All in a Night’s Work

Baldeep Singh, MD, with staff at Samaritan House

Nocturnist Rita Pandya, MD, cares for hospital patients overnight.

All in a Night’s Work

Nocturnist Rita Pandya, MD, cares for hospital patients overnight.

All in a Night’s Work

WHEN DOCTORS LEAVE THE HOSPITAL FOR THE DAY, ANOTHER TEAM OF DOCTORS—NOCTURNISTS—STEP IN.

They begin their shifts under cover of darkness, slipping through the hospital’s doors just as others are getting ready to head home. They do the work of several—often overseeing as many as 30 patients at a time. They’re specialists and generalists wrapped into one, able to shift identities in the blink of an eye. And you never quite know where they’ll turn up: at the bedside, assessing the condition of a heart transplant recipient; in the hallway, advising a resident on treatment plans; seated in the lobby, calming the family of a recently admitted patient.

They aren’t superheroes of the Marvel variety, though they sound like it. They’re nocturnists—shorthand for nocturnal hospitalists—a dedicated, experienced team of physicians who care for hospital inpatients overnight.

The rise of nocturnists is a fairly recent phenomenon, driven in part by the increasing popularity of the hospitalist field, limitations on physician and resident work hours, and a widespread push to improve patient safety. The nocturnist program, which began at Stanford Hospital 11 years ago, has grown exponentially, says Rita Pandya, MD, clinical assistant professor of medicine and the nocturnist group manager, and shows no signs of slowing down. “We currently cover nine services—hematology and oncology; gastroenterology, hepatology, and liver transplant; electrophysiology; pulmonary hypertension; cystic fibrosis; lung transplant; heart transplant; ventricular assistance device; and renal transplant—and we’re continuing to expand.”

“For these services, the nocturnists provide care for about 50% of the patient’s hospital stay,” explains Neera Ahuja, MD, clinical professor and division chief of hospital medicine. “This is not insignificant, and it is a responsibility that our nocturnists take very seriously.”

Each nocturnist shift, which lasts from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., begins the same way: with sign-out, a critically important information exchange that brings nocturnists up to speed on the health and care plans for patients they will be responsible for, and a chart review. Inpatient work and patient admissions follow.

The rest of the evening is more variable, and it’s this element of surprise that appeals to nocturnists like Vijay Prabhakar, MD, a clinical instructor of medicine who has been on the service since 2018. “During the night, we complete any tasks that the day teams have asked us to follow up on and respond to any nurse pages or changes in patient condition,” Prabhakar explains. “We also interact with many different providers—nurses, residents, fellows, physician assistants, nurse practitioners, and attendings.”

WHEN DOCTORS LEAVE THE HOSPITAL FOR THE DAY, ANOTHER TEAM OF DOCTORS—NOCTURNISTS—STEP IN.

They begin their shifts under cover of darkness, slipping through the hospital’s doors just as others are getting ready to head home. They do the work of several—often overseeing as many as 30 patients at a time. They’re specialists and generalists wrapped into one, able to shift identities in the blink of an eye. And you never quite know where they’ll turn up: at the bedside, assessing the condition of a heart transplant recipient; in the hallway, advising a resident on treatment plans; seated in the lobby, calming the family of a recently admitted patient.

They aren’t superheroes of the Marvel variety, though they sound like it. They’re nocturnists—shorthand for nocturnal hospitalists—a dedicated, experienced team of physicians who care for hospital inpatients overnight.

The rise of nocturnists is a fairly recent phenomenon, driven in part by the increasing popularity of the hospitalist field, limitations on physician and resident work hours, and a widespread push to improve patient safety. The nocturnist program, which began at Stanford Hospital 11 years ago, has grown exponentially, says Rita Pandya, MD, clinical assistant professor of medicine and the nocturnist group manager, and shows no signs of slowing down. “We currently cover nine services—hematology and oncology; gastroenterology, hepatology, and liver transplant; electrophysiology; pulmonary hypertension; cystic fibrosis; lung transplant; heart transplant; ventricular assistance device; and renal transplant—and we’re continuing to expand.”

“For these services, the nocturnists provide care for about 50% of the patient’s hospital stay,” explains Neera Ahuja, MD, clinical professor and division chief of hospital medicine. “This is not insignificant, and it is a responsibility that our nocturnists take very seriously.”

Each nocturnist shift, which lasts from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., begins the same way: with sign-out, a critically important information exchange that brings nocturnists up to speed on the health and care plans for patients they will be responsible for, and a chart review. Inpatient work and patient admissions follow.

The rest of the evening is more variable, and it’s this element of surprise that appeals to nocturnists like Vijay Prabhakar, MD, a clinical instructor of medicine who has been on the service since 2018. “During the night, we complete any tasks that the day teams have asked us to follow up on and respond to any nurse pages or changes in patient condition,” Prabhakar explains. “We also interact with many different providers—nurses, residents, fellows, physician assistants, nurse practitioners, and attendings.”

Pandya recalls previous shifts that were so fast-paced she “almost felt like an intern again.” She continues, “You’re never quite sure what will come your way. We cover a lot of different specialties so we’re always taking in lots of information. That’s one of the things that makes this work so exciting, though. You’re constantly learning new things.”

