the potential for current or prospective health workers to be deterred by the prospect of undertaking study at a tertiary level, particularly if they have had limited previous education. Nevertheless, national registration is a positive step for recognising the important work done by Aboriginal health workers, and in providing them with the training to continue serving their communities.

In addition to doctors, nurses and health workers, medical students are also important stakeholders in Indigenous health. First, much has been done in recent years to increase the numbers of Indigenous medical students. For example, the University of Newcastle has been the first medical school to make a dedicated attempt at training Indigenous doctors and has produced approximately 60% of Australia’s Indigenous medical practitioners. [26] This achievement has been based on a “strong focus on community, equity and engagement by the medical profession.” [26] Encouraging community members to enter the profession can be an important way of addressing both the lack of doctors in Indigenous communities and paucity of doctors of Indigenous background. The benefits are broader than this, as Indigenous doctors provide strong role models for young Indigenous people and also have the opportunity to contribute with advocacy and leadership within Indigenous health.

Secondly, the medical student population as a whole is exposed to increasingly more Indigenous health as part of the core curriculum at university following adoption of the updated Australian Medical Council accreditation standards from 2007. [27] Additionally, some students even have the opportunity to spend time in an ACCHS and experience first-hand how the system works. There has been some criticism of these ‘fly in, fly out’ medical electives, where students are sent to ACCHS for short periods and then leave. [28] Whilst this model may be beneficial for the student, it fails to engage the local community as they are unable to build meaningful or lasting relationships with the student.

Better models allow for a longer-term placement and immersion in the community. These include the John Flynn Placement Programme where some students are able to spend a fortnight annually in an ACCHS in the Northern Territory over a period of four years. [29] Another example is the Northern Territory Clinical School, which allows third-year medical students from Flinders University to spend a whole year of study in Darwin, providing the opportunity for increased contact with local Indigenous communities. [30] Initiatives such as these help to build a relationship with the community, and allows for increased acceptance of the medical student. Additionally, the student is able to make a more meaningful contribution to various client’s healthcare. Prolonged or longitudinal attachments have also been shown to increase the likelihood of students returning as a doctor. [31] Certainly, there is much scope for the contribution of medical students to be harnessed more effectively.

It is abundantly apparent that any solution to address the health inequalities of Aboriginal people will only be effective if it recognises that the local Aboriginal communities must control the process of healthcare delivery. This is the principle upon which ACCHS were founded and can be attributed to their many successes, as demonstrated through the examples of Redfern’s AMS, Inala, Anyinginyi, Danila Dilba and Pika Wiya. In spite of the challenges posed by inadequate funding, under-staffing and often remote locations, these organisations strive to uphold the ideals of self-determination and community control. It is hoped that wider adoption of these principles by national governing bodies together with improved financial support will enable Indigenous Australians control over their lives and destinies, leading to better health outcomes.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank the Australasian Faculty of Public Health Medicine for their generous support of this research through awarding the 2011 John Snow Scholarship for South Australia. Additionally, the author wishes to acknowledge the guidance of Dr Doug Shaw when preparing this work for presentation at the 2012 Population Health Congress.

Correspondence

M Weightman: michael.weightman@student.adelaide.edu.au

References

[1] Pearson N. Our right to take responsibility. Cairns, Queensland:  Noel Pearson and Associates; 2000.

[2] National Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisation. 2010-2011 Annual Report. Canberra, ACT: NACCHO; 2011.

[3] World Health Organisation. Declaration of Alma-Ata. Alma-Ata, USSR: WHO; 1978.

[4] Minkler M, Wallerstein N. Improving health through community organisation and community building: a health education perspective. In Minkler M, editor. Community organizing and community building for health. New Brunswick, USA: Rutgers University Press; 1998, 26-50.

[5] Stephens C, Nettleton C, Porter J, Willis R, Clark S. Indigenous peoples’ health – why are they behind everyone, everywhere? Lancet. 2005; 366(9479): 10-13.

[6] Horton R. Indigenous peoples: time to act now for equity and health. Lancet. 2006; 367(9524): 1705-1707.

[7] King M, Smith A, Gracey M. Indigenous health part 2: the underlying causes of the health gap. Lancet. 2009; 374(9683): 76-85.

[8] National Aboriginal Health Strategy Working Party. A national Aboriginal health strategy. Canberra, ACT: National Aboriginal Health Strategy Working Party; 1989.

[9] Burgess CP, Johnston FH, Berry HL, McDonnell J, Yibarbuk D, Gunabarra C, et al. Healthy country, healthy people: the relationship between Indigenous health status and ‘caring for country.’ Med J Aust. 2009; 190(10): 567-572.

[10] Marles E, Frame C, Royce M. The Aboriginal Medical Service Redfern: improving access to primary care for over 40 years. Aust Fam Physician. 2012; 41(6): 433-436.

[11] Foley G. Redfern Aboriginal Medical Service: 20 years on. Aborig Isl Health Work J. 1991; 15(4): 4-8.

[12] Hayman NE, White NE, Spurling GK. Improving Indigenous patients’ access to mainstream health services: the Inala experience. Med J Aust. 2009; 190 (10): 604-606.

[13] Zhao Y, Dempsey K. Causes of inequality in life expectancy between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in the Northern Territory, 1981-2000: a decomposition analysis. Med J Aust. 2006; 184(10): 490-494.

[14] Deeble J. Expenditure on health services for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander People. Canberra, ACT: Department of Health and Family Services; 1998.

[15] Australian Institute of Health and Welfare. The health and welfare of Australia’s Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people: an overview 2011. Canberra, ACT: Australian Institute of Health and Welfare; 2011.

[16] Anderson I, Crengle S, Kamaka ML, Chen T-H, Palafox N, Jackson-Pulver L. Indigenous health in Australia, New Zealand, and the Pacific. Lancet. 2006; 367(9524): 1775-1785.

[17] Anyinginyi Health Aboriginal Corporation. 10/11 Annual Report. Tennant Creek, NT: Anyinginyi Health Aboriginal Corporation; 2011.

[18] Danila Dilba Biluru Butji Binnilutlum Health Service Aboriginal Corporation. Annual Report 2010. Darwim, NT: Danila Dilba Biluru Butji Binnilutlum Health Service Aboriginal Corporation; 2010.

[19] Steering Committee for the Review of Government Service Provision. 2012 Indigenous expenditure report: overview. Canberra, ACT: Productivity Commission; 2012.

[20] Australian Institute of Health and Welfare. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health services report, 2010-11: OATSIH services reporting – key results. Canberra, ACT: Australian Institute of Health and Welfare; 2012.

[21] Australian Bureau of Statistics. Population distribution, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians, cat. no. 4705.0. Canberra, ACT: Australian Bureau of Statistics; 2007.

[22] Cavanagh J. Medical Deans – AIDA: national medical education review. Canberra, ACT: Medical Deans Australia and New Zealand, Australian Indigenous Doctors’ Association; 2012.

[23] Mitchell M, Hussey LM. The Aboriginal health worker. Med J Aust. 2006; 184(10): 529-530.

[24] Pika Wiya Health Service Inc. Annual Report for Year 2007-2008. Port Augusta, SA: Pika Wiya Health Service Inc; 2008.

[25] Health Workforce Australia. Growing our future: the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Health Worker project final report. Adelaide, South Australia: Health Workforce Australia; 2011.

[26] Lawson KA, Armstrong RM, Van Der Weyden MB. Training Indigenous doctors for Australia: shooting for goal. Med J Aust. 2007; 186(10): 547-550.

[27] Australian Medical Council. Assessment and accreditation of medical schools: standards and procedures. Part 2. Educational standards. Canberra, ACT: Australian Medical Council; 2006.

[28] Crump JA, Sugarman J. Ethical considerations for short-term experiences by trainees in global health. JAMA. 2008; 300(12): 1456-1458.

[29] Young L, Kent L, Walters L. The John Flynn Placement Program: evidence for repeated rural exposure for medical students. Aust J Rural Health. 2011; 19(3): 147–153.

[30] McDonnel Smedts A, Lowe MP. Efficiency of clinical training at the Northern Territory Clinical School: placement length and rate of return for internship. Med J Aust. 2008; 189(3): 166-168.

[31] Denz-Penhey H, Shannon S, Murdoch JC, Newbury J. Do benefits accrue from longer rotations for students in rural clinical schools? Rural Remote Health. 2005; 5(2): 414.

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

Physician Assistants in Australia: the solution to workforce woes?

This article reviews the potential for Physician Assistants (PAs) within Australia. An introduction to the PA role, training, and relevant history is included, as is motivation for considering implementation of the role within Australia. It specifically addresses the prospect of improving rural and Indigenous health services. The possible impact on other roles within Australia, including Nurse Practitioners and medical students, is also considered. Finally, it is concluded that larger trials are required to adequately assess the benefit of the profession to Australia.

Introduction to Physician Assistants

With the recent suspension of the Physician Assistant (PA) training programme at The University of Queensland, and reservations expressed by nursing and medical organisations, there is potential for ambiguity regarding the prospects of the profession in Australia. [1,2] Whilst the concept is relatively new to the country, it is well-established internationally, [3] and in the United States has mitigated certain deficits in health service provision. [4]

A PA is a licensed medical professional who operates within a set scope of practice under the authority of a supervising doctor. [5] Whilst they may complete tasks independently, the supervising doctor has final responsibility for the PA and the clinical care they provide. [4] The role is not designed to serve as an independent practitioner. [4] Thus, a PA’s scope of practice can vary significantly, depending on the health facility at which they are employed, the extent of further training undertaken, and the degree of clinical autonomy the supervising doctor is willing to allow. [4]

The concept of the PA was introduced in the 1960s in response to both a shortage and uneven geographic distribution of doctors within the United States. [4,6] The founder of the PA movement, Eugene Stead, initially intended an advanced nursing programme. However, the National League of Nursing rejected this proposal, prompting the utilisation of trained military medics as the pioneering class. [7] The first cohort of PAs graduated in 1967, [8] and since then a large number of tertiary institutions have commenced training programmes. [4]

Entry into training programmes is competitive, with at least two years of university study usually required as a pre-requisite. [4] Most candidates also have at least four years prior experience in a medically related field, having transitioned from allied health and nursing careers. [1,4]  PAs train for an average of twenty-five months in a course now typically designed as a Masters level programme, representing an abridged version of traditional tertiary medical education. [4] Similar to other medical professionals, PAs are required to undergo continuing professional education and meet recertification requirements. [8] In the United States, the recertification period is currently six years, although this will be transitioning to ten years from 2014. [9]

The role of PAs includes taking patient histories, performing clinical exams, diagnostics, patient education, basic procedural work such as suturing, and providing general assistance to doctors as required. [4] PAs may also complete more advanced tasks under the delegated authority of doctors, including endoscopy, critical care, and specialist outpatient clinics. [10-12] Importantly, evidence shows that in specific clinical situations PAs can provide a level of care comparable to doctors. [4]

The significance of the PA role to the United States health care system is clear, with over seventy thousand practising in 2010. The profession has expanded consistently since 1991, with graduates from over 150 accredited training facilities set to see in excess of ninety thousand PAs in the United States by 2014. Growth in the profession is predicted to continue, with numbers estimated to exceed 125 000 by 2025. [13]

Motivation for considering the role in Australia

The PA role has been discussed as a potential solution to problems facing the medical workforce in Australia and, although small in size, results of trials in Queensland and South Australia have been encouraging. [12,14] The 2008 Parliamentary Library report and 2011 Health Work Force Australia report have also recommended the profession be considered given the challenges facing medical care in Australia. [12,14] An ageing population, increased patient expectations and the burden of chronic disease all place considerable strain on a system already understaffed, whose employees are demanding more work-life balance than before. [15,16] The size of this problem is clear, with estimates that by 2025 over twenty percent of the total workforce in Australia would need to be employed in the health system to maintain services at their current level. [17] The response has been to increase medical graduate numbers and recruit doctors internationally, yet with demand set to exceed supply, PAs represent a possible solution to Australia’s expanding medical workforce requirements. [18] Arguments have also been made that PAs could decrease Australia’s reliance on International Medical Graduates (IMGs), which would be a move toward “self reliance” as recommend by the National Health Workforce Strategic Framework in 2004. [19,20]

Although the workforce shortage is a serious issue, perhaps a greater concern is the financial sustainability of the health care system. In 2009, approximately ten percent of Australia’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) was spent on health care. [19] This is expected to growth at a rate of 0.5% per year, meaning health expenditure will account for twenty percent of Australia’s GDP by 2020. [19] Therefore, in an effort to achieve sustainability, avenues to mitigate this rising financial burden must be explored.  This provides motivation to consider the PA role within Australia, especially given evidence demonstrating their potential cost-effectiveness. [18,21-23]

