Life as an Extreme Sport

No, American Doctors, You Don’t Need Tyvek In Case of Ebola

One of the more interesting aspects of the constant media coverage of the latest Ebola outbreak has been watching how developed nations like the United States, Britain, and Canada assume that the entire world is Just Like Them. The Seattle Times had a charming example of this yesterday, with American doctors questioning the CDC guidelines for how to care for an Ebola patient in America. An example of the ignorance on display comes from Tulsa, Oklahoma emergency physician Justin Fairless, who says that health care workers in West African nations

are wearing the highest level of protection, but the CDC recommendation lets us go down to the lowest level of protection.

Now, the CDC has repeatedly said that caring for patients in African nations is quite different than caring for patients in America, Canada, other developed nations, but apparently Dr. Fairless and others need a pictorial show-and-tell to understand that not everyone lives and works in a state-of-the-art world.

But first, a bit of description to set the stage for the pictures you are about to see. (Note: There are no sick or dead bodies in the following photographs.) This is from a Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting report on maternal/fetal care in Guinea, published in February of 2014, before the international community was aware of the Ebola outbreak:

“The biggest problems at Donka are no electricity, no water, no equipment, no sanitation and very high rates of infection,” said Bintu Cisse, adjunct midwife supervisor, who has worked at Donka National Hospital for 20 years … External support provides some operational assistance, but Donka lacks basic facilities due to the inefficiency of Guinea’s under-performing infrastructure … Inside the maternity ward operating room, Cisse pointed out that the equipment did not work and doctors used suspended basins of water and a mixture of chlorine to sanitize. The main light sources were open windows””outside garbage was burning.

Cisse is describing the largest medical center in Guniea, Donka Hospital, which is also the university teaching hospital for the country.

This is what their isolation unit looks like:

Donka Hospital Isolation Tents. Cellou Binani/AFP/Getty Images.
Donka Hospital Isolation Tents. Cellou Binani/AFP/Getty Images.

Those are tents. Here’s what those tents look like on the inside:
DonkaIsolationWard-Open

When patients are inside, they are lined up on cots, one after another. There is nothing separating the patients from anyone, or anything. There is no airflow system—isolation wards in regions where Ebola is active tend to work by setting up large barriers to prevent people from getting close enough to worry about contagion; this could be large plastic sheeting, it could be fences that indicate the line at which people should not pass.

This is what an isolation unit looks like at your average, developed world, fully-equipped hospital:

Isolation room at Wellington Hospital, New Zealand.
Isolation room at Wellington Hospital, New Zealand.

So, as you can see, Dr. Fairless, and others, things are just a little bit different in countries where the GDP is more than USD 6 billion a year.

A MSF worker suits up to care for Ebola patients.
A MSF worker suits up to care for Ebola patients.
The major difference in treatment, aside from already-discussed issues, is who is in isolation. More specifically, in places like Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone, while patients are isolated from other people in order to curtail infection, the health care workers are the ones “in isolation”—they’re the ones who are kitted up in bunny suits, in full Tyvek, layers of gloves, and the whole nine yards. Because: see above. The effort here is to keep the HCW in a protective environment to limit transmission to the worker, because it’s impossible to keep the patients inside a protective environment, due to the economy, the lack of infrastructure, the lack of ability because there’s no technology, there’s no power.

Isolation units in America and other developed countries, on the other hand, function to keep the patient inside isolation; patients are isolated from others to curtail infection, and that includes being “in isolation”: that is, the protective bubble that bunny suits and Tyvek create for HCWs in Guinea, etc, is extended around the patient in the form of negative air pressure rooms and glass walls.

In that sort of environment, the basics of gloves, gown, and mask are more than sufficient to care for a patient with Ebola—or any other highly infective agent. Which is why that’s what the CDC recommendations are; because technology and care levels are different, and the basic approach to isolating and isolation can change.