Yet there are opportunities for continuity and connection on the night shift, too. “We end up seeing a lot of the same patients, and you get to know them really well,” says Pandya. “We spend time talking to them and get to know more about them each time. Just this past week I was able to take one of my patients’ service dogs out for a walk.”

Prabhakar agrees, describing a memorable night when the nurses of the hematology and oncology unit of the main hospital invited him to a late-night potluck for a departing colleague. “Getting to meet some of the nurses face to face and enjoy the delicious food was definitely something I will not forget.”

Midnight comes and goes, and the nocturnists’ complex shift remains in full swing. “As the sole primary providers in-house for a large number of patients,” Prabhakar says, “you have to be able to astutely assess, diagnose, and treat deteriorating patients and help stabilize them by morning.” During a recent night, Pandya details, there was a resident who needed help with a procedure, an overnight discharge that required paperwork, and a hospice patient who passed away. This work, she explains, “requires an ability to be proactive and a wide knowledge base that helps individuals toggle between various pathologies quickly.”

By 7 a.m., the hospital has awakened in earnest. Sun streams through the lobby windows and physicians and nurses file in, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, to begin their first shift. Meanwhile, the nocturnists complete their charts and sign-offs, wrap up their work, and head home to recharge. But don’t worry—they’ll be back tonight.

Pandya recalls previous shifts that were so fast-paced she “almost felt like an intern again.” She continues, “You’re never quite sure what will come your way. We cover a lot of different specialties so we’re always taking in lots of information. That’s one of the things that makes this work so exciting, though. You’re constantly learning new things.”

Yet there are opportunities for continuity and connection on the night shift, too. “We end up seeing a lot of the same patients, and you get to know them really well,” says Pandya. “We spend time talking to them and get to know more about them each time. Just this past week I was able to take one of my patients’ service dogs out for a walk.”

Prabhakar agrees, describing a memorable night when the nurses of the hematology and oncology unit of the main hospital invited him to a late-night potluck for a departing colleague. “Getting to meet some of the nurses face to face and enjoy the delicious food was definitely something I will not forget.”

Midnight comes and goes, and the nocturnists’ complex shift remains in full swing. “As the sole primary providers in-house for a large number of patients,” Prabhakar says, “you have to be able to astutely assess, diagnose, and treat deteriorating patients and help stabilize them by morning.” During a recent night, Pandya details, there was a resident who needed help with a procedure, an overnight discharge that required paperwork, and a hospice patient who passed away. This work, she explains, “requires an ability to be proactive and a wide knowledge base that helps individuals toggle between various pathologies quickly.”

By 7 a.m., the hospital has awakened in earnest. Sun streams through the lobby windows and physicians and nurses file in, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, to begin their first shift. Meanwhile, the nocturnists complete their charts and sign-offs, wrap up their work, and head home to recharge. But don’t worry—they’ll be back tonight.

Off Hours

Baldeep Singh, MD, with staff at Samaritan House

In their off hours, Stanford staff have a variety of exciting hobbies.

Off Hours

In their off hours, Stanford staff have a variety of exciting hobbies.

Off Hours

EACH TUESDAY AT NOON, HEIDI ELMORE MAKES HER WAY ACROSS CAMPUS TO STANFORD HOSPITAL, WHERE SHE SPENDS THE NEXT HOUR TEACHING PATIENTS AND THEIR CAREGIVERS HOW TO KNIT AND CROCHET. AN EXPERIENCED FIBER ARTIST, ELMORE BELONGS TO A COMMUNITY OF STAFF MEMBERS WHOSE EXTRACURRICULAR EXPLOITS AND PASSIONS INFORM—AND ENHANCE—THEIR IDENTITIES ON AND OFF-CAMPUS.

A Single Thread

Heidi Elmore’s daydreams look a bit different from others’. While some imagine the next vacation they’ll take, Elmore’s mind turns to stitch combinations, elaborate patterns, and color variations for the latest needlepoint project she’s working on—a tapestry of vintage Nintendo characters for her son and his wife.

Elmore’s hands—and mind—are always busy. She’ll meet with a volunteer group to crochet or knit during her lunch break, and will spend evenings poring over YouTube tutorials or attending training classes. “I’m always working on something,” she explains. “I make lace, crochet, knit, weave, and spin yarn.”

Heidi Elmore (center), demonstrates knitting techniques to patients and caregivers.

Elmore, an administrative associate and cancer center lead worker in oncology, first discovered her talent for fiber arts after her grandmother died. “I found her lace-making materials after she passed. I figured I’d try her hobby, and it stuck.” She still remembers the first project she made with her grandmother’s supplies, a queen-sized bed spread that was “simple, but took a long time.”

Over the years, Elmore has refined her craft and produced countless one-of-a-kind wares. Her portfolio now includes a mask, crocheted Edwardian gloves, and a leather belt she collaborated on with a friend. But one of the most meaningful things Elmore has worked on is Stanford Hospital’s Warm Wishes Survivorship Quilt—an offshoot of the Palliative Care Knitting and Crocheting with Friends program, which meets weekly to teach patients, caregivers, and others how to knit and crochet. The idea behind the quilt, which is still in progress, is to “let patients and staff members stop by to create a square of the quilt and write a warm wish on the small tag,” Elmore explains. “Lauren Briskin, a volunteer, collects the squares and I join every Tuesday to help. We see a steady stream of individuals who want to stop in and learn. We’ve built a great network.”

