
Cartoon – Maybe We Can Turn It Around






Rationing of care for novel coronavirus patients has been reported in China and Italy.
Medical utility based on scientific patient profiles should guide decisions to ration critical care resources such as ventilators, medical ethicist James Tabery says.
In a pandemic, public health considerations should drive decisions on prioritizing who is tested for disease, he says.
The novel coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic is raising thorny medical ethics dilemmas.
In China and Italy, there have been reports of care rationing as the supply of key resources such as ventilators has been outstripped by the number of hospitalized COVID-19 patients. China, the epicenter of the pandemic, has the highest reported cases of COVID-19 at more than 80,800 as of March 17, according to worldometer. Italy has the second-highest number of COVID-19 cases at nearly 28,000 cases.
The severest form of COVID-19 includes pneumonia, which can require admission to an ICU and mechanical ventilation. “Those are not just things, there are expertly trained healthcare workers who man those domains. There just isn’t enough of these resources than what we anticipate needing,” says James Tabery, PhD, associate professor in the University of Utah Department of Philosophy and the University of Utah School of Medicine’s Program in Medical Ethics and Humanities.
He says the COVID-19 outbreak poses four primary ethical challenges in the healthcare sector.
In the United States, caring for the anticipated surge of seriously ill COVID-19 patients is likely to involve heart-wrenching decisions for healthcare professionals, Tabery says. “The question is how do you ration these resources fairly? With treatment—we are talking about ICUs, ventilators, and the staff—the purpose is you are trying to save the severely sick. You are trying to save as many of the severely sick as you can.”
The first step in managing critical care resources is screening out patients who are unlikely to need critical care and urging them to self-quarantine at home, he says.
“But eventually, you bump up to a place where you not only have screened out all of the folks who are at low risk of serious illness, but you have millions of people across the country who fall into high-risk groups. If they get infected, many are going to need access to ventilators, and the way you do that ethically is you screen patients based on medical utility,” Tabery says.
Medical utility is based on scientific assessments, he says. “You basically look at the cases and try to evaluate as quickly and efficiently as possible the likelihood that you can improve a patient’s condition quickly.”
Rationing of critical care resources would be jarring for U.S. clinical staff.
Under most standard scenarios, a patient who is admitted to an ICU and placed on mechanical ventilation stays on the machine as long as the doctors think the patient is going to get better, Tabery says.
However, the COVID-19 pandemic could drive U.S. caregivers into an agonizing emergency scenario.
“When there are 10 people in the emergency room waiting to get on a ventilator, it is entirely feasible that you would be removing people from ventilators knowing that they are going to die. But you remove people from ventilators when your evaluation of the medical situation suggests that patients are not improving. If a patient is not improving, and it doesn’t look like using this scarce resource is a wise investment, then you try it out on another patient who might have better luck,” he says.
There has been rationing of COVID-19 testing in the United States since the first novel coronavirus patient was diagnosed in January.
While there are clinical benefits to COVID-19 testing such as determining what actions should be taken for low- and high-risk patients, the primary purpose of testing during a pandemic is advancing public health, Tabery says.
“The primary purpose of the test is pure public health epidemiology. It’s about keeping track of who has COVID-19 in service of trying to limit the spread of the disease to other people. When that is the purpose, the prioritization isn’t so much about who is at greatest risk. It’s about who is more likely to interact with lots of people, or who is more likely to have interacted with more people.”
A classic example of rationing COVID-19 testing based on public health considerations is the first reported infection of an NBA player, he says.
“For the Utah Jazz player who had symptoms, it made sense to test him very quickly because it was clear that he had interacted with a lot of people. Once he tested positive, the testing of the other players was not because public health officials thought the players were more valuable than the average person on the street. It was because the players had come into contact with more people than the average person on the street.”
The COVID-19 pandemic involves competing obligations for healthcare workers, Tabery says. “On the one hand, they have a set of obligations that inclines them to go to work when they get the call. On the other hand, healthcare workers have their own interests—they don’t want to get sick, which can incline them not to work,” he says.
“The punchline is there is an ethical consensus that healthcare workers have a prima facie duty to work because of everything that has been invested in them, because of their unique position where not just anybody can replace them, because society looks to them to serve this function, and because they went into this profession and are expected to go into work,” he says.
However, the obligation of healthcare workers to show up for their jobs is not absolute, Tabery says. “If hospitals don’t have personal protective equipment, they are in no position to tell their staff to show up and work. If a hospital cannot provide even a basic level of safety for their employees to do their job, then they are turning their hospital not into a place to treat patients—they are turning it into a hub to exacerbate the problem.”
When a vaccine becomes available, policymakers, public health officials, and healthcare providers will face rationing decisions until there is sufficient supply to treat the entire U.S. population, Tabery says.