The 2011 Health Work Force Australia report indicated a number of possible roles for PAs in Australia, including providing services that have traditionally been the sole domain of doctors. [1] Whilst this may seem like a new paradigm, the concept of dispersing such knowledge and expertise amongst various members of the health workforce is not new to Australia. Such change can already be seen in the medical profession with the development of General Practitioner (GP) proceduralists who, particularly in rural areas, perform tasks previously only completed by specialists. [24] This dynamic practice has been essential to ensuring service viability in rural areas, including maintaining obstetric services. [24] Paramedics have also been shifting towards a more professional role, utilising expanded skills bases, and in some instances having admission rights to hospitals. [25,26] The Nurse Practitioner (NP) role has also expanded within Australia, and NPs now complete extended patient assessments, prescribe certain items independently, and collaborate with doctors where required. [27] Whilst there are some reservations about the expanding scope of practice for non-doctor roles, the success of such redistribution of tasks in Australia provides motivation to review the way in which medical care is provided. [28] However, to ensure quality of care and patient safety, this should continue forward with consultation from appropriate medical governing bodies. [27,29]

The potential role of Physician Assistants in rural Australia

Rural communities in Australia currently experience significant disadvantage in accessing health care, with staffing shortages being exacerbated by an uneven distribution of practitioners that favours metropolitan areas. [2] This issue is set to be compounded by an ageing rural workforce and resultant practitioner retirement. [1] To a large extent IMGs have helped minimise this effect, with over half of doctors working in areas classified as small rural to remote being trained internationally. [2] However, evidence suggests that IMGs bonded to work in rural Australia tend to be dissatisfied both personally and professionally, [30] demonstrating a clear need to find a sustainable rural health workforce.   This provides a perfect niche to utilise PAs, with some research in the United States showing that as a profession PAs may be more willing than doctors to move to areas of need, including rural locations. [18] Such use of PAs to mitigate rural health workforce shortages is supported by both the Australian College of Rural and Remote Medicine and the National Rural Health Alliance. [18]

In an Australian rural pilot trial in Cooktown, PAs significantly reduced the requirement for doctor overtime despite increased caseload. This shows potential to reduce doctor fatigue and consequently the rural attrition rate, which is essential to ensure continued viability of rural health services. [14] The potential benefit of PAs was further seen in a Mt. Isa trial, which coincided with an H1N1 outbreak. During this time period, PAs conducted a fast-tracked clinic to decrease the burden on emergency physicians. [14] The benefit of their input continued over the following months, with Emergency Department presentations, particularly in the lower triage categories, decreasing following initiation of a PA-led primary care clinic. [14]

Furthermore, PAs have the potential to improve Indigenous health services. In the Queensland pilot, PAs at Wujal Wujal, Karumba and Normanton at times worked under remote delegation, improving access of the local Indigenous community to health professionals. [2] If expanded, this could yield an important step forward in health equity by ensuring that medical professionals are on-site to deliver the services these areas require. However, patient feedback regarding this service was difficult to obtain, with very few Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander (ATSI) patients completing the feedback survey. [2] Scope of practice for PAs at one trial site was also restricted for ATSI children, requiring approval from a supervising physician before initiation of any therapy for patients below a pre-determined age. This was prophylactic rather than in response to any actual breach of care, on the basis that presentations of children in this group often do not reflect the true breadth of underlying illness. [2] It should, however, be remembered that PAs participating in the trial were trained internationally. If PAs were trained locally in programmes designed to meet the health needs of Australian populations, such measures are unlikely to be necessary.

The Queensland PA trials yielded no safety or treatment concerns over twelve months. However, due to their size, limited analysis, and issues regarding scope of practice, the benefit of the role to the local health system was unable to be completely established. Therefore, given the potential utility, further study should be completed to demonstrate if PAs can adequately address the rural and Indigenous workforce shortage. For these trials to adequately assess the role in rural Australia, implementation of a proper support network and a change in legislation, particularly surrounding prescribing rights, would be required. [14,31]

Further potential roles of Physician Assistants in Australia

PAs could also increase the capacity of procedural units by taking responsibility for low-risk routine tasks such as endoscopy, running specialised outpatient clinics, and providing early assessment of new cases in emergency departments, allowing doctors to focus on more complex tasks. [2,10,18] The same is true of general practice, where PAs have been shown capable of managing the majority of minor cases to a similar level of care as GPs. [32] In a recent United Kingdom-based study, PAs were shown to expand the capacity of trial sites to provide primary care to their local population. [32] Specific tasks performed by PAs in this trial included follow up of laboratory results, basic procedural work, completing PAP smears, and patient education. One major difficulty encountered was the inability to prescribe under current legislation, which has also been reflected in Australian trials. [32]

Concerns regarding impact on other roles in the Australian health care system

Concerns have been voiced that PAs may encroach on the role currently held by Nurse Practitioners (NPs) including the Rural and Isolated Practice Registered Nurse role, which was specifically designed to meet rural needs. [2,31] Counter-arguments have been made that the NP role is protocol-driven and based on a nursing model of care, whilst the PA role is based on the medical model with a greater emphasis on diagnostics; therefore, unique roles for both professions could be determined. [2] Despite this, the overlap between the two roles is significant. [5,14,38] As such, further trials of PAs must examine the impact on the NP profession, which is now well-developed within Australia. [2]

In terms of quality of care, numerous studies have shown that in certain areas of clinical practice, NPs, PAs and doctors achieve similar clinical outcomes and a similar degree of patient satisfaction. [4,
34-38] Therefore, given the proven NP role, unless evidence is produced demonstrating enhanced quality of care or ability to undertake tasks not performed by NPs, the cost of implementing this profession in Australia’s health care system cannot be justified. Even if such novel roles or quality addition could be proven, the cost of introducing and sustaining PAs including physician supervision demands careful cost-benefit analysis. [31] This is particularly important in the current era of unsustainable medical expenditure. Furthermore, as Australia continues to face a so-called “tsunami” of medical students, the requirement for further low- to mid-level clinical roles, particularly those not yet well-established, must be seriously reviewed.

The effect on physician and medical student training must also be determined, particularly given the increased numbers of medical graduates. The National Health Workforce Taskforce report illustrated the extent of this problem, estimating that in comparison to 2005, in 2013 over 600 000 more medical placement days per annum will be required to train undergraduates. [2] Therefore, as the role of PAs is examined, it is essential to ensure junior doctor and medical student training is not impaired. There are as-yet unsubstantiated claims that PAs may allow more time for senior clinicians to teach. [2,14] However, more research and consideration into this as it applies to the Australian context is warranted. [2] This is particularly important as, despite large increases in the numbers of medical graduates, a significant proportion of senior consultants are approaching retirement age. [39] This may lead to diminished clinical exposure for medical students, a situation which could be further exacerbated should consultants also be tasked with fulfilling PA teaching and ongoing supervision requirements. This is an issue already considered in the Queensland pilot trials, where PA scope of practice for certain procedural skills was limited to ensure junior doctors gained the necessary experience. [2]

Conclusion

Trials in Australia regarding PAs have been limited and utilised internationally-trained recruits with proven clinical acumen. [2,12,14] Therefore, despite encouraging results, larger trials are required to determine their potential to benefit the Australian health care system. Even if the conclusion was drawn that the implementation of PAs was the best way to meet the requirements of the Australian health care system, there are still multiple barriers that would need to be addressed. These include setting up appropriate prescribing rights under the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme, without which their effectiveness would be severely limited. [12] The potential for roles in rural and remote communities and procedural work seems encouraging. [2,17] However, concerns regarding the impact on the proven NP role and medical student training must be addressed in further trials before conclusions can be drawn on the wider impact of implementation in Australia. [2,31]

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Acknowledgements

Natasha Duncan: for proofreading and providing constructive feedback.

Correspondence

B Powell: benjamin.powell@uqconnect.edu.au

References

[1] Miller M, Siggins I, Thomson N, Fowler G, Bradshaw S. The potential role of Physician Assistants in the Australian context, Volume 1: Final Report. Adelaide: Health Workforce Australia; 2011 Nov. 39 p. Available from: http://www.hwa.gov.au/sites/uploads/hwa-physician-assistant-report-20120816.pdf.

[2] Urbis. Evaluation of the Queensland Physician’s Assistant Pilot – Final Report. Queensland: Urbis Pty Ltd; 2010 Aug. 61 p. Report No.: 17.

[3] Hooker RS, Hogan K, Leeker E. The globalization of the physician assistant profession. J Physician Assist Educ. 2007; 18(3): 76–85.

[4] Mittman DE, Cawley JF, Fenn WH. Physician assistants in the United States. Br Med J. 2002; 325: 485–7.

[5] Everett CM, Schumacher JR, Wright A, Smith MA. Physician assistants and nurse practitioners as a usual source of care. J Rural Health. 2009; 25(4): 407–14.

[6] Frossard LA, Liebich G, Hooker RS, Brooks PM, Robinson L. Introducing physician assistants into new roles: international experiences. Med J Aust. 2008; 188(4): 199–201.

[7] Jolly R. Health workforce: a case for physician assistants? Canberra: Parliamentary Library; 2008 Mar. 48 p.

[8] Hutchinson L, Marks T, Pittilo M. The physician assistant: would the US model meet the needs of the NHS? Br Med J. 2001; 323(7323): 1244–7.

[9] New certification process review [Internet]. National Commission on Certification of Physician Assistants; 2012 [cited 2013 Jan 19]. Available from: http://www.nccpa.net/CertMain.aspx.

[10] Newman HH, Smit DV, Keogh MJ, Stripp AM, Cameron PA. Emergency and acute medical admissions: insights from US and UK visits by a Melbourne tertiary health service. Med J Aust. 2012; 196(2): 101–3.

[11] Doan Q, Sabhaney V, Kissoon N, Sheps S, Singer J. A systematic review: The role and impact of the physician assistant in the emergency department. Emerg Med Australas. 2011; 23(1): 7-15.

[12] Ho B, Maddern G. Physician assistants: employing a new health provider in the South Australian health system. Med J Aust. 2011; 194 (5): 2568.

[13] Hooker RS, Cawley JF, Everett CM. Predictive modeling the physician assistant supply: 2010–2025. Public Health Rep. 2011; 126: 708-16.

[14] Kurti L, Rudland S, Wilkinson R, DeWittB D, Zhang C. Physician’s assistants: a workforce solution for Australia? Aust J Prim Health. 2011; 17: 23–8.

[15] Brooks P, Ellis N. Health workforce innovation conference. Med J Aust. 2006; 184(3): 105-6.

[16] Hooker R. The future of the physician assistant movement. Med J Aust. 2010; 192(3): 116.

[17] Brooks PM, Robinson L, Ellis N. Options for expanding the health workforce. Aust Health Rev. 2008; 31(1): 156-60.

[18] Hooker R, O’Connor T. Extending rural and remote medicine with a new type of health worker: Physician assistants. Aust. J. Rural Health. 2007; 15: 346–51.

[19] Gorman DF, Brooks PM. On solutions to the shortage of doctors in Australia and New Zealand. Med J Aust. 2009; 190(3): 152-6.

[20] Carver P. Self Sufficiency and International Medical Graduates – Australia. Victoria: National Health Workforce Taskforce; 2008 Sep. 23 p.

[21] Ho P, Pesicka D, Schafer A, Maddren G. Physician assistants: trialling a new surgical health professional in Australia. ANZ J Surg. 2010; 80(6): 430-7.

[22] Hooker RS. Physician assistants and nurse practitioners: the United States experience. Med J Aust. 2006; 185(1): 4-7.

[23] Laurant B, Harmsen M, Wollersheim H, Grol R, Faber M, Sibbald B. The impact of non physician clinicians : Do they improve the quality and cost-effectiveness of health care services? Med Care Res Rev. 2009; 66: 36S-88S.

[24] Robinson M, Slaney GM, Jones GI, Robinson JB. GP proceduralists: ‘the hidden heart’ of rural and regional health in Australia. Rural Remote Health. 2010; 10: 1402.

[25] Blacker N, Pearson L, Walker T. Redesigning paramedic models of care to meet rural and remote community needs. Paper presented at: The 10th National Rural Health Conference; 2009 May 17-20; Cairns, Australia.

[26] O’Meara PF, Tourle V, Stirling C, Walker J, Pedler D. Extending the paramedic role in rural Australia: a story of flexibility and innovation. Rural Remote Health. 2012; 12: 1978.

[27] Carryer J, Gardner G, Dunn S, Gardner A. The core role of the nurse practitioner: practice, professionalism and clinical leadership. J Clin Nurs. 2006; 16: 1818-25.

[28] Lawson K, Gregory A, Van Der Weyden M. The medical colleges in Australia: besieged but bearing up. Med J Aust. 2005; 183(11/12): 646-51.