Elmore often finds that her off-hours hobby informs her work on campus. Whether in her living room moving fabric through her nimble fingers or at her desk managing travel schedules and calendar appointments and processing financial information, she is drawing on the same skill set: patience, attention to detail, and resilience.

“I like taking a single thread, combining it with other things, and making an entirely different product,” she reflects. “That is also a lot like life—whether you’re at work or at home. We take all the little pieces and stitch them together to make something new and wonderful.”

Pitch Perfect

In the California Bach Society rehearsal room, a chord is slowly forming. Thirty voices—a mix of altos, sopranos, tenors, and basses—join together, rising and swelling in response to the conductor’s cues. Everything is unified: They breathe together, pause together, gather volume and fade together.

The result is ethereal and harmonious, a moment “where the total is much more than the sum of its parts,” explains Margaret Wootton, a faculty affairs specialist in the division of oncology who has been singing with the Bach Society, which specializes in Renaissance and baroque music, for over 25 years.

Margaret Wootton (center) sings with the California Bach Society.

Growing up, Wootton, an alto, sang all the time. But her most formative musical experiences were in her family’s church choir, which she joined at age 8. It was then that singing “became a part of my everyday life,” Wootton says. Today, she spends up to six hours a week practicing or performing for her local church and the Bach Society. “The choir community is wonderful, and the mood lift that you get from it is addicting. Plus, I get to sing beautiful music! It’s a privilege for me to do that.”

Wootton lends her voice and her professional skills to the choirs she performs in. She sat on the Bach Society’s board for six years and currently leads its marketing and public relations. “In addition to singing, I’m writing press releases, placing ads, and developing co-marketing campaigns with other local groups.”

These offstage efforts often mirror her work environment in oncology, where she manages the appointments and promotions of roughly 50 faculty members. “I have the opportunity to explore lots of different things. Even if you don’t know how to do it, you have the space to figure it out and determine where the resources are and where to go next.” In a choir and at Stanford, she continues, “It’s a team sport, and each person’s contribution matters.”

Big Cat Advocate

The Santa Cruz Mountains extend from the city of San Francisco to just north of Monterey Bay. The range contains lagoons and marshes, peaks that rise up to 3,806 feet, forests of redwoods, and densely vegetated canyons. It’s an area of unique biodiversity and is particularly well suited to support populations of pumas—more commonly known as mountain lions.

It’s here that Summer Vance, life science research professional for hematology, volunteers with the UC Santa Cruz Puma Project, an 11-year-old endeavor to track and understand the ways that habitat fragmentation influences the physiology and behavior of pumas.

Summer Vance volunteers with the Puma Project.

Animals were always a part of Vance’s childhood. “I had lots of pets growing up and was definitely the little girl who dreamed of being a veterinarian,” she recalls. In high school she discovered a joint love of biology and research. But it took her a while to connect her two passions. A job as a wildlife ranger in Yosemite National Park on the black bear management team opened up a world of possibility. “Discovering the field of wildlife biology was a total enlightenment for me,” she recalls.

Vance spends her weekdays in the Bhatt laboratory, toggling between independent research projects, assisting lab members, and performing general lab housekeeping tasks. On weekends she performs fieldwork for the Puma Project. “Most of the work is setting camera traps, collecting GPS data from remote systems, and performing captures to collar and get samples from pumas,” she explains. “What’s great is that mountain lions are way less prone to habituation than bears in Yosemite. Where in Yosemite we had to monitor bears very closely and mitigate human-bear interactions, pumas keep to themselves, so the team is able to focus on wildlife research rather than wildlife management.”

She’s also found time to foster four house cats that she rescued from a feline infectious peritonitis research lab. “Three years post-adoption, all the cats are doing great,” she reports, although she has encountered some unusual challenges. “With research cats, it’s never guaranteed that they’ll be completely healthy or normal, and it did take them a long time to adjust to non-lab life. For instance, they had never seen hair because all the researchers wore hair nets; they had never met a dog; they didn’t know what sunshine felt like; they had never been outside their colony housing except to be examined by a vet. It has been really exciting and rewarding to see them transform into (relatively) normal cats over the past three years.”

If there is one word that unites Vance’s varied pursuits and interests, it would be perseverance. “Perseverance is huge in any field, and especially sciences. When working with wildlife you may have to wait days or weeks to collect any meaningful data, because the animals don’t function on your schedule. In the lab, even though you can plan your experiments, you can’t control the outcomes, and a huge portion of research is failing, trying to understand what failed, and trying again.”