“When the vaccine comes out, the first group you are going to want to prioritize are healthcare workers, who are at risk of getting infected by doing their jobs and saving lives. You would also want to prioritize people who serve essential functions to keep society going—the people who keep the water running, the lights on, police, and firefighters. Then you want to start looking at the high-risk groups,” he says.

One doctor dreamed he was surrounded by coughing patients. “Most physicians have never seen this level of angst and anxiety in their careers,” a veteran emergency room doctor said.
SEATTLE — After her shifts in the emergency room, one doctor in Utah strips naked on her porch and runs straight to a shower, trying not to contaminate her home. In Oregon, an emergency physician talks of how he was recently bent over a drunk teenager, stapling a head wound, when he realized with a sudden chill that the patient had a fever and a cough. A doctor in Washington State woke up one night not long ago with nightmares of being surrounded by coughing patients.
“Most physicians have never seen this level of angst and anxiety in their careers,” said Dr. Stephen Anderson, a 35-year veteran of emergency rooms in a suburb south of Seattle. “I am sort of a pariah in my family. I am dipping myself into the swamp every day.”
As the coronavirus expands around the country, doctors and nurses working in emergency rooms are suddenly wary of everyone walking in the door with a cough, forced to make quick, harrowing decisions to help save not only their patients’ lives, but their own.
The stress only grew on Sunday, when the American College of Emergency Physicians revealed that two emergency medicine doctors, in New Jersey and Washington State, were hospitalized in critical condition as a result of the coronavirus. Though the virus is spreading in the community and there was no way of ascertaining whether they were exposed at work or somewhere else, the two cases prompted urgent new questions among doctors about how many precautions are enough.
“Now that we see front-line providers that are on ventilators, it is really driving it home,” Dr. Anderson said.
Doctors, nurses and other staff members in a variety of hospital departments face new uncertainty. In intensive care units, for example, health care providers must have extended exposure to people who have contracted the virus. But they know in advance of the risk they face.
In emergency departments, the danger comes from the unknown.
Patients arrive with symptoms but no diagnosis, and staff members must sometimes tend to urgent needs, such as gaping wounds, before they have time to screen a patient for Covid-19, the disease caused by the virus. At times, the protocols they must follow are changing every few hours.
“Many of us have trained for disasters, like Ebola and hurricanes,” said Dr. Adam Brown, the president of emergency medicine for Envision Healthcare, the largest provider of contract physicians to emergency rooms. “This is different because of the scale and scope of the disease.”
Add to that the shortage of protective gear and delays in testing, and health care workers fear they are flying blind.
Though the numbers are still low, Envision, which employs 11,000 emergency clinicians across the United States, has five times as many doctors under quarantine as it did a week ago, Dr. Brown said.
Several providers spoke on the condition of anonymity because their employers have told them not to talk to the news media.
The personal strain is cascading as the virus reaches new parts of the country. “Everybody feels the stress, but everybody is pulling together,” said Dr. K. Kay Moody, an emergency room doctor in Olympia, Wash., who runs a Facebook group with 22,000 emergency physicians. “That is what is keeping us OK.”
A few doctors said they were talking about bunking up in Airbnbs to create “dirty doc” living quarters to avoid endangering their children when they go home. Some are showing their partners where to find their passwords and insurance, should they end up in intensive care. Dr. Moody said she knew of at least one doctor whose former spouse was threatening to take their children away if the doctor went to work.
Many emergency physicians work as contractors, not hospital staff, so they will not necessarily be paid if they are quarantined. “As it stands, that is one of the most anxiety-provoking things,” Dr. Moody said, “on top of fear for your life.”
Nurses face similar challenges, though with less pay and support. An emergency nurse in Milwaukee said she bought her own goggles after hearing that protective gear was running low. A nurse at a rural hospital near Lake Tahoe in California said that the hospital was providing physicians with shower facilities as well as clean scrubs to wear, but that nurses had to wash their work clothes at home. She said that the physicians she worked with lobbied the hospital to provide clean scrubs for the nurses, but that the hospital concluded it would cost too much.
One doctor, who spoke on condition that the identity of the veterans hospital where she worked was not revealed, said the protocols have not kept up with the changing reality on the ground. When determining if a patient should get a separate room, she said, the emergency department still asks patients if they have been to high-risk countries, like China and Italy, even though community transmission of the virus has been well established.
Doctors have begun building plans for how they will ration supplies when there are more patients than their hospitals can handle. Emergency room doctors have experience sitting families down to advise discontinuing care because it would be futile. But in the United States, they are not used to making such calls based on resources alone.
Some said they were looking to Italy, where doctors on the front line have sometimes had to ration care in favor of younger patients, or those without other complicating conditions, who are more likely to benefit from it.
“If we get it all at once, we don’t have the resources, we don’t have the ventilators,” said Dr. William Jaquis, chair of the American College of Emergency Physicians.