[29] Kidd MR, Watts IT, Mitchell CD, Hudson LG, Wenck BC, Cole NJ. Principles for supporting task substitution in Australian general practice. Med J Aust. 2006; 185(1): 20-22.

[30] McGrail MR, Humphreys JS, Joyce CM, Scott A. International medical graduates mandated to practice in rural Australia are highly unsatisfied: results from a national survey of doctors. Health Policy. 201; 108(2-3): 133-9.

[31] Bosley S, Dale J. Healthcare assistants in general practice: practical and conceptual issues of skill-mix change. Br J Gen Pract. 2008; 58(547):120-4.

[32] Parle JV, Ross NM, Doe WF. The medical care practitioner: developing a physician assistant equivalent for the United Kingdom. Med J Aust. 2006; 185(1): 13-7.

[33] Tuaoi L, Cashin A, Hutchinson M, Graham I. Nurse Practitioner preparation: is it time to move beyond masters level entry in Australia? Nurse Educ Today. 2011; 31(8): 738-42.

[34] Mundinger MO, Kane RL, Lenz ER, Totten AM, Tsai W, Cleary PD, Friedwald WT, Siu AL, Shelanski ML. Primary outcomes in patients treated by nurse practitioners or physicians. J Am Med Assoc. 2000; 283(1): 59-68.

[35] Lenz ER, Mundinger MO, Kane RL, Hopkins SC, Lin SX. Primary care outcomes in patients treated by nurse practitioners or physicians: two-year follow-up. Med Care Res Rev. 2004; 61(3): 332-51.

[36] Roy CL, Liang CL, Lund M, Boyd C, Katz JT, McKean S, Schnipper JL. Implementation of a physician assistant/hospitalist service in an academic medical center: Impact on efficiency and patient outcomes. J Hosp Med. 2008; 3(5): 361-8.

[37] Lesko M, Young M, Higham R. Managing inflammatory arthritides: Role of the nurse practitioner and physician assistant. J Am Acad Nurse Pract. 2010; 22(7): 382-92.

[38] Hooker RS, Everett CM. The contributions of physician assistants in primary care systems. Health Soc Care Community. 2012; 20(1): 20-31.

[39] Schofield DJ, Fletcher SL, Callander EJ. Ageing medical workforce in Australia – where will the medical educators come from? Hum Resour Health. 2009; 7: 82.

 

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

Dealing with futile treatment: A medical student’s perspective

A 76 year old man with metastatic liver cancer lies feebly in his hospital bed surrounded by family. He’s in cardiac and respiratory failure. Attached to him are multiple lines, cannulas and monitors. There are more machines present than people. Despite this, his breathing is laboured, he’s gaunt, and he is clearly suffering. In a rare moment of lucidity, he gestures for his son to come closer and whispers: “No more.” An obviously grief stricken man turns to the rest of the family, gestures, and heads outside to make one of the most difficult decisions he will ever make.

Confused and anxious, a fifteen year old boy sits and listens to the pros and cons of stopping his grandfather’s treatment being discussed by the doctors and the family. Questions keep popping up in his head “Why is he giving up? How could they consider withdrawing treatment, the same treatment that was obviously keeping this man alive? How could anyone live with that decision?”

How do I know this? Because I was that fifteen year old boy.

It is, perhaps, ironic that modern advances in medicine have made it feasible to sustain life and sometimes suffering, for an indefinite period. [1] The dramatic improvement in technology for life preservation has created ambiguity and has dehumanised the dying process. The result of this is that very difficult legal and moral decisions must now be made about transitions from aggressive treatment to palliative care. [2] At times, the existence of this technology creates a moral obligation to use it, especially when societal belief is that to treat is to care. [3]

It was all too much back then for a teenage boy, but now ten years down the line, is it still too much for a medical student? After all, what can we as mere fledgling trainees do to help ease those heavy burdens? Reflecting on these experiences helps address the powerlessness we experience in these morally and ethically challenging cases and serves as a reminder to everyone that even as mere ‘students’, we are capable of playing a vital therapeutic role in the care of patients whose treatments have been deemed futile.

Defining futility

Looking back at that period of time now, it is difficult to justify the last few weeks of futile treatment that my grandfather received.

How does one decide when treatment is futile? Some have defined it quantitatively as treatments that have less than a 10% chance of success, [4] while others have tried to express it qualitatively as “treatment which provides no chance of meaningful prolongation of survival or may only briefly delay the inevitable death of the patient.” [5] The majority of physicians will deem this poor outcome unsatisfactory and thus the treatment futile; however, most families will not. [6] Whatever the definition, futile treatment is not a black and white concept, but must be considered as a complex composite of quality of life issues that need to be discussed either with the patient early in their diagnosis, or with their legal next of kin. [5]

Ethical decisions

This choice is difficult enough for clinicians with years of health-care experience, let alone medically untrained families under stress, grieving for the imminent loss of a loved one.

How are these decisions made? There are no protocols or parameters set out which suggest treatment should be withdrawn. While students are often taught to use the four principles of bioethics: beneficience, non-maleficience, autonomy and justice to guide them through ethically challenging cases, [7] the general public often places a special emphasis on beneficence, and thus consider continuing treatment as the only option. This was demonstrated in a questionnaire study by Rydvall and Lynoe (2008), asking both physicians and the general public when they believed treatments should be withdrawn from terminally ill patients. While the majority of physicians chose to withdraw treatment early on to prevent further suffering, the majority of the general public chose to continue aggressive treatment until the very end, stating that the first task of health care professionals is to save lives. [8]

This highlights the higher expectations that the general public may have of what the health care system should achieve, [8] which can lead to points of contention and miscommunication when it comes to making critical care decisions. The role of the medical student in these cases is often as a moderator; to listen, discuss and bridge the gap of communication between the two understandably apprehensive parties.

The therapeutic use of self

The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, none of the doctors paid me any attention; I was just a child after all, not worthy of their attention or time. But he was my grandfather, not just their patient.

The concept of ‘therapeutic use of self’ is the use of oneself as a therapeutic agent by integrating and empathising with the patient and their family. This can be to alleviate fear or anxiety, provide reassurance and obtain or provide necessary information in an attempt to relieve suffering. [9] This is particularly relevant in circumstances where treatments have a limited effect on the disease process, where suffering is prolonged rather than prevented.

Medical school does not always formally teach the importance of connecting with patients and the therapeutic role that students play. [10] Many young aspiring doctors seek to emulate the ‘professional’ and sometimes detached demeanour of their more senior counterparts; often getting too close to the patients is seen to be a one way street towards emotional burnout. However, therapeutically, the importance of being physically near patients and their families during their personal illness and distress cannot be over stated. [9]

While many students may claim to never have enough time in their schedules, they are often the most time-rich personnel. For this reason they are often the only ones who have the opportunity to sit down with the family and the patient. This is not to take away, explain or understand the pain, but rather as a symbol of support, so that they know we are witnesses to their suffering and that they have not been abandoned. [10]

Withdrawing versus withholding

The debate went on throughout the night: “We’re abandoning him?”

“No, it’s for the best, he doesn’t need to go through any more of this, the doctor said there’s no way he’s going to get better.”

“You want to stop all treatments? We should be trying new things not stopping old treatments!”

Traditional medical training places an emphasis on the acquisition of skills and expertise to help ‘fix’ the patients or their diseases. Interestingly, many clinicians are more comfortable withholding treatment – that is, not beginning new aggressive treatments – than stopping currently initiated treatments. [1,11,12] This may be because withdrawing attaches a feeling of responsibility and culpability for the death. [3,13] To avoid this, clinicians will often only withdraw support when it becomes clear that death will occur regardless of further treatment. In this way, a “causative link between non-treatment and death is avoided.” [14]

Increasingly in today’s medical system, a simple ‘fix’ does not exist for many patients and their diseases. For these patients, success is judged not on the amelioration of the pathological process, but instead, on whether a good quality of life can be achieved in spite of the presence of chronic disease. Various religions and cultures have differing views on quality of life arguments adding a further layer of complexity to the decision making process. Therefore it is important to take the background of the patient and their relatives into consideration. [3]

Similarly, individual variations exist between physicians, because although each will use the most current evidence available to decide plans for the best outcome, each person is influenced by their own ethical, social, moral and religious views. [3] This perhaps, is the reason why the modern curriculum has incorporated elements of personal reflection, professionalism and social foundations of medicine to guide students into thinking more reflectively and sensitively, allowing for a more holistic patient-centered approach.

Moral decisions

“He’s not going to get better,” I was told, “The doctors said we should stop the treatments because all they’re doing is causing him to suffer.” Even I could understand that decision when it was justified to me like that. Unfortunately others don’t necessarily see it that way.

Moral situations often arise when clinicians tell relatives that they believe treatment will not help the patient recover, and the option is given to withdraw aggressive treatment in favour of palliative care. Many perceive continued treatment to not only be life sustaining, but also potentially curative, and thus moving onto palliative care is often interpreted as a choice to end their loved one’s life. [5] Some feel it is better to watch their relative die while undergoing treatment rather than live with the belief that they consented to death. [3, 5] Unsurprisingly, relatives will often demand that “everything be done” to preserve life. [5, 15, 16]

It is important to remind family that withdrawing futile treatment does not mean withdrawing all treatment. Palliative management including analgesia, respect for dignity, and support will always be provided throughout the ordeal. [2] We must be mindful that in this day of medical advancements, it is quite common that caring for a chronically ill loved one becomes the sole purpose in the carer’s life. The health care system has generated a ‘patient support system’ in which the carer has one role, and is deprived of energy and time for anything else, forgoing careers, friends and hobbies. It is perhaps unsurprising, that towards the end of a patient’s life, the carer maybe unwilling to let go of the only remaining source of meaning in their life. [6]

These difficult decisions often don’t need to be made if adequate preparation has been made beforehand, by having advanced care directives documented and a durable power of attorney arranged before the condition of the patient declines. These items can make a world of difference for both the family and the health care staff. [13]

Final thoughts

Would I have done anything differently if I had the maturity and the training that I have now?

Medical students in general feel that completing a full history and examination is the extent of what they can offer to patients; [16] however, this is often not the case. Their support and knowledge base is invaluable to patients and their family. Students play a vital therapeutic role in assisting the patient and family to come to terms with the limitations of modern medicine, and to recognise that extension of the dying process undermines what both the medical team and the family ultimately want – a dignified and peaceful death.

It is easy to objectively look at a patient with whom we’ve had no past relationship and decide what the right choice is. But for families, it will never be that straight forward when a decision has to be made about a loved one. During these times, as medical students, we need more than the ability to communicate effectively, we need the mental fortitude to be able to step into that dark and difficult place with the patient and their family to truly connect, and be there for them not only with our book smarts, but as figures of support and strength.

Never underestimate the therapeutic potential of who we are. While we may lack the mountains of factual knowledge of our senior colleagues, we have the potential to excel in the more humanistic aspects of patient care. By learning to approach these cases with compassion and humility, we can hope that our presence and understanding will render healing in situations that cannot be cured by our medical knowledge. [10]

As he requested, treatment was withdrawn and palliative care started, the 76 year old grandfather, father, and husband returned home and passed away in a dignified and peaceful way surrounded by family.

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank his grandfather who gave him the world by teaching him to how to learn.

The author would also like to acknowledge the fantastic feedback provided by both reviewers which allowed him to gain a greater understanding into this fascinating topic.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

M Li: michael.li@anu.edu.au

References
[1] Slomka J. The negotiation of death: clinical decision making at the end of life. Soc Sci Med. 1992; 35(3): 251-9.
[2] Kasman DL. When is medical treatment futile? A guide for students, residents, and physicians. J Gen Intern Med. 2004; 19(10): 1053-6.
[3] Reynolds S, Cooper AB, McKneally M. Withdrawing life-sustaining treatment: ethical considerations. Surg Clin North Am. 2007; 87(4): 919-36, viii.
[4] Howard DS, Pawlik TM. Withdrawing medically futile treatment. J Oncol Pract. 2009; 5(4): 193-5.
[5] Murphy BF. What has happened to clinical leadership in futile care discussions? Medical Journal of Australia. 2008; 188(7): 418-9.
[6] Hardwig J. Families and futility: forestalling demands for futile treatment. J Clin Ethics. 2005; 16(4): 335-44.
[7] Beauchamp TL, Childress JF. Principles of biomedical ethics. New York: Oxford University Press; 1994.
[8] Rydvall A, Lynoe N. Withholding and withdrawing life-sustaining treatment: a comparative study of the ethical reasoning of physicians and the general public. Crit Care. 2008; 12(1): R13.
[9] Bartholomai S. Therapeutic Use of Self/Building a Therapeutic Alliance. In: Hospital I, editor.; 2008.
[10] Kearsley JH. Therapeutic Use of Self and the Relief of Suffering. CancerForum. 2010; 34(2).
[11] Pawlik TM, Curley SA. Ethical issues in surgical palliative care: am I killing the patient by “letting him go”? Surg Clin North Am. 2005; 85(2): 273-86, vii.
[12] Iserson KV. Withholding and withdrawing medical treatment: an emergency medicine perspective. Ann Emerg Med. 1996; 28(1): 51-4.
[13] Scanlon C. Ethical concerns in end-of-life care. Am J Nurs. 2003; 103(1): 48-55; quiz 6.
[14] Seymour JE. Negotiating natural death in intensive care. Soc Sci Med. 2000; 51(8): 1241-52.
[15] Foster LW, McLellan LJ. Translating Psychosocial Insight into Ethical Discussions Supportive of Families in End-of-Life Decision Making. Social Work in Helath Care. 2002; 35(3): 37-51.
[16] Frank J. Refusal: deciding to pull the tube. J Am Board Fam Med. 2010; 23(5): 671-3.