Giving Back

For the past seven years, Jeanne Simonian has ushered in the beginning of school in the same way: with a shopping spree. But instead of clothing to suit the new season and update her wardrobe, Simonian stockpiles items like pencils, pens, notebooks, anti-bacterial hand soap, coffee gift cards, and technical equipment. That’s because Simonian and her family are a dedicated Adopt-a-Teacher family with the Ravenswood Education Foundation, which was founded 12 years ago to reduce inequity in East Palo Alto schools. “We are making a difference in one teacher’s life and positively impacting the lives of students,” Simonian explains. “And we have been lucky enough to support the same the same second grade teacher, Maria Lucia Perez Murillo, for almost a decade.”

Jeanne Simonian (right) with second grade teacher Maria Lucia Perez Murillo.

Simonian and her family provide holistic assistance throughout the year, touching base with Maria at regular intervals to see what she needs. This help can take many forms: Simonian and her family have purchased fans for overheated rooms, helped organize classroom parties, cleaned and organized supply closets, and even asked their friends for donations to the foundation in lieu of birthday gifts when their children were younger. “We try to make Maria’s life as a teacher a bit less stressful,” says Simonian. “I work behind the scenes to assist in small ways to alleviate the challenges of an educator who is teaching underserved students.”

She employs this same behind the scenes strategy in her role as a fellowship program coordinator in hematology and oncology, where she provides administrative and operational support for residents and clinical fellows. Her job is to ensure a superior fellowship program that adheres to the standards of professional medical organizations, with the goal of sending “competent hematologists and oncologists out into the community and world at large.”

Body of Work

The key to doing well in a bodybuilding competition is not brute strength, but consistent effort. You have to lace your shoes, pack your gym bag before work, and show up to perform your circuit: a rigorous training program that rotates among different body parts (arms on Monday, chest on Tuesday, legs on Wednesday, and so on) every day. You have to say “no” to margaritas, nights out with friends, and your own exhaustion and fear, and “yes” to grueling routines, regular progress checks, and strict diets composed primarily of chicken and broccoli.

Brenda Norrie in the weight room.

This is how Brenda Norrie, fellowship coordinator for infectious diseases, wins awards, and how she mustered the confidence to appear on four bodybuilding stages since she began training in 2013.

Norrie has always been active. She was a casual runner for most of her life, and her parents, both runners, met at a track club. After years of trail running, she started looking for another athletic outlet. She found it in the weight room. “At first,” she explains, “I spent time in the gym when it wasn’t crowded, because it can be intimidating. I took the time and learned how to perform and execute maneuvers and lifts.” Results quickly followed. “I felt really empowered by my improvements and would push myself to see if I could lift even heavier weights each week. In 2014, I began my first bodybuilding competition preparation.”

She took to competition immediately. “I got this huge rush on stage, remembering how much effort I put in and then watching it all come together.” She also felt embraced by—and at home in—the community. “We’re all backstage, together, and we’ve been adhering to such a strict schedule, calculating our protein targets and adjusting our carbs and fat, lifting to create muscle maturity. It felt very emotional.”

Norrie approaches her work at Stanford with the same sense of commitment and discipline. As a fellowship coordinator, she oversees the entire training life cycle for 11 infectious disease fellows, from recruitment to orientation to onboarding and finally, graduation. “Bodybuilding,” she explains, “has instilled work ethic and patience, and has taught me that if I want to achieve something, I just need to feel the fear and do it anyway.”

Walk with Me: Early Clinical Experiences for Medical Students

Baldeep Singh, MD, with staff at Samaritan House

Current Walk with Me partners: patient VANESSA DEEN JOHNSON (left) and medical student CLAIRE RHEE.

Walk with Me: Early Clinical Experiences for Medical Students

Current Walk with Me partners: patient VANESSA DEEN JOHNSON (left) and medical student CLAIRE RHEE.

Walk with Me: Early Clinical Experiences for Medical Students

Motivated to integrate the science and art of medicine, incoming medical students at most institutions arrive on campus anticipating opportunities to engage with real patients and their families — at some point in the future. Medical students at Stanford, on the other hand, have an unusual opportunity to interact with patients in their very first month, even as they pursue the critical study of the basic sciences in their first two years.

The Walk with Me class, one offering of Stanford’s Patient and Family Engaged Medical Education program, is a student-patient-caregiver partnership experience that offers early, authentic engagement with patients and their families.

Students in the Walk with Me class are the beneficiaries of a key outcome of the Transforming Medical Education Initiative, according to Erika Schillinger, MD, professor of medicine and vice chief for education in the division of primary care and population health. That key outcome suggested that authentic early experiences with patients would put patients and their caregivers center stage from the very start of medical education, establishing the patient’s perspective and experience of health and the health care system as vitally important to being excellent clinicians.

The first practical step in putting early patient experiences in place was to create a curriculum in health systems science and deliver it monthly with didactic workshops, patient perspectives and practical skills building.

According to Schillinger, “Health system science has become the essential third pillar of medical education, along with basic science and clinical science. It means everything that anticipates, surrounds, and forms the context for health care.”

The course was designed to “prepare students for a 21st-century health system in which they will be leading health care,” says Schillinger. Specifically, she continues, “we asked the patient-student pairs to meet a minimum of one hour per month to explore the patient’s and caregiver’s experiences of the health care system, focusing on the topic of the month with the goal of providing rigor and structure and accountability to their partnership. The result has been a magical, game-changing experience that puts patients and families front and center in medical education from the very beginning.”