Last week, Italian media reported that Bergamo, a city northeast of Milan, saw roughly 50 doctors test positive for the virus. In the region of Puglia in the south, local media reported that 76 employees had been quarantined after being exposed to patients who contracted Covid-19.
After the coronavirus broke out at a nursing facility near Seattle, Dr. Anderson sat with the leaders of his hospital, MultiCare Auburn Medical Center, to talk about how urgently they should prepare. Their hospital is ringed by nursing homes and other care facilities, and he rattled off those most at risk for fatal cases of the virus: males over 60, and those with cardiac and pulmonary problems. “I literally stopped what I was saying and realized that that was me,” he said.
He said his hospital was down to a two-day supply of surgical masks — he wears one per shift. “Those are supposed to be disposable,” he said. Now he must carefully remove and clean the mask each time he takes it off and on. “That may sound just like a nuisance, but when you’re potentially touching something that has the virus that could kill you on it, and you’re doing it 25 times a shift, it’s kind of nerve-racking,” he said.
His wife has moved to their mountain cabin, and they have given up on their retirement cruise in Europe. “I haven’t slept for longer than three hours in the past two weeks,” he said.
In the early hours of Monday morning, he could not sleep. More than 200 emails had come into his inbox since he went to bed, including news that three other health care providers had been admitted to a hospital overnight, he said.
But he plans to be at his next shift nonetheless.
“I have been doing this for 35 years,” he said, “and I’m not going to stop now.”

My country’s health care system may soon collapse.
MILAN — None of us have ever experienced a tragedy like it.
We know how to respond to road accidents, train derailments, even earthquakes. But a virus that has killed so many, which gets worse with each passing day and for which a cure — or even containment — seems distant? No.
We always think of calamity as something that will happen far from us, to others far away, in another part of the world. It’s a kind of superstition. But not this time. This time it happened here, to us — to our loved ones, our neighbors, our colleagues.
I’m an anesthesiologist at the Policlinico San Donato here in Milan, which is part of the Lombardy region, the heart of the Italian coronavirus outbreak. On Feb. 21, the day on which the first case was recorded, our hospital, which specializes in cardiac surgery, offered to help with the care of patients with Covid-19. Along with other hospitals, we created a task force of intensive care doctors to be sent to hospitals in the “red zone.”
All planned surgeries were postponed. Intensive care beds were given over to the treatment of coronavirus patients. Within 24 hours, the hospital created new intensive care places by converting operating theaters and anesthetic rooms. And 40 more beds were dedicated to patients suspected or proven to have the virus, though not in a serious condition.
But the increases in cases are astounding. As of Tuesday, nationwide, there were 31,506 cases, of which 2,941 recovered and 2,503 died. Lombardy, the region most affected, has 16,220 cases, with 1,640 dead, 879 in intensive care — 56 more than the day before — and 2,485 clinically cured. With these numbers, the country’s health care system may soon collapse.
The patients who arrive remain for many days, straining medical resources. Already across northern Italy — in Lombardy, Veneto, Emilia-Romagna and Marche — health care systems are under enormous stress. Medical workers are exhausted. As the virus spreads, other regions will soon find themselves in the same situation.
Fortunately, Lombardy and the national government adopted aggressive containment measures 10 days ago. By the end of this week — after 15 days, the incubation period of the infection — we will see whether such measures have been effective. Only then might we see a slowing down in the spread of the virus.
It cannot come too soon. There has been speculation that doctors may be forced to decide whom to treat, leaving some without immediate care. That’s not my experience: All patients at my hospital have received the treatment they require. But that may not last. If the number of patients infected does not start to drop, our resources won’t stretch to cover them. At that point, triaging patients — to give priority to those with more chances of survival — may become standard practice.
My colleagues, at the Policlinico and throughout the country, are showing a great spirit of sacrifice. We know how much we are needed right now; that gives us strength to withstand fatigue and stress. How long such resistance will last, I cannot say. Some colleagues have tested positive for the coronavirus, and a few have needed intensive care. For us all, the dangers are great.
As an anesthesiologist devoted to surgical emergencies, I haven’t had many direct dealings with coronavirus patients. But there was one. An elderly man in a fragile condition, he was set to have tumor removed. The surgery proceeded as normal: I put him to sleep, and he awoke four hours later, without pain.
That was in mid-February. A week later, the telltale symptoms began to show: a high fever, a cough. Before long, pneumonia. Now he’s in intensive care, intubated and in a critical condition. He is one of many who have become a number without a name, one of those that represent the worsening of the situation.
I hope the beginning of the end of this outbreak will be soon. But we will know that it’s coming only if and when the infections begin to decline.
The population’s calm response to the restrictive rules imposed by the government, the experience gained in the management of critically ill patients and the rumors of new treatments for the infection are grounds for hope. Perhaps the containment measures will work, and the news at the end of the week will be good.
But for now, we are in the thick of tragedy.