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

Burdens lifted, hopes restored

During the summer break of our third year of medicine at the University of Tasmania, we decided to embark on an elective at Padhar in India. The country of India fascinated us as an opportunity to experience a very different health care system and to learn more about the Indian culture.

Padhar is a small town located in Madhya Pradesh in the central highlands of India. It appealed to us because of its rural location. This tiny town boasts a 200 bed multispecialty missionary hospital, which initially started out in 1958 as a clinic. The hospital is often the first point of contact for many patients from surrounding states, including the Gond and the Korku tribals, and some patients travel for days to seek medical help here.

After fifteen hours of flying and an eventful 26 hour train ride, we arrived at Itarsi Junction, a two hour bumpy drive away from Padhar.

Padhar is declared endemic for malaria so we came ‘armed’ with insect repellents and mosquito coils. Despite our best efforts, we were not spared the wrath of the mosquitoes. We couldn’t help but feel paranoid when we got our first mosquito bites even though we took our doxycycline regularly.

Tuberculosis (TB) is a serious and common health problem in Padhar. We had not expected such a high prevalence to the extent that, for doctors in Padhar, the first differential diagnosis for a cough and a cold was often TB until proven otherwise. It was not uncommon to see the sorts of chest X-rays with cavitating lesions that we had previously only seen in textbooks.

Another difference we observed during our elective was the vastly differing attitudes to hygiene. In Australia we are well familiarised with the hand hygiene posters plastered all over hospital walls. In Padhar, in place of our ‘5 moments of hand hygiene’ signs are signs that read, ‘Gloves are useful but not necessary.’ The sanitation practices were also very rudimentary as basins of water and lemon replaced the sinks and chlorhexidine we had previously taken for granted.

Textbook photographs of patients with late presentations of cancer came to life in Padhar. Geographical barriers, as well as the habit of betel nut and tobacco chewing, often result in patients presenting with large tumours of the oral cavity. One of the cases we saw was that of a 45 year old man who presented for a surgical resection of a large squamous cell carcinoma on the left side of his tongue. The skilled surgeons at Padhar performed a COMMANDO Procedure (COMbined MANDibulectomy and Neck Dissection Operation). The surgeons are particularly skilled at this procedure as it is commonly performed. This is because late presentations of cancer are common here due to the lack of preventative screening, as well as geographical barriers and poverty. It saddened us to see that there is a huge health disparity between a developed and developing country.

However, despite disparities in health care systems, we found that generosity knew no boundaries. There were many charming patients and helpful medical staff whom we encountered during our time in Padhar. In particular, we met a pair of omphalophagus conjoined twins, who were four months old at the time of our visit. Their parents were poor farmers who were devastated when their twins were born, as they did not have the means to care for them. Therefore, they did what they thought was best for the twins, by returning home without them and leaving them in the hospital. Won over by the twins’ infectious smiles, the hospital staff decided to take them into their care. The current plan is to wait for the twins to reach ten kilograms before separating them. However, the amount needed to separate the twins is more than US$150,000, much more than the hospital can afford. In addition, the hospital would need to cover the cost of raising the twins. However, they are determined to raise the twins and provide them with the best life that they can have. The twins were constantly surrounded by nurses, doctors and other hospital staff. The care and love shown by the team in Padhar certainly tugged at our heartstrings.

We also saw other cases that taught us some fundamental rules about diagnosis and history taking. One was a sixteen year old girl who presented to the emergency department complaining of a five day history of progressively worsening generalised abdominal pain.. She had a background of trauma after a fall whilst collecting water from a well. Although injury to the jejunum is common after blunt force trauma, [1] the medical team had ruled it out as it would be expected to cause very significant pain, usually leading to immediate hospital presentation. Thus it came as a surprise when a perforated jejunum was found on X-Ray. This case reminded us that clinical presentations, though incredibly useful, can still be deceiving.

One of the highlights of the trip was being a part of the team involved in the Mobile Clinic under the Rural Outreach Program, which was an initiative of Padhar Hospital. The Mobile Clinic services the surrounding villages that have limited access to healthcare due to geographical barriers. More often than not, it would have been months or even years since the villagers engaged with the healthcare system.

The makeshift clinic attracted many people from the village and surrounding villages as people of all ages with a myriad of diseases lined up patiently to seek medical help. The most common presentation was scabies and we quickly ran out of Permethrin cream. As Padhar Hospital has always been passionate about contributing towards the fight against human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) we also took bloods from patients to test for HIV and educated them about the disease and the importance of safe sexual practices.

On the last few days of our trip, we were very lucky to be a part of Padhar’s celebration of World Aids Day. The prevalence of HIV/AIDS in India in 2009 was 2.4 million out of a population of 1.2 billion. [2] It was the aim of Padhar Hospital to raise awareness of HIV and AIDS in conjunction with this day. In the morning church service conducted in the hospital compound, testimonials were shared from HIV patients as well as doctors who had clinical contact with them. During the lunch break, the hospital invited school children from nearby primary schools as part of the awareness program. One of the interesting things they had in store for them was a parody of the stereotypes against HIV patients. It is good to see that, unlike for many in the older generations, these young minds were receptive to the idea that HIV is not a deadly infectious disease that spreads through touch. The children were educated about safe sex practices as well as informed about the availability of free needles.

Whilst seeing plenty of patients and medical staff gave us opportunities and insights into medicine, our elective was also a culturally enriching experience. Generally, people were curious about our backgrounds and it was good to be able to share our culture with them and learn about theirs too. It gave us a glimpse into a very different way of life to our own. We experienced firsthand the gracious hospitality of the locals; we were invited to be a part of one of the doctors’ daughter’s wedding, despite the fact that we have never met the bride before.

We also loved seeing the sights and sounds of the town and outskirts, from people bathing and doing their laundry in rivers to women in bright coloured sarees carrying urns twice the size of their heads. We also saw families of five piled onto motorcycles. We were touched by the hospitality that was shown by the villagers, despite the fact that we were foreigners who did not speak their language. Many villagers opened their homes to us and we had a chance to see how they live their life, which contrasted immensely to what we were used to. They cooked with firewood and had to walk a fair distance to collect water from wells. What touched our hearts was the fact that everyone seemed satisfied with what they had. Their voices and faces seemed to echo the old adage, “Happiness is not having what you want, but appreciating what you have.”

It was a humbling experience, and reminded us to be grateful for everything around us. It is sad to think that in this day and age, there are many people who are still living in poverty and unable to access healthcare. Hospitals like Padhar Hospital have certainly made a difference in terms of rural healthcare provision. When it was time for us to go, we left with a heavy heart but knowing that we will always do our best to uphold the hospital’s motto, ‘Burdens lifted, hopes restored.’

Acknowledgements

Sharene Chong and Niyanta D’souza for making the trip memorable. Dr Choudrie and the amazing team in Padhar for their hospitality. Pictures taken by Tiffany Foo.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

A Lim: jnalim@utas.edu.au

T Foo: sytfoo@utas.edu.au

References


[1]Langell J. Gastrointestinal perforation and the acute abdomen. The Medical Clinics of North America 2008;92(3):599-625.
[2] USAID, HIV/AIDS health profile [Internet]. 2010 [updated 2010 Dec; cited 2012 April 30]. Available from: http://www.usaid.gov/our_work/global_health/aids/ Countries /asia/india.html

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

Bring back the white coats?

Should we bring back the white coat? Is it time for this once-venerated symbol of medicine to re-establish itself amongst a new generation of fledgling practitioners? Or, is this icon of medical apparel nothing more than a potentially dangerous relic of a bygone era?

Introduction

The white coat has long been a symbol of the medical profession, dating back to the late-1800s. [1] It was adopted as medical thought became more scientific. [2] Doctors wore coats aligning themselves with the scientists of the day, who commonly wore beige coats, but instead chose white – the colour lacking both hue and shade – as representation of purity and cleanliness. [3] Nowadays, the white coat is rarely seen in hospitals, possibly due to suspicions that it may function as a vector for transmission of nosocomial infections. [4] This article addresses the validity of such concerns, by reviewing the available literature.

The vanishing white coat

Twenty years ago in the United Kingdom (UK) white coats were commonly worn by junior doctors while consultants wore suits. [5] The choice to not wear a white coat was seen as a display of autonomous, high-ranking professionalism. [6] Many older Australian nurses now recall when doctors commonly wore white coats in the hospital. Over the last decade, white coats have become a rarity in Australian hospitals. [7,8] There are many reasons why this change occurred. Table 1 outlines some common thoughts of doctors on the matter. Paediatricians and psychiatrists stopped using white coats as they thought that it created communication barriers in the doctor-patient relationship. [3] Society viewed white coats as a status symbol, [7] evoking an omnipotent disposition, which was deemed inappropriate. [6,7] In addition, it was thought white coats might be a vector for nosocomial infection. [6,9-13] With these pertinent issues, and no official policy requiring white coats, doctors gradually hung them up.

Table 1. Reasons for why doctors choose to wear or not wear white coats

 

Reasons why doctors wear white coats Reasons why doctors do not wear white coats
For identification purposes [8]

To carry things [14]

Hygiene [7,8]

To protect clothes [8]

To create a psychological barrier [3]

Patients prefer doctors in white coats [14]

Looks professional [8,14]

No one else does [8]

Infection risk [5,8,14]

Hot or uncomfortable [5,8,14]

Interferes with the doctor-patient relationship [6,14]

Lack of seniority [5]

 

Hospital policies and white coats

In 2007 the British Department of Health published guidelines for healthcare worker uniforms, that banned the white coat from hospitals in England, [15] thereby producing a passionate controversy. [4] The primary reason for the ban was to decrease health-care acquired infections, [9,12,16] which was supposedly supported by one of two Thames Valley University literature reviews. [6,13] Interestingly, these reviews stated there was no evidence to support the notion that clothing or specific uniforms, could be a noteworthy medium for the spread of infections. [6,13] On closer inspection of the British policy, however, they state: “it seems unlikely that uniforms are a significant source of cross-infection.” [15] The text goes on to support the new uniform guidelines, including the abolition of the white coat, because “the general public’s perception is that uniforms pose an infection risk when worn inside and outside clinical settings.” [6] This statement lacks evidence, as many studies show patients prefer their doctors to wear white coats [7,14,17] and the notion of patients being concerned about infection risk are uncommon. [7] It would appear that the British Department of Health made this decision for some reason other than compulsion by evidence.

Despite significant discussion and debate, the United States (US) has chosen not to follow England in banning the white coat. [3,12,18] The US has a strong tradition associated with the white coat, which may influence their reluctance to abandon them so quickly. In 1993, the ‘white coat ceremony’ was launched in the US, where graduating medical students were robed in a white coat, as the senior doctors ‘demonstrate their belief in the student’s ability to carry on the noble tradition of doctoring.’ [1] Only five years later, 93 US medical schools had adopted this practice. [1] This indicates that the white coat is a real source of pride for doctors in the US, however, tradition alone cannot dictate hospital policies. In 2009, the American Medical Association (AMA) passed a resolution to encourage the “adoption of hospital guidelines for dress codes that minimise transmission of nosocomial infections.” [19] Rather than banning white coats, [16] the AMA proposed the need for more research, noting that there was insufficient evidence to support that there was an increased risk of nosocomial infection directly related to their use. [18]

The Australian Government National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC) published the Australian Guidelines for the Prevention and Control of Infection in Healthcare in 2010, outlining recommendations for the implementation of infection control in all Australian hospitals, and other areas of healthcare, based on current literature. [20] It states that uniforms should be laundered daily, whether at home or at the hospital, and that the literature has not shown a necessity to ban white coats or other uniforms, as there is no evidence that they increase transmission of nosocomial infections. [20] These guidelines, also contained the article that the British Department of Health used in support of banning white coats. [6]

The evidence of white coats and nosocomial infection

There are minimal studies done trying to assess whether white coats are potential sources of infection or not. [9-12] Analysis of the limited data paints a uniform picture of the minimal possibility for white coats to spread infection.