Three students who enrolled in the course share their experiences.

Crocheting Together
Marija Kamceva switched her major at Yale from English to premed following a biology class she took as a junior. Once she got to Stanford and learned about the Walk with Me class, she jumped at the chance to take part because “it seemed like a really good opportunity to understand the role I was about to play either as a primary care physician or a psychiatrist. I thought it would contextualize the rest of my education.”

When she learned her patient’s name, she says, “I called her, and we met for coffee the first time near Stanford. We bonded really well.” Meeting her patient two or three times a month, Kamceva found that they shared many of the same interests, and they even learned to crochet together. “My patient’s story was long and interesting,” she says, “and this was the first time she had the opportunity to really tell it because it’s hard with something so personal to even talk with your friends about it. I feel like I will always have her story with me as I go on and work with patients.”

ERIKA SCHILLINGER, MD (center right), discusses Walk with Me class topics with (from left) medical students ISSAC JACKSONMARIJA KAMCEVA, and SANDRENE CASSELLS.

Motivated to integrate the science and art of medicine, incoming medical students at most institutions arrive on campus anticipating opportunities to engage with real patients and their families — at some point in the future. Medical students at Stanford, on the other hand, have an unusual opportunity to interact with patients in their very first month, even as they pursue the critical study of the basic sciences in their first two years.

The Walk with Me class, one offering of Stanford’s Patient and Family Engaged Medical Education program, is a student-patient-caregiver partnership experience that offers early, authentic engagement with patients and their families.

Students in the Walk with Me class are the beneficiaries of a key outcome of the Transforming Medical Education Initiative, according to Erika Schillinger, MD, professor of medicine and vice chief for education in the division of primary care and population health. That key outcome suggested that authentic early experiences with patients would put patients and their caregivers center stage from the very start of medical education, establishing the patient’s perspective and experience of health and the health care system as vitally important to being excellent clinicians.

Current Walk with Me partners: patient VANESSA DEEN JOHNSON (left) and medical student CLAIRE RHEE.

The first practical step in putting early patient experiences in place was to create a curriculum in health systems science and deliver it monthly with didactic workshops, patient perspectives and practical skills building. According to Schillinger, “Health system science has become the essential third pillar of medical education, along with basic science and clinical science. It means everything that anticipates, surrounds, and forms the context for health care.”

The course was designed to “prepare students for a 21st-century health system in which they will be leading health care,” says Schillinger. Specifically, she continues, “we asked the patient-student pairs to meet a minimum of one hour per month to explore the patient’s and caregiver’s experiences of the health care system, focusing on the topic of the month with the goal of providing rigor and structure and accountability to their partnership. The result has been a magical, game-changing experience that puts patients and families front and center in medical education from the very beginning.”

Three students who enrolled in the course share their experiences.

Crocheting Together
Marija Kamceva switched her major at Yale from English to premed following a biology class she took as a junior. Once she got to Stanford and learned about the Walk with Me class, she jumped at the chance to take part because “it seemed like a really good opportunity to understand the role I was about to play either as a primary care physician or a psychiatrist. I thought it would contextualize the rest of my education.”

When she learned her patient’s name, she says, “I called her, and we met for coffee the first time near Stanford. We bonded really well.” Meeting her patient two or three times a month, Kamceva found that they shared many of the same interests, and they even learned to crochet together. “My patient’s story was long and interesting,” she says, “and this was the first time she had the opportunity to really tell it because it’s hard with something so personal to even talk with your friends about it. I feel like I will always have her story with me as I go on and work with patients.”

ERIKA SCHILLINGER, MD (center right), discusses Walk with Me class topics with (from left) medical students ISSAC JACKSONMARIJA KAMCEVA, and SANDRENE CASSELLS.

ERIKA SCHILLINGER, MD (right), meets with first-year medical studnets in a class about patient-physician relationships

A Mind-Boggling Medical History
Isaac Jackson, an MD/PhD student, plans to be a pediatric oncologist or maybe an obstetrician and gynecologist; he is drawn to research. Early on he wondered what steps he could take “to become a good doctor and a good care provider. I felt that building relationships, getting to know patients, and starting to understand what patients go through, was a very important part of that process.” Given the specialties he is interested in, he says, “I realized that I was going to be dealing with difficult situations I don’t know the first thing about. How do I learn to be empathetic and understanding about something I have no firsthand knowledge about?”

Then he enrolled in Walk with Me. He emailed his patient to get to know her and was invited to an upcoming doctor appointment. To bring him up to speed, his patient partner sent him a summary of her previous appointments and medical history. He found it “mind boggling. It’s easy to read words on this nice crisp page, but then I’m thinking about what that really represents: dozens of rounds of treatment, multiple hospitalizations, four near-death experiences over a few years.”

After several visits with his patient, Jackson could see what he was getting out of the relationship, but he wondered about his patient partner: “What could I offer, as a medical student who just parachuted in years after the start of someone else’s medical journey?” He later learned his patient partner had similar thoughts. “Being so sick for so long became a more and more integral part of her identity. There was family and a significant other, but then there was the sickness. In a way, the relationship we formed illustrated her potential to still form meaningful emotional connections despite such serious illness.”