It’s also worth remembering that bunny suits and Tyvek weren’t always around when people were fighting Ebola. Here’s what Peter Piot was wearing in 1976, when Ebola was first recognized:

Peter Piot wearing protective gear in Yambuku, 1976.
Peter Piot wearing protective gear in Yambuku, 1976.

That’s how the outbreak was stopped in 1976. In conditions that in many ways were worse than in the pictures shown above.

The doctors and other health care workers in that Seattle Times piece should be ashamed of themselves, demanding bunny suits and Tyvek and full protective gear when not only is it unnecessary, it’s a waste of money. But more than that, and even more than the myopic view of the world that appears to assume everywhere is just like their tidy and neat and well-staffed and well-maintained medical center, it illustrates the continued “me me me” reaction people in the developed world have around Ebola.

…after all, you don’t hear anyone suggesting that full isolation suites be sent to Guinea, or Sierra Leone, or Liberia, so that those countries can revert to the simpler CDC recommendations, do you?

Paternalism, Procedure, Precedent: The Ethics of Using Unproven Therapies in an Ebola Outbreak

The WHO medical ethics panel convened Monday to discuss the ethics of using experimental treatments for Ebola in West African nations affected by the disease. I am relieved to note that this morning they released their unanimous recommendation: “it is ethical to offer unproven interventions with as yet unknown efficacy and adverse effects, as potential treatment or prevention.” WHOsOnFirstThere are, of course, the common caveats about ethical criteria guiding the interventions, but ultimately the recommendation has saved me from a tortured “WHO’s on first”-style commentary.1 I’m sure we all appreciate that.

But just because the WHO recommendation follows what I’ve been arguing for the last 10-odd days doesn’t mean that the argument is actually over. In fact, as far as I can tell, it’s just getting worse, where worse should be interpreted to mean “even more people coming out of the woodwork to argue about ethics when they don’t have any familiarity with ethics.” Granted, Twitter is full of sample bias, but still. It is for this reason that I think it’s still important to post this statement on the ethics of providing unproven interventions that my husband (a real life bioethicist) and I worked on last week. We were side-tracked by needing to actually verify the science behind ZMapp, as well as the additional hands-throwing-up of hearing that ZMapp was provided for a Spanish priest after various US public officials stated there was none left to give.2


Paternalism, Procedure, Precedent
The Ethics of Using Unproven Therapies in an Ebola Outbreak

A “secret serum.” A vaccine. A cure. A miracle. With the announcement of the use of ZMapp to treat two Americans sick with the Ebola virus with apparently no ill effect, the hum and buzz on social media, commentary websites, and even the 24/7 news cycle, has become one of “should the serum be given to Africa? Will it?” The question has dominated for more than a week, and become something that the World Health Organization feels it needs to address by convening a panel of medical ethics experts to offer an analysis of what should be done.

And the general question about untested cures/vaccines in the event of a disease pandemic is an important one; there are already guidelines for what kind of treatments can and will be made available during a flu pandemic, and it seems quite sensible that a guideline be developed for all potential pandemic pathogens. However, it isn’t a question that is relevant in the current context, because we are already past that.

While people may be stating “should the serum be made available?” that’s not the question being asked.
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Wielding a Red Pen: Correcting a Fear-mongering Ebola Piece with Facts

If you catch me on Twitter, or read the fantastic Red Ink, you might have seen my corrections and edits to the first page of a genuinely awful, fear-mongering piece on Ebola that was inexplicably published by Pacific Standard.Per policy, I won’t drive traffic to horrible pieces. You can find it on your own relatively easily. You might have also realized why:

  1. I was forbidden from grading in red ink when I TA’d (“did you dip that in red ink?”);
  2. I was consistently voted most likely to become a doctor or teacher in those elementary school “most likely” contests.