In 1991 a study of 100 UK doctors demonstrated that no pathogenic organisms were cultured from the white coats. [10] Notably, this study also found that the level of bacterial contamination of white coats did not vary with the amount of time the coat was worn, but varied with the amount of use. [10] The definition of usage was not included in the article, although doctor-patient time is the most likely interpretation. Similarly, a study in 2000 isolated no Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), or other infective organisms, but still concluded that the white coat was a possible cause of infection. [11] This study stated white coats were not to be used as a substitute for personal protective equipment (PPE) and it was recommended that they should be removed before putting on plastic aprons. [11]

A recent study swabbed MRSA on 4% of the white coats of medical participants, even though it was the biggest study of its kind, there was no statistically significant difference between colonised and uncolonised coats due to the population size. [9] This study has limitations in that it did not compare contamination with clinical dress, which could potentially show there is no difference. There appeared to be a correlation with the MRSA contaminated coats and hospital-laundered coats with four out of the six coats being hospital-laundered. [9] A potential major contributing factor to the contamination of white coats could be the frequency of washing white coats. A survey in the 2009 study showed that 81% of participants had not washed their coats for more than seven days and 17% in more than 28 days. [9] Even though the 1991 study showed that usage, not time, was the determinate for bacterial load, this does not negate a high amount of usage over a long period of time. [10] Interestingly, there may be a correlation with the MRSA contaminated coats and hospital-laundered coats. [9]

In response to the British hospital uniform guidelines, a Colorado study, published in April 2011, compared the degree and rate of bacterial contamination of a traditional, infrequently-washed, long-sleeved white coat, to a newly-cleaned, short-sleeved uniform. [12] Their conclusions were unexpected, such that after eight hours of wear, there was no difference in the degree of contamination of the two. Additionally, the study concluded that there was also no difference in the extent of bacterial or MRSA contamination of the cuffs of the physicians. Consequently, the study does not discourage the wearing of long-sleeved white coats [12] and concludes that there is no evidence for their abolition due to infection control concerns.

While, all these studies indicate the potential for organisms that cause nosocomial infections to be present on white coats, [10-12] the common conclusion is there is no higher infection risk from daily-washed, white coats, than any other clinical attire. [12] It needs to be recognised there are many confounding factors in all of these studies that compare attire and nosocomial infection, hence more studies are needed to clearly establish guidelines for evidence-based practice regarding this issue. Gaining an understanding of the difference in transmission rates between specialities could assist in implementing specific infection control practices. Studies that clearly establish transmission of organism from uniform to patient, and clinical data on the frequency of such transmissions, would be beneficial in developing policy. Additionally, nationwide hospital reviews on rates of nosocomial infections, comparing the dress of the doctors and nurses would contribute to gaining a more complete understanding of the role that uniforms play in transmission of disease.

Australian hospitals and white coats

Queensland State Infection Control Guidelines published by the Centre for Healthcare Related Infection Surveillance and Prevention (CHRISP), surprisingly had no details of recommended dress of doctors that could be found. [21] State guidelines like these, in combination with federal guidelines, influence the policies that each individual hospital in Australia creates and implements.

A small sample of hospitals across all the states and territories of Australia were canvassed to assess what the general attitudes were towards the wearing of white coats during patient contact and whether these beliefs were evidence-based. The infection control officers of each of the hospitals were contacted, by myself and the specifics of their policies attained, along with an inquiry regarding the wearing of white coats by students or staff. This data was collected verbally. Obviously there are limitations to this crude data collection it is the result of attempting to attain data not recorded.

On the whole, individual hospital policies emulated National Guidelines almost exactly, by not expelling white coats; instead encouraging them to be washed daily, like normal dress. Some hospitals had mandatory ‘bare-below-the-elbows’ and ‘no lanyard’ policies, while many hospitals did not. White coats were worn in a significant amount of Australian hospitals, usually by senior consultants and medical students (see Table 2). The general response from infection control officers regarding the wearing of white coats was negative, presumably due to the long sleeves and the knowledge that they are probably not being washed daily. [10,12]

Table 2. Relevant policies in place regarding white coats and if white coats are worn within hospitals in major Australian centres.

Hospital Policy regarding white coats White coat worn
Townsville Hospital No policy An Emergency Department doctor and surgeon
Mater Hospital – Townsville No policy Nil known
Royal Brisbane and Prince Charles

– Metro  North*

No policy Medical students
Brisbane Princess Alexandra and Queen Elizabeth 2

– Metro South*

No policy Medical students
One consultant who requires his medical students to wear white coats
Royal Darwin Hospital Sleeves to be rolled up Nil known
Royal Melbourne Hospital No policy Nil known
Royal Prince Alfred Hospital
– Sydney
No policy Senior doctors, occasionally
Royal Hobart Hospital No policy Nil known
Royal Adelaide Hospital No policy Orthopaedics, gynaecologists and medical students
Royal Perth Hospital Sleeves to be rolled up Only known to be worn by one doctor
Canberra Hospital Sleeves to be rolled up

*All the hospitals in the northern metropolitan region of Brisbane are governed by the same policy, likewise for Metro South.

This table shows white coats are not extinct in Australian hospitals and the policies in place pertaining to white coats reflect the Federal Guidelines. Policies regarding lanyards, ties and long-sleeves differed between hospitals. It is encouraging to note that Australia has not followed in the footsteps of England, regarding the abolition of white coats, as there is limited scientific evidence to support such a decision. The policies in Australia regarding white coats require daily laundering, although current literature even queries the necessity for this. [12] The negative image of white coats in Australian hospitals by the infection control officers is probably influenced by the literature that shows that white coats become contaminated. [9] The real discussion, however, is the difference in contamination of white coats and other clinical wear.

Meditations of a medical student

My own views…

I have worn a white coat on numerous occasions, during dissections and lab experiments, but never when I am in contact with patients. According to the James Cook University School of Medicine dress policy, all medical students are to wear ‘clean, tidy and appropriate’ clinical dress. [22] No detail is included regarding sleeve length, colour or style, although social norm is a very powerful force, and the main reason that my colleagues and myself would not wear white coats is simply because no one else is wearing them. This practice is concurrent with a study on what Australian junior doctors think of white coats. [8]

Personally, I think that a white coat would be quite useful. It may even decrease nosocomial infection, as it has big pockets and could carry books and instruments, negating the need for a shoulder bag or putting items down in patient’s rooms, thus becoming a potential cross-infection risk. In regards to the effects on patients, I think the psychological impact may have some effect, but this would be different for each individual. White coats are not the cause of nosocomial infections that are rampant in our hospitals, it is the compliance of health professionals washing their hands and adhering to the evidence-based guidelines provided by infection control organisations. In Australia these guidelines give freedom to wear the white coats, so why not?

Conclusion

White coats are a symbol of the medical profession and date back to the beginnings of evidence-based medicine. Suitably, it is appropriate to let the evidence shape the policies regarding the wearing and laundering of white coats in hospitals and medical practice. There has been much debate regarding white coats as an increased risk for nosocomial infection, [3,4,12,16,18] as many studies have shown that white coats carry infectious bacteria. [9-12] But, more notably, a study published in April 2011, showed that the bacterial loads on infrequently washed white coats did not differ from newly cleaned short-sleeve shirts. [12] The reason why Britain decided to ban white coats in 2007 is a mystery. Australia has not banned white coats, although there are some practitioners who choose to wear them, but is it far from the norm. [8] A nation-wide, formal re-introduction of white coats into Australian medical schools has no opposition from infection control according to the current evidence. “…Might not the time be right to rediscover the white coats as a symbol of our purpose and pride as a profession?” [1]

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Sonya Stopar for her assistance in editing this article.

Correspondence

S Fraser: sara.fraser@my.jcu.edu.au

References

[1] Van Der Weyden MB. White coats and the medical profession. Med J Aust. 2001;174.
[2] Blumhagen DW. The doctor’s white coat:The image of the physician in modern America. Ann Intern Med. 1979;91(1):111-6.
[3] Ellis O. The return of the white coat? BMJ Careers [serial on the Internet]. 2010 Sep 1; [cited 2012 October 10]. Available from: http://careers.bmj.com/careers/advice/view-article.html?id=20001364.
[4] Kerr C. Ditch that white coat. CMAJ. 2008;178(9):1127.
[5] Sundeep S, Allen KD. An audit of the dress code for hospital medical staff. J Hosp Infect. 2006; 64(1):92-3.
[6] Loveday HP, Wilson JA, Hoffman PN, Pratt RJ. Public perception and the social and microbiological significance of uniforms in the prevention and control of healthcare-associated infections: An evidence review. British J Infect Control. 2007;8(4):10-21.
[7] Harnett PR. Should doctors wear white coats? Med J Aust. 2001;174:343-4.
[8] Watson DAR, Chapman KE. What do Australian junior doctors think of white coats? Med Ed. 2002; 36(12):1209-13.
[9] Treakle AM, Thom KA, Furuno JP, Strauss SM, Harris AD, Perencevich EN. Bacterial contamination of health care workers’ white coats. Am J Infect Control. 2009; 37(2):101-5.
[10] Wong D, Nye K, Hollis P. Microbial flora on doctors’ white coats. BMJ. 1991; 303(6817):1602-4.
[11] Loh W, Ng VV, Holton J. Bacterial flora on the white coats of medical students. J Hosp Infect. 2000; 45(1):65-8.
[12] Burden M, Cervantes L, Weed D, Keniston A, Price CS, Albert RK. Newly cleaned physician uniforms and infrequently washed white coats have similar rates of bacterial contamination after an 8-hour workday: A randomized controlled trial. J Hosp Med. 2011;6(4):177-82.
[13] Wilson JA, Loveday HP, Hoffman PN, Pratt RJ. Uniform: An evidence review of the microbiological significance of uniforms and uniform policy in the prevention and control of healthcare-associated infections. Report to the department of health (England). J Hosp Infect. 2007;66(4):301-7.
[14] Douse J, Derrett-Smith E, Dheda K, Dilworth JP. Should doctors wear white coats? Postgrad Med J. 2004;80(943):284-6.
[15] Jacob G. Uniforms and workwear: An evidence base for developing local policy [monograph on the Internet]. Leeds, England: Department of Health; 2007 [cited 2012 Oct 10]. Available from: http://www.dh.gov.uk/prod_consum_dh/groups/dh_digitalassets/documents/digitalasset/dh_078435.pdf.
[16] Sweeney M. White coats may not carry an increased infection risk. [monograph on the Internet]. Cambridge, England: Cambridge Medicine Journal; 2011 [cited 2012 Oct 10]. Available from: http://www.cambridgemedicine.org/news/1298329618.
[17] Gherardi G, Cameron J, West A, Crossley M. Are we dressed to impress? A descriptive survey assessing patients’ preference of doctors’ attire in the hospital setting. Clin Med. 2009;9(6):519/24.
[18] Henderson J. The endangered white coat. Clin Infect Dis. 2010;50(7):1073-4.
[19] American Medical Association [homepage on the Internet]. Chicago: Board of Trustees. c2010. Reports of the Boards of Trustees. p31-3. Available from: http://www.ama-assn.org/resources/doc/hod/a-10-bot-reports.pdf.
[20] National Health and Medical Research Council. [homepage on the Internet]. Australia; Australian guidelines for the prevention and control of infection in healthcare. 2010 [cited 2012 Oct 10]. Available from: http://www.nhmrc.gov.au/_files_nhmrc/publications/attachments/cd33_complete.pdf.
[21] Centre for healthcare related infection surveillance and prevention. [homepage on Internet]. Brisbane; [updated 2012 October; cited 2012 Oct 10]. Available from: http://www.health.qld.gov.au/chrisp/.
[22] James Cook University School of Medicine and Dentistry [homepage on the Internet]. Townsville. 2012 [cited 2012 Oct 10]. Clothing; [1 screen]. Available from: https://learnjcu.jcu.edu.au/webapps/portal/frameset.jsp?tab_tab_group_id=_253_1&url=/webapps/blackboard/execute/courseMain?course_id=_18740_1

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Feature Articles Articles

Putting awareness to bed: improving depth of anaesthesia monitoring

Intraoperative awareness and subsequent explicit recall can lead to prolonged psychological damage in patients. There are many methods currently in place to prevent this potentially traumatic phenomenon from occurring. Such methods include identifying haemodynamic changes in the patient, monitoring volatile anaesthetic concentration, and various electroencephalographic algorithms that correlate with a particular level of consciousness. Unfortunately none of these methods are without limitations.