Pancake Breakfasts
Sandrene Cassells came to medical school after several years teaching high school, where she was used to “being part of the day-to-day experiences of my students, being able to see their academic growth and their personal growth.” Thinking about the first two years of medical school made her realize she “didn’t like not tracking closely with patients until my third year. I was looking for something that would allow me to develop a close relationship with a patient early in my medical school career.”

Then she got involved in Walk with Me. Partnered with a patient undergoing treatment for cancer and sick from chemotherapy, Cassells drove to the patient’s home the first time they met, and they talked and had tea. After that they set up breakfast dates. “We met at a halfway point and we always got pancakes.”

During their year together, Cassells’ patient partner worried about what it would mean when she came to the end of her treatment. At Cassells’ suggestion, “we went together to a nutritionist and explored things she could do in hopes of preventing the cancer from coming back. I felt like I could advocate for her in that situation because we had had all those interactions around food.” In summary, says Cassells, “My entire world has changed from knowing her.”

ERIKA SCHILLINGER, MD (right), meets with first-year medical studnets in a class about patient-physician relationships

A Mind-Boggling Medical History
Isaac Jackson, an MD/PhD student, plans to be a pediatric oncologist or maybe an obstetrician and gynecologist; he is drawn to research. Early on he wondered what steps he could take “to become a good doctor and a good care provider. I felt that building relationships, getting to know patients, and starting to understand what patients go through, was a very important part of that process.” Given the specialties he is interested in, he says, “I realized that I was going to be dealing with difficult situations I don’t know the first thing about. How do I learn to be empathetic and understanding about something I have no firsthand knowledge about?”

Then he enrolled in Walk with Me. He emailed his patient to get to know her and was invited to an upcoming doctor appointment. To bring him up to speed, his patient partner sent him a summary of her previous appointments and medical history. He found it “mind boggling. It’s easy to read words on this nice crisp page, but then I’m thinking about what that really represents: dozens of rounds of treatment, multiple hospitalizations, four near-death experiences over a few years.”

After several visits with his patient, Jackson could see what he was getting out of the relationship, but he wondered about his patient partner: “What could I offer, as a medical student who just parachuted in years after the start of someone else’s medical journey?” He later learned his patient partner had similar thoughts. “Being so sick for so long became a more and more integral part of her identity. There was family and a significant other, but then there was the sickness. In a way, the relationship we formed illustrated her potential to still form meaningful emotional connections despite such serious illness.”

Pancake Breakfasts
Sandrene Cassells came to medical school after several years teaching high school, where she was used to “being part of the day-to-day experiences of my students, being able to see their academic growth and their personal growth.” Thinking about the first two years of medical school made her realize she “didn’t like not tracking closely with patients until my third year. I was looking for something that would allow me to develop a close relationship with a patient early in my medical school career.”

Then she got involved in Walk with Me. Partnered with a patient undergoing treatment for cancer and sick from chemotherapy, Cassells drove to the patient’s home the first time they met, and they talked and had tea. After that they set up breakfast dates. “We met at a halfway point and we always got pancakes.”

During their year together, Cassells’ patient partner worried about what it would mean when she came to the end of her treatment. At Cassells’ suggestion, “we went together to a nutritionist and explored things she could do in hopes of preventing the cancer from coming back. I felt like I could advocate for her in that situation because we had had all those interactions around food.” In summary, says Cassells, “My entire world has changed from knowing her.”

Delivering Care by Taking a Step Back

Baldeep Singh, MD, with staff at Samaritan House

Lay health worker GEE ZHU (center) and MANALI PATEL, MD (right) meet with patient DONALD FREDERICK

Delivering Care by Taking a Step Back

Lay health worker GEE ZHU (center) and MANALI PATEL, MD (right) meet with patient DONALD FREDERICK

Delivering Care by Taking a Step Back

Can someone with no medical training improve the quality of life for a terminally ill cancer patient? And will that have any impact on health care costs?

That’s what Manali Patel, MD, an assistant professor of oncology, wanted to find out.

During her undergraduate and medical school studies Patel spent time in rural areas overseas where medical technology is scarce, and she noticed how community members without formal medical skills can be effective health workers.

She wondered if it were possible to counteract the U.S. tendency to over-depend on technology by using lay health workers (nonclinical, nonprofessional personnel with no prior experience in the medical field who are trained in specific skills to help deliver various services, including end-of-life care).

That led her to design a randomized clinical trial of 213 patients with late-stage or recurrent cancer at Palo Alto Veterans Affairs.

The primary objective was to see if lay health worker intervention encouraged patients to discuss their personal goals of care with their medical professionals.

Patel split the patients into two groups. While both groups received the standard of care for their disease, one group (the intervention arm) was also paired with lay health workers who were trained to assist patients with establishing end-of-life care preferences.

Patients in the intervention arm could talk about their worries and concerns with their assigned lay health worker on a regular basis and especially during “trigger points” (for example, after receiving results from a medical exam or imaging test that might cause unease). The workers also encouraged their patients to share with their medical professional or team what they were discussing with the worker.

Patel’s study, “Effect of a Lay Health Worker Intervention on Goals-of-Care Documentation and on Health Care Use, Costs, and Satisfaction Among Patients With Cancer,” was published in the July 26, 2018 issue of JAMA Oncology.

The study’s results exceeded Patel’s expectations. More than 90 percent of the patients who were assigned a lay health worker had the types of discussions described above, while less than 25 percent of the patients without lay health workers had them. The discussions also made patients feel more satisfied with their medical decision making and oncology care.

Can someone with no medical training improve the quality of life for a terminally ill cancer patient? And will that have any impact on health care costs?

That’s what Manali Patel, MD, an assistant professor of oncology, wanted to find out.

During her undergraduate and medical school studies Patel spent time in rural areas overseas where medical technology is scarce, and she noticed how community members without formal medical skills can be effective health workers.

She wondered if it were possible to counteract the U.S. tendency to over-depend on technology by using lay health workers (nonclinical, nonprofessional personnel with no prior experience in the medical field who are trained in specific skills to help deliver various services, including end-of-life care).

That led her to design a randomized clinical trial of 213 patients with late-stage or recurrent cancer at Palo Alto Veterans Affairs.

The primary objective was to see if lay health worker intervention encouraged patients to discuss their personal goals of care with their medical professionals.

Patel split the patients into two groups. While both groups received the standard of care for their disease, one group (the intervention arm) was also paired with lay health workers who were trained to assist patients with establishing end-of-life care preferences.

Patients in the intervention arm could talk about their worries and concerns with their assigned lay health worker on a regular basis and especially during “trigger points” (for example, after receiving results from a medical exam or imaging test that might cause unease). The workers also encouraged their patients to share with their medical professional or team what they were discussing with the worker.

Patel’s study, “Effect of a Lay Health Worker Intervention on Goals-of-Care Documentation and on Health Care Use, Costs, and Satisfaction Among Patients With Cancer,” was published in the July 26, 2018 issue of JAMA Oncology.

The study’s results exceeded Patel’s expectations. More than 90 percent of the patients who were assigned a lay health worker had the types of discussions described above, while less than 25 percent of the patients without lay health workers had them. The discussions also made patients feel more satisfied with their medical decision making and oncology care.

A startling result of the study was how the lay health worker involvement affected health care costs and use.

“In the last month of life we saw a 95 percent reduction in patients’ health care spending, which was largely because patients did not use the emergency department or the hospital,” Patel notes.

The drop in spending is consistent with patients feeling more empowered to decline those interventions after clarifying their wishes with their lay health worker.

“In my own practice I can get tunnel vision and focus solely on wanting to eradicate or decrease the size of the cancer in hopes that I can make my patients experience less suffering. But sometimes the treatments may make the patient feel worse, and I need a reminder from the patient that the therapies themselves may not necessarily be achieving the gain,” Patel admits.

“The big takeaway from this study is that lay health workers can serve as support for patients to formulate their care preferences and feel encouraged to openly communicate with physicians like myself. Especially when our focus may narrow, our patients allow us to take a step back and think about the big picture,” she adds.

A startling result of the study was how the lay health worker involvement affected health care costs and use.

“In the last month of life we saw a 95 percent reduction in patients’ health care spending, which was largely because patients did not use the emergency department or the hospital,” Patel notes.

The drop in spending is consistent with patients feeling more empowered to decline those interventions after clarifying their wishes with their lay health worker.

“In my own practice I can get tunnel vision and focus solely on wanting to eradicate or decrease the size of the cancer in hopes that I can make my patients experience less suffering. But sometimes the treatments may make the patient feel worse, and I need a reminder from the patient that the therapies themselves may not necessarily be achieving the gain,” Patel admits.

“The big takeaway from this study is that lay health workers can serve as support for patients to formulate their care preferences and feel encouraged to openly communicate with physicians like myself. Especially when our focus may narrow, our patients allow us to take a step back and think about the big picture,” she adds.

Putting Bioethics into Practice

Baldeep Singh, MD, with staff at Samaritan House

Putting Bioethics into Practice

Putting Bioethics into Practice

Bioethics is a rapidly evolving, more-relevant-every-day kind of field. And for Kate Luenprakansit, MD, clinical assistant professor of hospital medicine and clinical bioethicist, it has become a major part of her life’s work.

Luenprakansit’s interest in ethics was sparked when she studied molecular cell developmental biology as an undergraduate at UCLA. “I always felt there was something more to becoming a physician than just knowing the biology, the physiology, the math, and the science. There was even more fundamental knowledge I needed to gain in order to be the best physician I could be,” she says.

Her first ethics course during a study abroad program in medical practice and policy in Denmark provided the framework for her higher calling. 

Questions started to materialize for her about autonomy, beneficence, non-maleficence, and justice and how they play into the doctor-patient relationship. “How do I actually strive to uphold those ideals and principles in medicine?” she asked herself. That first ethics course became the “compass” for her career.

When Luenprakansit started at Stanford as part of the surgical co-management hospitalist group, she brought her interest in ethics with her.

Her leaders were Mark Cullen, MD, director of the Center for Population Health Sciences and professor of primary care and population health, and Neera Ahuja, MD, clinical associate professor and division chief of hospital medicine. 