Introduction

Intraoperative awareness is defined by both consciousness and explicit memory of surgical events. [1] There are a number of risk factors that predispose patients to such a phenomenon, both surgical and patient-related. Procedures where the anaesthetic dose is low, such as in caesarean sections, trauma and cardiac surgery, have been associated with a higher incidence. Likewise patients with low cardiac reserve or resistance to some agents are prominent attributable factors. [2] A small number of cases are also due to a lack of anaesthetist vigilance with administration of incorrect drugs or failure to recognize equipment malfunction. [2] Ultimately it is largely an iatrogenic complication due to administration of inadequate levels of anaesthetic drugs. Most cases of awareness are inconsequential, with patients not experiencing pain but rather having auditory recall of the experience, which is usually not distressing. [3] In some cases, however, patients experience and recall pain, which can have disastrous, long-term consequences. Awareness has a high association with post-operative psychosomatic dysfunction, including depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, [4] and is a major medico-legal liability. Though the incidence of awareness is infrequent, estimated to occur in 1-2 cases per 1000 patients having general anaesthesia in developed countries, [1] the sequelae of experiencing such an event necessitates the development and implementation of a highly sensitive monitoring system to prevent it from occurring.

Measuring depth of anaesthesia:

1. Monitoring clinical signs

Adequate depth of anaesthesia occurs when the administration of anaesthetic agents are sufficient to allow conduct of the surgery whilst ensuring the patient is unconscious. There are both subjective and objective methods of monitoring this depth. [5] Subjective methods rely primarily on the patient’s autonomic response to a nociceptive stimulus. [5] Signs such as hypertension, tachycardia, sweating, lacrimation and mydriasis indicate a possible lightening of anaesthesia. [5] Such signs however are not specific as they can be the result of other factors that cause haemodynamic changes, such as haemorrhage. Additionally, patient body habitus, autonomic tone and medications (in particular beta-adrenergic blockers and calcium channel antagonists) can also haemodynamically affect the patient. [5] Consequently the patient’s autonomic response is a poor indicator of depth of anaesthesia, [6] and the presence of haemodynamic change in response to a surgical incision does not indicate awareness, nor does the absence of autonomic response exclude it. [5]

Patient movement remains an important sign of inadequate depth of anaesthesia, however is often suppressed by administration of neuromuscular blocking drugs. [1] This consequent paralysis can be overcome with the ‘isolated forearm technique’. In this technique, a tourniquet is placed on an arm of the patient prior to administration of a muscle relaxant and inflated above systolic pressure to exclude the effect of the relaxant and retain neuromuscular function. The patient is then instructed to move their arm during the surgery if they begin to feel pain. [5] Though this technique is effective in monitoring depth of anaesthesia, it has not been adopted into clinical practice. [7] Furthermore, patient movement and autonomic signs may reflect the analgesic rather than hypnotic component of anaesthesia and thus are not an accurate measure of consciousness. [8]

2. Minimum Alveolar Concentration (MAC)

The unreliable nature of subjective methods for assessing depth of anaesthesia has seen the development and implementation of various objective methods which rely on the sensitivity of monitors. The measurement of end-tidal volatile anaesthetic agent concentration to determine the MAC has become a standard component of modern anaesthetic regimens. MAC is defined as the concentration of inhaled anaesthetic required to prevent 50% of subjects from responding to noxious stimuli. [9] It is recommended that administration of at least 0.5 MAC of volatile anaesthetic should reliably prevent intra-operative awareness. [10]

Unfortunately the MAC is affected by a number of factors and thus it is difficult to determine an accurate concentration that will reliably prevent awareness. Patient age is the major determinate of the amount of inhalation anaesthesia required, as are altered physiological states such as pregnancy, anaemia, alcoholism, hypoxaemia and temperature of the patient. [11] Most importantly, the administration of opioids and ketamine, both commonly included in the anaesthetic regimen, severely curtail the ability of the gas analyser to determine the MAC. [12] Further, the MAC is a reflection of inhalational anaesthetic concentration, not effect. The suppression of response to noxious stimuli whilst under volatile anaesthesia is mediated largely through the spinal cord, and thus does not accurately reflect cortical function and the penetration of the anaesthetic into the brain. [13] Another major limitation to using gas analysers is that they have limited reliability when intravenous anaesthesia is used. Simultaneous administration of intravenous anaesthetic agents is extremely common and in many cases total intravenous anaesthesia is used; in such cases the use of the MAC is not applicable.

3. Electroencephalogram (EEG) and derived indices

Bispectral Index (BIS)

Advances in technology have lead to the concomitant development of processed encephalographic modalities and their use as parameters to assess depth of anaesthesia; the most widely used being the BIS monitor. The BIS monitor uses algorithmic analysis of a patient’s EEG to produce a single number from 1 to 100, which correlates with a particular level of consciousness. [5,14] For general anaesthesia, 40-60 is recommended. [14] The establishment of this monitor at first seemed promising with the publication of several studies advocating its use in preventing awareness. The first of these was conducted by Ekman et al, [15] and indeed found that there was a substantial decrease in incidence of awareness when the BIS monitor was used. In this study, however, the patients were not randomly allocated to the control group and the BIS monitoring group, and thus the results are subject to a high degree of bias and cannot be reliably interpreted. The second study, the B-Aware trial, [16] also found that BIS-guided anaesthesia resulted in a reduction in awareness in high risk patients, however despite having a sound study design, subsequent studies failed to reproduce this result. One prominent study, the B-Unaware trial, [17] compared BIS monitoring to more traditional analysis of end-tidal concentrations of anaesthetic gases to assess depth of anaesthesia during surgeries on high risk patients. This study failed to show a significant reduction in the incidence of awareness using BIS monitoring, however a major criticism of this study is that the criteria used to classify the patients in the trial as ‘high-risk’ was less stringent than those used in the B-Aware trial which likely biased the results. Also, given the low incidence of awareness, a larger number of study subjects would be required to demonstrate any significant reduction.

The BIS monitor also has several practical issues that further question its efficacy in monitoring consciousness. It is subject to electrical interference from the theatre environment, particularly from electromyography, diathermy and direct vibration. [14] This is more likely in cases where the surgical field is near the BIS electrode (such as facial muscle surgery) which will falsely elevate BIS values, leading to possible excess administration of anaesthesia. [14] Similar to the MAC, standard BIS scores are not applicable to all patient populations, particularly in patients with abnormal EEGs – those with dementia, head injuries, cardiac arrest and have hypo- or hyperthermia. [1] In such cases, the BIS value may underestimate the depth of anaesthesia, leading to the administration of excess anaesthetic and a deeper level of anaesthesia than required. Further, as the molecular action of various anaesthetic agents differs, the consequent EEG changes are not uniform. Specifically, the BIS monitor cannot accurately assess changes in consciousness when the patient is administered ketamine [18] and nitrous oxide, [19] both commonly used agents.

Despite these practical downfalls, however, there are substantial benefits to the BIS monitor which should be incorporated into future depth of anaesthesia monitors. The BIS monitor helps anaesthetists to titrate the correct dosage of anaesthetic for the patient, [5] and to adjust this accordingly throughout the surgery to keep the patient within the recommended range for general anaesthesia without administering excess agent. This results in decreased haemodynamic disturbance, faster recovery times and reduced post-operative side effects. [20] A meta-analysis found that use of BIS monitoring significantly reduced anaesthetic consumption by 10%, reduced the incidence of nausea/vomiting by 23% and reduced time in the recovery room by four minutes. [21] This may offer a cost-benefit as less anaesthetic will be required during surgeries.

Despite the aforesaid advantages of using the MAC and BIS monitor to assess consciousness during surgery, the major inadequacy to both of these methods is that they only measure the hypnotic element of anaesthesia. [8] Anaesthetic depth is in fact a complex construct of several components including hypnosis, analgesia, amnesia and reflex suppression. [8] Different anaesthetic agents have varying effects across these areas; some are able to be administered independently, and others only have properties in one area, and thus must be used in conjunction with other pharmacologic agents to achieve anaesthesia. [8] If only the hypnotic component of anaesthesia is monitored, optimal drug delivery is difficult and there is a risk that insufficient analgesia may go unnoticed. Thus the MAC and BIS monitors can be used to monitor hypnosis and sedation, but have little role in predicting the quality of analgesia or patient movement mediated by spinal reflexes.

Entropy

Entropy monitoring is based on the acquisition and processing of EEG and electromyelogram (EMG) signals by using the entropy algorithm. [22] It relies on the concept that the irregularity within an EEG signal decreases as the anaesthetic concentration in the brain rises. Similar to the BIS, the signal is captured via a sensor that is mounted on the patient’s forehead, and the monitor produces two numbers between 0 and 100 – the response entropy (RE) and the state entropy (SE). The RE incorporates higher frequency components (including EMG activity) thus allowing a faster response from the monitor in relation to clinical state. [22] Numbers close to 100 suggest consciousness whereas numbers close to 0 indicate a very deep level of anaesthesia. The ideal values for general anaesthesia lie between 40 and 60. [22] Studies have shown that entropy monitoring measures the level of consciousness just as reliably as the BIS, and is subject to less electrical interference during the intraoperative period. [23]

Evoked potentials

Alternative mechanisms such as evoked potentials, which monitor the electrical potential of nerves following a stimulus, have also demonstrated a clear dose-response relationship with increasing anaesthetic administration [14,24]. In particular, auditory evoked potentials (in which the response to auditory canal stimulation is recorded) have lead to the development of the auditory evoked potential index. This index was proven to have greater sensitivity than the BIS monitor in detecting unconsciousness. [24] Unfortunately, using evoked potentials to monitor depth of anaesthesia is a complex process, and as with BIS many artifacts can interfere with the EEG reading. [14,24]

Brain Anaesthesia Response (BAR) Monitor

New electroencephalographically derived algorithms have been developed which define both the patient’s hypnotic and analgesic states individually. [25,26] This is essential in cases where combinations of anaesthetic agents that have separate sedative and analgesic properties are used. Dr David Liley, Associate Professor of the Brain Sciences Institute at Swinburne University of Technology, began a research project a decade ago with the aim of producing such a means of assessing consciousness, and subsequently pioneered the Brain Anaesthesia Response (BAR) monitor. [25] Liley initially analyzed EEG data from 45 patients in Belgium who were administered both propofol (a hypnotic agent) and remifentanil (an analgesic agent) as part of their anaesthetic regimen. Two measures were derived from the EEG to measure the brain response to the anaesthetic agents – cortical state (which measures brain responsiveness to stimuli) and cortical input (which quantifies the strength of each stimuli that reaches the brain). He was able to detect the effects of the drugs separately; cortical state reflected changes for hypnotic agents, and cortical input reactions reflected change in levels of analgesia; from this, the BAR algorithm was developed. [25] Its use will allow anaesthetists to determine which class of drug needs adjustment, and to titrate it accordingly. It is suggested that the BAR monitor will narrow the range of the exclusion criteria that limit previously mentioned indexes such as the BIS and Entropy. [25,26] This innovative monitor has an improved ability to detect a number of drugs that are not effectively measured using the BIS monitor, for example ketamine and nitrous oxide. [25] The capacity to titrate anaesthetics specifically and accurately would increase optimal drug delivery, not only reducing the likelihood of intra-operative awareness but also avoiding issues of over or under sedation. This in turn might reduce side effects associated with excess anaesthetic administration and improve post-operative recovery. The BAR monitor is currently undergoing trial at the Royal Melbourne Hospital under Professor Kate Leslie, and at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Melbourne under Dr. Desmond McGlade. [25,26]

Though advancements have undoubtedly been made in regards to depth of anaesthesia monitors, it cannot be emphasized enough that the most important monitor of all is the anaesthetist themselves. A significant percentage of awareness cases are caused by drug error or equipment malfunction. [2,27] These cases can easily be prevented by adhering to strict practice guidelines, such as those published by the Australian and New Zealand College of Anaesthetists. [28]

Conclusion

Measuring depth of anaesthesia to prevent intra-operative awareness remains a highly contentious aspect of modern anaesthesia. Current parameters for monitoring consciousness include the observation of clinical signs, the MAC and BIS indices, as well as less commonly used methods such as evoked potentials and entropy. These instruments allow clinicians to accurately titrate anaesthetic agents leading to a subsequent decrease in post-operative side effects and a reduction in awareness among patients at increased risk of this complication. Despite these benefits, all of the current monitors have limitations and there is still no completely reliable method of preventing this potentially traumatising event. What is required now is a parameter or measure that shows minimal inter-patient variability and the capacity to respond consistently to an array of anaesthetic drugs with different molecular formulations. It is important to remember, however, that no monitor can replace the role of the anaesthetist in preventing awareness.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