They encouraged and supported her ethics work. David Magnus, PhD, professor of medicine and biomedical ethics, and director of the Stanford Center for Biomedical Ethics, helped deepen her understanding of ethics and philosophy. In 2016 she was a summer fellow at the University of Chicago’s MacLean Center for Clinical Medical Ethics, and she’s been a clinical ethicist and consultant at Stanford ever since.

Luenprakansit’s work varies on a day-to-day basis. She fulfills her clinical duties as a hospitalist; conducts research; teaches students, residents, and fellows; and co-teaches two ethics courses — all on top of her ethics consulting work. This past year, she was also one of the ACES (Advancing Communication Excellence at Stanford) facilitators.

Bioethics is a rapidly evolving, more-relevant-every-day kind of field. And for Kate Luenprakansit, MD, clinical assistant professor of hospital medicine and clinical bioethicist, it has become a major part of her life’s work.

Luenprakansit’s interest in ethics was sparked when she studied molecular cell developmental biology as an undergraduate at UCLA. “I always felt there was something more to becoming a physician than just knowing the biology, the physiology, the math, and the science. There was even more fundamental knowledge I needed to gain in order to be the best physician I could be,” she says.

Her first ethics course during a study abroad program in medical practice and policy in Denmark provided the framework for her higher calling. Questions started to materialize for her about autonomy, beneficence, non-maleficence, and justice and how they play into the doctor-patient relationship. “How do I actually strive to uphold those ideals and principles in medicine?” she asked herself. That first ethics course became the “compass” for her career.

When Luenprakansit started at Stanford as part of the surgical co-management hospitalist group, she brought her interest in ethics with her. “I needed a way to figure out how I could effect change on a larger level,” she explains, “and I think Stanford is a phenomenal institution for that work.”

Her leaders were Mark Cullen, MD, director of the Center for Population Health Sciences and professor of primary care and population health, and Neera Ahuja, MD, clinical associate professor and division chief of hospital medicine. They encouraged and supported her ethics work. David Magnus, PhD, professor of medicine and biomedical ethics, and director of the Stanford Center for Biomedical Ethics, helped deepen her understanding of ethics and philosophy. In 2016 she was a summer fellow at the University of Chicago’s MacLean Center for Clinical Medical Ethics, and she’s been a clinical ethicist and consultant at Stanford ever since.

Luenprakansit’s work varies on a day-to-day basis. She fulfills her clinical duties as a hospitalist; conducts research; teaches students, residents, and fellows; and co-teaches two ethics courses — all on top of her ethics consulting work. This past year, she was also one of the ACES (Advancing Communication Excellence at Stanford) facilitators.

I always felt there was something more to becoming a physician than just knowing the biology, the physiology, the math, and the science

Luenprakansit was formally trained in mediation and conflict resolution, both at Stanford and during her summer in Chicago. She now takes part in clinical ethics consults at Stanford Hospital. She helps patients, doctors and families “reconcile the many ethical concerns and dilemmas that arise in a patient care setting.”

Often this means sitting in a room with physicians and patients, trying to work out an “optimal” solution. “Conflict often arises because of a misunderstanding,” she says. “And how we are all communicating with one another can lead to the misalignment of goals and expectations.”

“We strive to elicit each party’s perspective so that we can achieve some level of mutual understanding,” she says.

Mutual understanding is important, but the next step, consensus, may be harder to achieve. Ethics consultants help facilitate a plan and a resolution. “Decisions still need to be made,” Luenprakansit states. “At the end of this, there’s a patient at the center of all of these discussions.”

One of only a few physician ethicists at Stanford, her ultimate goal is to make ethics a part of the larger medical conversation. She wants to engage people, starting as early as medical school, to discuss “the practicality of understanding ethics, and how that affects our decision making: the what, why, and how of medical decision making as clinicians.” She concludes,  “Through my practice, I have come to appreciate how fundamental ethics is in my role as a physician.”

I always felt there was something more to becoming a physician than just knowing the biology, the physiology, the math, and the science

Luenprakansit was formally trained in mediation and conflict resolution, both at Stanford and during her summer in Chicago. She now takes part in clinical ethics consults at Stanford Hospital. She helps patients, doctors and families “reconcile the many ethical concerns and dilemmas that arise in a patient care setting.”

Often this means sitting in a room with physicians and patients, trying to work out an “optimal” solution. “Conflict often arises because of a misunderstanding,” she says. “And how we are all communicating with one another can lead to the misalignment of goals and expectations.”

“We strive to elicit each party’s perspective so that we can achieve some level of mutual understanding,” she says.

Mutual understanding is important, but the next step, consensus, may be harder to achieve. Ethics consultants help facilitate a plan and a resolution. “Decisions still need to be made,” Luenprakansit states. “At the end of this, there’s a patient at the center of all of these discussions.”

One of only a few physician ethicists at Stanford, her ultimate goal is to make ethics a part of the larger medical conversation. She wants to engage people, starting as early as medical school, to discuss “the practicality of understanding ethics, and how that affects our decision making: the what, why, and how of medical decision making as clinicians.” She concludes,  “Through my practice, I have come to appreciate how fundamental ethics is in my role as a physician.”