L Kostos: lkkos1@student.monash.edu

References

[1] Mashour GA, Orser BA, Avidan MS. Intraoperative awareness: From neurobiology to clinical practice. Anesthesiology 2011;114(5):1218-33.
[2] Ghoneim MM, Block RI, Haffarnan M, Mathews MJ. Awareness during anaesthesia: risk factors, causes and sequelae: a review of reported cases in the literature. Anesth Analg 2009; 108:527-35.
[3] Orser BA, Mazer CD, Baker AJ. Awareness during anaesthesia. CMAJ 2008; 178:185–8.
[4] Osterman JE, Hopper J, Heran WJ, Keane TM, Van der Kolk BA. Awareness under anaesthesia and the development of posttraumatic stress disorder. Gen Hosp Psychiatry 2001; 23:198-204.
[5] Kaul HL, Bharti N. Monitoring depth of anaesthesia. Indian J. Anesth 2002;46(4):323-32.
[6] Struys MM, Jensen EW, Smith W, Smith NT, Rampil I, Dumortier FJ et al. Performance of the ARX-derived auditory evoked potential index as an indicator of anesthetic depth: a comparison with bispectral index and hemodynamic measures using propofol administration. Anesthesiology 2002;96:803-16.
[7] Bruhn J, Myles P, Sneyd R, Struys M. Depth of anaesthesia monitoring: what’s available, what’s validated and what’s next? Br J Anaesth 2006; 97:85-94.
[8] Myles PS. Prevention of awareness during anaesthesia. Best Pract Res Clin Anesthesiol 2007; 21(3):345-55.
[9] Eger EI 2nd, Saidman IJ, Brandstater B. Minimum alveolar anaesthetic concentration: a standard of anaesthetic potency. Anesthesiology 1965; 26:756-63.
[10] Eger EI 2nd, Sonner JM. How likely is awareness during anaesthesia? Anaesth Analg 2005; 100:1544.
[11] Eger EI 2nd. Age, minimum alveolar anesthetic concentration and the minimum alveolar anesthetic concentration-awake. Anesth Analg 2001;93:947-53.
[12] Nost R, Thiel-Ritter A, Scholz S, Hempelmann G, Muller M. Balanced anesthesia with remifentanil and desflurane: clinical considerations for dose adjustment in adults. J Opioid Manag 2008;4:305-9.
[13] Rampil IJ, Mason P, Singh H. Anesthetic potency (MAC) is independent of forebrain structures in the rat. Anesthesiology 1993;78:707-12.
[14] Morimoto, Y. Usefulness of electroencephalogramic monitoring during general anaesthesia. J Anaesth 2008;22:498-501.
[15] Ekman A, Lindholm ML, Lennmarken C, Sandin R. Reduction in the incidence of awareness using BIS monitoring. Acta Anaesthesiol Scand 2004;48:20-6.
[16] Myles PS, Leslie K, McNeil J, Forbes A, Chan MT. Bispectral index monitoring to prevent awareness during anaesthesia : the B-Aware randomised controlled trial. Lancet 2004;363:1757-63.
[17] Avidan M, Shang L, Burnside BA, Finkel KJ, Searleman AC, Selvidge JA et al. Anesthesia awareness and the bispectral index. N Engl J Med 2008;358:1097-1108.
[18] Morioka N, Ozaki M, Matsukawa T, Sessler D, Atarashi K, Suzuki H. Ketamine causes a paradoxical increase in the Bispectral index. Anesthesiology 1997;87:502.
[19] Puri GD. Paradoxical changes in bispectral index during nitrous oxide administration. Br J Anesth 2001;86:141-2.
[20] Sebel PS, Rampil I, Cork R, White P, Smith NT. Brull S et al. Bispectral analysis for monitoring anaesthesia – a multicentre study. Anesthesiology 1993;79:178.
[21] Liu SS. Effects of bispectral index monitoring on ambulatory anaesthesia: a meta-analysis of randomized controlled trials and a cost analysis. Anesthesiology 2004;101:591-602.
[22] Bein B. Entropy. Best Pract Res Clin Anaesthesiol 2006;20:101-9.
[23] Baulig W, Seifert B, Schmid E, Schwarz U. Comparison of spectral entropy and bispectral index electroencephalography in coronary artery bypass graft surgery. J Cardiothorac Vasc Anesth 2010;24:544-9.
[24] Gajraj RJ, Doi M, Mantzaidis H, Kenny GNC. Analysis of the EEG bispectrum, auditory evoked potentials and EEG power spectrum during repeated transitions from consciousness to unconsciousness. Br. J. Anaesth 1998;80:46-52.
[25] Thoo M. Brain monitor puts patients at ease. Swinburne Magazine 2011 Mar 17;6-7.
[26] Breeze, D. Ethics approval obtained for BAR monitor trial in Melbourne. Cortical Dynamics Ltd. 2011 Nov; 1.
[27] Orser B, Mazer C, Baker A. Awareness during anaesthesia. CMAJ 2008;178(2):185–8.
[28] Australian and New Zealand College of Anaesthetics. Guidelines on checking anaesthesia delivery systems [document on the Internet]. Melbourne; 2012 [cited 2012 Sept 20]. Available from ANZCA: http://www.anzca.edu.au

Categories
Feature Articles Articles

Doctors’ health and wellbeing: Where do we stand?

Doctors continue to record significant rates of burn out, stress-related illness, substance abuse and suicide, despite greater awareness of these issues in the profession. [1,2] Whilst improved support services have been a positive move, there are underlying systemic issues that must be addressed within the profession.

Physician distress results from a complex interplay of several factors that include a challenging work environment, specific physician characteristics and other contextual factors such as stigma (Figure 1). [3] Specific physician characteristics that may make us prone to stress-related illness include the motivated and driven personality types that many of us possess; these are useful in meeting heavy workloads, but can be detrimental in times of distress. When combined with a great sense of professional obligation to patients, an “admirable but unhealthy tradition of self-sacrifice” can ensue. [4]

Stigma is also a contributing factor, with many doctors concerned about how they will be perceived by others. Common stigmatised attitudes include the fear of being considered weak, concern about registration status and career impact, and the need to appear healthy to patients. [1] These individuals are less likely to seek help for their illness or to take time off, which can be compounded by the pressure of ‘letting the team down’ when they do. Attitudes such as this develop early on as a medical student, and are often reinforced later in professional practice by colleagues and supervisors. [5,6]

These factors contribute to a culture within medicine of the frequent neglect of preventive health issues. [7] Commonly, there is a reliance on informal care from colleagues (‘corridor consultations’), and many doctors may self-diagnose and self-treat. [8] While this might suffice for minor illnesses, during times of serious distress or mental illness, this approach may lead to late or suboptimal treatment and a poor prognosis or to relapse. [6]

In the past, little effort has been made to promote prevention, wellbeing and appropriate self-care, particularly in the early stages of the profession such as during medical school. Current undergraduate medical curricula focus almost exclusively on the acquisition of clinical knowledge, with a clear deficit in the development of self-care skills and an understanding of the personal challenges of the profession. [5] This is increasingly evident in new graduates, with 38% of Australian junior doctors recently reporting that they were unprepared for life as a doctor and 17% who would not choose medicine as a career again, if given the choice. [8]

With a suicide rate up to two and a half times greater than the general population, a culture of self-care and wellbeing in the profession needs to be nurtured to ensure a more resilient medical workforce. [1,5]

So where do we stand?

The doctors’ wellbeing movement has had strong leadership through individual doctors and small groups such as Doctors’ Health Services. [7] In South Australia, ‘Doctors’ Health SA’ has developed into a fully independent, profession-controlled organisation that acts as a focal point for doctors’ health and provides clinical services in the central business district for doctors and medical students. The program offers comprehensive after-hours check-ups and easier access to a state-wide network of general practitioners and health professionals associated with the program. Similar programs are in development in other states. [8]

Medical student groups have also played important roles in health promotion and advocacy for student welfare needs. The Australian Medical Students’ Association has focussed heavily on medical student health and wellbeing in recent years, developing policy and resources to support student wellbeing. [9] Student-run wellbeing events are also now common place at most medical schools around Australia. It is essential that medical educators also play a role in promoting student wellbeing; Monash University has been a leader in this area, with the incorporation of a ‘Health Enhancement Program’ into its core medical curriculum, which aims to teach students about the relevance of mental and physical health in medicine. Further examples of initiatives aimed at students are listed in Table 1. [5]

Table 1. Summary of interventions to improve medical student wellbeing and health seeking behavior.

Intervention / Setting Aims Intervention Evaluation Results
Health Enhancement Program

(Monash University School of Medicine)

Australia

Evidence level: III-1* [15]

Foster behaviours, skills, attitudes and knowledge of self-care strategies for managing stress and maintaining healthy lifestyle, and understanding of the mind-body relationship. Eight lectures on mental and physical health, mind-body medicine, behaviour change strategies, mindfulness therapies, and the ESSENCE lifestyle program, supported by six two-hour tutorials. Depression, anxiety and hostility scales of the Symptom Checklist-90-R incorporating the Global Severity Index (GSI) and WHO Quality of Life (WHOQOL) questionnaire to measure effects on wellbeing. Improved student well-being was noted for depression and hostility subscales but not the anxiety subscale.

 

Mental Health in Medicine Seminar

(Flinders University Medical Students Society)

Australia

Evidence level: III-3*

Foster behaviours, skills, attitudes and knowledge of self-care strategies or managing stress and maintaining healthy lifestyle, and understanding of the mind-body relationship. Half-day didactic seminar discussing epidemiology, stigmatising attitudes, causes, risk factors, signs and symptoms of depression, stress management, and support avenues as a student and physician. Pre/post intervention survey to assess changes in mental health literacy (knowledge/attitudes towards depression and helpseeking behaviour). Based on International Depression Literacy Survey. Results pending at time of publication.
Student Well-Being Program (SWBP)

(West Virginia Uni. School of Medicine)

United States

Evidence level: III-3* [16]

Prevention and treatment of medical student impairment Voluntary lunch hour lectures (six lectures over six month period) for first and second year students addressing various aspects of wellbeing. Post-intervention questionairre distributed to 94 students assessing erceptions of depression, academic difficulties, substance abuse, health-seeking behaviour. Participants who had one or more symptoms of impairment were more likely to feel a need for counselling and to seek help
Physician Life-style Management Elective

(Wright State Uni. School of Medicine)

United States

Evidence level: III-3* [17]

Enhance the quality of medical student life-planning as a future physician and prevent physician disability. Voluntary two week elective (lectures) for first year students focusing on physician health, practice management, relationships, and physician disability. Ratings of each didactic session were collected from seventeen first year medical students. Students rated sessions on the residency experience highest followed by assertiveness training, then by emotional health management.
Wellness Elective

(Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine)

United States

Evidence level: III-3* [19]

Provide students with information on wellness, stress reduction, and coping strategies.

 

Series of six, weekly lectures from medical and allied health professionals on wellness, coping strategies and stress reduction. Evaluated via essay review and a questionnaire administered after the elective concluded. Participants reported that the elective helped them realise the importance of personal wellbeing, self-care, and provided a variety of coping strategies.
Self-care intervention

(Indiana University School of Medicine)

United States

Evidence level: III-3* [18]

Promote positive health habits and emotional adjustment during students’ first semester via selfawareness and self-care interventions. Lecture, written information, and group discussions on emotional adjustments, sleep hygiene, substance use and recognition/ management of depression and anxiety. Survey assessing patterns of sleep, alcohol consumption, depression, exercise, caffeine use, satisfaction with teaching, social life, physical health, emotional health, finances, time management. Promising effects on patterns of alcohol consumption, exercise and socialisation.

Influenced some sleep and exercise behaviours, but not overall emotional or academic adjustment.

*National Health and Medical Research Council levels of evidence. I: Systematic review of randomised controlled trials. II: One properly designed randomised controlled trial. III-1: One well designed pseudo-randomised controlled trial. III-2: Non-randomised trials, case–control and cohort studies. III-3: Studies with historical controls, single-arm studies, or interrupted time series. IV: Case-series evidence

Sadly, the doctors’ health agenda is still lacking within our hospitals, particularly for junior medical staff. Hospitals remain challenging places to work for interns and residents, with variable levels of support from the institutions. Administrative or support staff such as medical education officers may be asked to consider doctors’ health issues, but usually as an add-on to their daily roles, rather than as a core component of it. This has led to a sporadic approach towards junior doctor health, with the level of support dependent on individual clinical training staff. The Queen Elizabeth Hospital (SA) has a unique support program for interns, which incorporates five wellbeing sessions throughout the year as part of the weekly education schedule; however, this remains the exception rather than the rule.

For doctors’ health to move forward, it needs to become a mainstream workforce issue within medical education, training and practice. Leadership across each of these areas is important so that we can begin to implement systemic initiatives to facilitate resilience in doctors. One key area of focus should be greater mentoring and peer support, particularly within hospitals. [10,11] Whilst junior medical staff currently work fewer hours than in the past, this has also resulted in less ‘living in’, and reduced opportunities for peer support. Doctors’ common spaces, once typical places for medical staff to debrief with colleagues, are also the first areas to be expended within hospitals looking for more administrative space.

Health promotion also needs to occur across the learning and professional continuum of medical practice. It is essential that medical students and junior doctors are targeted, as this seems to be the time when an acceptance of self-treatment and stigmatised attitudes become entrenched.[6] With a greater awareness of these issues amongst the next generation of doctors, we can gradually shift the culture within the profession. Whilst this is difficult and many of us are set in our ways, it is incumbent upon all of us to have a vision of a medical profession that is strong, vibrant and resilient.

Tips for those who are struggling
Don’t be afraid to tell someone; struggling in medicine is more common than you think.
Don’t rely on alcohol or other drugs to cope. This can have a brief mood-lifting effect but can later cause feelings of depression or anxiety.
Try to eat a healthy diet and stay active.
Keep connected with other people, including a support network outside of medicine.
Seek help early from a friend, teacher, doctor, or counsellor. All states and territories now have specific health services for doctors and medical students.

Conflict of interest

None declared.

Correspondence

M Nguyen: minh.nguyen@flinders.edu.au

Categories
Articles Feature Articles

Student-led malaria projects – can they be effective?

Introduction
In this article we give an account of establishing a sustainable project in Uganda. We describe our experiences, both positive and negative, and discuss how such endeavours are beneficial to both students and universities. The substantial work contributed by an increasing group of students at our university and around Australia demonstrates an increasing push towards a greater national contribution to global health. Undoubtedly, student bodies have the potential to become major players in global health initiatives, but first we must see increased financial and academic investment by universities in this particular area of medicine.

Background
There are an estimated three billion people at risk of infection from malaria, with an estimated one million deaths annually. The greatest burden of malaria exists in Sub-Saharan Africa. [1,2] Amongst the Ugandan population of 26.9 million, malaria is the leading cause of morbidity and mortality, with 8 to 13 million episodes reported. [3] The World Malaria Report estimated that there were 43 490 malaria-related deaths in Uganda in 2008, ranking it third in the world behind Nigeria and the Democratic Republic of Congo. [4] In 2011, the situation remained alarming, with 90% of the population living in areas of high malaria transmission. [5]

The focus of this report is the Biharwe region of south-west Uganda. Due to a lack of reliable epidemiological data regarding the south-west of Uganda, it is difficult to evaluate the effectiveness of current malaria intervention strategies. However, Uganda is a country with relatively stable political and economic factors, [6] making it a strong candidate for the creation of sustainable intervention programs.

Insecticide Treated Nets (ITN)
Insecticide treated nets are a core method of malaria prevention and reduce disease-related mortality. [5] The World Health Organisation (WHO) Global Malaria Programme report states that an insecticide-treated net is a mosquito net that repels, disables and/or kills mosquitoes that come into contact with the insecticide. There are two categories of ITNs: conventionally treated nets, and long-lasting insecticidal nets (LLINs). The WHO recommends the distribution of LLINs rather than conventionally treated nets as LLINs are designed to maintain their biological efficacy against vector mosquitoes for at least three years in the field under recommended conditions of use, removing the need for regular insecticide treatment. [7]

Long-lasting insecticide nets have been reported to reduce all-cause child mortality by an average of eighteen percent in Sub-Saharan Africa (with a range of 14-29%). This implies that 5.5 lives could be saved per 1000 children under five years of age per year. [8] Use of LLINs in Africa increased mean birth weight by 55 g, reduced low birth weight by 23%, and reduced miscarriages/stillbirths by 33% in the first few pregnancies when compared with a control arm in which there were no mosquito nets. [9]

Use of LLINs is one of the most cost-effective interventions against malaria. In high-transmission areas where most of the malaria burden occurs in children under the age of five years, the use of LLINs is four to five times cheaper than the alternate strategy of indoor residual spraying. [10] Systematic delivery of LLINs through distribution projects can be a cost-effective way to make a significant impact on a local community. This makes the distribution of LLINs an ideal project for student-led groups with limited budgets.

Our experience implementing a sustainable intervention project in Uganda
This article comments on student-led research performed in Biharwe, which aimed to evaluate the Biharwe community’s current knowledge of malaria prevention techniques; to assess how people used their ITNs and to investigate from where they sourced their ITNs. We also aimed to alleviate the high malaria burden in Biharwe through the distribution of ITNs. We fundraised in Tasmania, with financial support being garnered from local Rotarian groups and student societies. Approximately five thousand dollars was raised which we used to purchase ITNs. Simultaneously we began contacting a local non-governmental organisation (NGO) and a student body from Mbarara University, the largest university in south-west Uganda. We felt we had laid the foundation for a successful overseas trip.

Our endeavours suffered initial setbacks due to the observation of a local organisation we were working with misusing the funds of other projects. We felt that in order to avoid a similar fate we would need to cut ties, and decided to seek out other local groups. We made contact with the Mbarara University students and they pointed us towards the Biharwe sub-county as a region of particular neglect with regards to previous government and NGO ITN distribution programs. At their recommendation we travelled to villages in the area. Access to these villages was obtained through respectfully approaching the village representatives and their councils, and asking their permission to engage with the local community.

Despite all our preparations before heading to Uganda, we were still not fully prepared for the stark realities of everyday life in East Africa. One problem we encountered was the misuse and misunderstanding of the ITN distribution program by locals. We also encountered local ‘gangs’ who would collect free ITNs from our distribution programs and then sell them at the market place for a profit; people who used their ITNs as materials to build their chicken coups; and widespread myths about the effects of ITNs. To combat this we sought the advice of a local priest who requested that the village heads put together a list of households as a means of minimising the fraudulent distribution of our nets. While not ideal, this approach did give us greater confidence when distributing the ITNs. As Uganda is a religious nation the support of a well-respected local priest made local leaders more receptive to our program.

It became apparent that we had to strengthen our understanding of local attitudes towards and usage of ITNs if we were to create a long-term, meaningful relationship with people in the area. At the suggestion of Mbarara University students, we commissioned DEKA Consult Limited, a local research group, to conduct qualitative epidemiological research in villages in these communities. Data collected was useful in identifying the scope of the problem. It identified that community members already had a significant amount of knowledge on the use of ITNs and that those who owned mosquito nets had purchased them from local suppliers. Local ethics approval and permission for access to local community members was gained by DEKA Consult Limited.

Evaluating local knowledge on malaria prevention
The study commissioned addressed community attitudes towards malaria prevention by surveying two distinct groups living in the Biharwe sub-county of south-west Uganda. Through questionnaires and focus group discussions, local researchers gathered information concerning attitudes towards and usage of mosquito nets in the area. One of the key findings was that ITNs were nominated as the main preventative technique by the respondents (33.3%). This is congruent with previous data indicating an increase in awareness of ITNs in Uganda following the Roll Back Malaria Abuja Summit. [11] A majority of respondents indicated some knowledge of the appropriate use of these mosquito nets (83.3%), meaning though that one in six of the Biharwe community members were unsure of how to correctly use ITNs. The research also explored common reasons why people neglected to sleep under ITNs in the Biharwe sub-county. Common misperceptions such as ITNs causing impotence and leading to burns were identified as barriers to people using their mosquito nets, and were issues that would need to be addressed in future education seminars. The findings indicate that assessment of existing knowledge and perceptions of a community are crucial in identifying obstacles that must be overcome during the implementation of an effective intervention project. Activities promoting education can then be moulded around the particular culture and social dynamic of a community, which will lead to maximal project impact. [12, 13] We believe this data indicates that the distribution of ITNs would be improved if it was accompanied by robust educational initiates that are tailored to local community needs.

Our way forward
In the summer of 2011-2012 another group of students from UTAS implemented an LLIN distribution project in the south-west of Uganda. They furthered the work outlined in this report. Our experiences and connections provided an excellent foundation for them to implement expanded projects. A further group of UTAS students has been assembled and is planning to travel to Uganda this coming summer, once again with the aim of building on the previous two visits. With the generous assistance of the Menzies Institute and UTAS School of Medicine, plans for a more robust epidemiology project have been formulated in order to measure the efficacy of future projects in Uganda. We believe the sustainability and effectiveness of these programs relies on both the development of a long-term relationship between our student organisation and the local community, as well as appropriate evaluation of all our projects.

Free distribution or subsidised LLINs
The majority of the malaria burden exists in the poorest, most rural communities, yet it is these regions that are often neglected in widespread ITN distribution programs. [14]

Our data indicates that only a minority of the households in the rural Biharwe sub-county own ITNs (11.1%), and that all of these ITNs have been purchased through the commercial sector. Again methodological disparities need to be addressed in order to confirm the validity of these results. However it does raise the important question of whether the commercial sector, rather than the public/non-governmental organisation (NGO) sector, would be better placed to serve their local communities.

Our dilemma serves as a microcosm for a much larger debate that has been occurring over the last decade regarding the most effective means of delivering ITNs in order to achieve the greatest national coverage.[15] Free distribution of ITNs is far more equitable and effective at reaching the poor. [16] However, utilisation of the commercial sector through subsidies, vouchers or a stratification model [17] is more sustainable, because a portion of the losses may be recovered. Populations, including those in the rural Biharwe sub-region, that have been neglected from ITN schemes such as Roll Back Malaria, [5] may stand to benefit from free targeted distribution of nets. Collaborations with both local and international students are well placed to combine local knowledge and financial support to best implement such initiatives.

The role of students in malaria prevention and international development projects
Organisations such as the World Health Organisation, when involved in widespread ITN distribution, [5] have far greater capabilities than any student-led project. However, due to shortfalls in funding and co-ordination, these schemes will not be able to reach all at-risk populations, particularly the poorest rural areas. [5] Small scale and independently funded student-led projects can fill a void in this neglected population. In order to achieve the maximal impact with a malaria intervention project, students should identify areas with a low rate of household ITN ownership, as well as areas with a low percentage of the owned ITNs being donated. It is these areas that ultimately stand to make the greatest progress in terms of ITN coverage amongst vulnerable individuals, resulting in a decrease in morbidity and mortality from malaria. [18] With locally-specific research, strong relationships with the community and the community leaders, and appropriate evaluation processes in place, students can make the maximal impact on reducing morbidity and mortality from malaria with limited funds. [19]

The aim should always be for a long-term partnership between the community [19] and student-led organisations who are willing to promote sustainability. This has the greatest opportunity to provide long-term benefits for both parties. Our experience is that medical students provide a continuous stream of like-minded youth who have been able to rise to the challenge and continue the work of previous students. Through bilateral exchanges between students and overseas partners, trust and friendship are able to be fostered, which further encourages participation in the project upon returning. Important information regarding the social hierarchy is also gained, which greatly helps with gaining access to the local decision makers. In turn, this creates greater understanding of the health problems, culture and reasons why particular communities have been left behind. Student-led organisations are perfectly placed to deliver these educational programs, as they constitute a long-term pool of motivated, altruistic skilled workers who are able to learn from their predecessors. Individual students also stand to benefit through increased cultural understanding, application of learned skill sets and an opportunity which can enhance their career paths. [19] Through appropriate long-term trial, error and proper evaluation, systems of program implementation can be formulated which may then be applied to similar communities elsewhere.

The Role of Universities
Preparing students for a leadership role in global health and its related fields is critical. University curricula should reflect today’s problems and those that are likely to be present in the coming decades. [20] It is our opinion that students are increasingly becoming aware and more willing to be involved in providing solutions, no matter how small, to current international issues, thanks mainly to a surge in the exposure to social media. When universities do not explore such issues deeply in their curricula, and do not provide the support for active student involvement, it may lead students to perceive that universities are about something other than the realities of the world. [21] Encouraging participation in international health projects has been reported to encourage students to better examine cross cultural issues, to improve their problem solving skills and to help improve the delivery of healthcare for under-privileged people. [22] These are transferable skills that are vital in the Australian health care system.

North American and European universities continue to lead the way; however, Australian universities are starting to become more involved with global health issues. The Australian Medical Students Association’s Global Health Committee aims to link and empower groups of students from each Australian medical school. [23] The Melbourne University Health Initiative, which oversees the Victorian Student’s Aid Program, aims to help students make a difference in health issues on a local and international level by running events on campus to promote awareness about several health issues, and by organising public health lectures to promote awareness in the community. [24] The Training for Health Equity Network (THEnet) is a composition of ten schools from around the world, including James Cook and Flinders Universities, who have committed to ensure that teaching, research and service activities address priority health needs, using a focus on underserved communities. [25] A focus of THEnet is on social accountability, with a framework to assess whether the schools are contributing to the improvement of health conditions within their local communities. [26]

In our view, there is no doubt that there needs to be more penetration of such initiatives into each of the universities’ curriculum. Should this occur, Australia may be able to produce a generation of graduates who will be well placed to address the numerous complex global health issues we are facing today, and that we will inevitably face in the future.

Conflict of interest
None declared.

Correspondence
B Wood: benjaminmwood88@gmail.com

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