Sorry about that. Well, at least the second one; handwriting has never been my strong suit. Due to said possibly challenging handwriting, I figured I would go ahead and expand on my comments here.Okay, most of this is taken from a Facebook rant the other day that accompanied a snapshot of the edits I did. I’m not sure if this counts as self-plagiarism or self-citing.
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The Flaw in “Where Did it Come From?!” Ebola Panic Narratives

I am an aficionado, if you will, of the mystery plague novel. I can probably place the blame for that somewhere between my father and the science fiction he raised me on, and Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain.I was always bitter about the differences between book and movie, moreso than just about any other adaptation. And of course, one of the key aspects of the mystery plague novel is the driving question of “where did it come from?” The thinking typically goes that if we know the plague origin, we can cure it, and a panicked rush to discover both origin and cure drives many (if not most) stories in the genre.

So it’s not too surprising to see the mystery plague origin pop up in the West Africa Ebola outbreak coverage. There seems to be a lot of concern about it’s unknown origins, how did the virus get from Central Africa to West Africa, and assertions that this must mean mutation of some sort.I’m not linking because I refuse to drive traffic to bad science. It’s not hard to find the stories, if you know where to look.

A quickly pulled together map showing the combined ranges of fruit bats mentioned in Hayman DTS, Yu M, et al., save straw-colored bats, along with the current Ebola outbreaks in West African countries.
A quickly pulled together map showing the combined ranges of fruit bats mentioned in Hayman DTS, Yu M, et al., save straw-colored bats, along with the current Ebola outbreaks in West African countries.
All of which, of course, is of limited accuracy to flat-out wrong. In fact, you don’t even need to know what you’re looking for to find this information; I was looking for an outbreak map when I came across this Emerging Infectious Diseases letter from 2012: Ebola Virus Antibodies in Fruit Bats, Ghana, West Africa. The authors of the letter found a relatively high proportion of EBOV-seropositive bats in a small sample size of mixed bat species across Africa.

Africa. Not Central Africa. Not West or South or Noth. Just Africa. Which is a big continent, but bats? They have wings. And while the EBOV-seropositive bats were largely not straw-colored fruit bats, which often migrate as far as 1550 miles/2500 kilometers, they did have a significant range.

It didn’t take terribly long for Ian MackayHe’s the real deal. If you really want to understand viruses, find a virologist to throw questions at. I recommend Dr. Mackay, but I’m biased—he answers my questions, after all. to find a newer issue of EID reporting on testing Sierra Leone patient serum samples and finding a range of viral hemorrhagic diseases, including Ebola. Shortly after, he found a paper discussing EBOV antibodies in fruit bats in Bangladesh.

It isn’t a surprise that fruit bats are implicated in this current outbreak of Ebola, since they’ve long been considered a possible reservoir for the disease, and may also be the host. Nor is it terribly surprising that the bats have this large of a range, or even that as human settlement encroaches into the forest, there will be more spillover events. The bats, the humans moving into new habitat, the zoonotic virus spillovers; these are all part of the story of Ebola. It’s a story we’ve been piecing together for 38 years, because science is never so fast as it is in the books and movies, and it’s a story where the origin probably won’t inform the cure.

The mystery plague origin is one that appeals, and it’s easy to write. It plays into books and movies, people know the expected narration, and there’s a thrill to it; “is this the one?” as speculation for people who don’t really have to worry about if “this is the one.” It also ignores science and evidence, and turns real life tragedy into an adrenaline-based fictional story for reading before bed, erasing the victims, from that first family who died in December 2013, to those who died just a few minutes ago.

Attempting to Incite Trans Panic Requires More than a Nonpology

You always hear that covers are an art, but I’m not sure how much anyone really realizes that until they’ve worked on a cover (copy or art). Sure, you learn really fast when you publish something that shouldn’t have made it out of concept, but there’s a strange blindness that sometimes comes over you when you work on something too closely. If this seems strangely sympathetic to you, well, I am. I’ve been on the receiving end of the letters and calls that happen when cover art goes wrong, and I’ve made the point of trying very hard to learn what readers say when something does go wrong—which, thankfully, hasn’t happened to me in a very, very long time.But boy was that first time a doozy. I hadn’t even technically been around when the issue was released, but I sure as hell heard about it from Every Single Nurse who was tired of being portrayed as a sexpot in a tiny white dress. Safety note: NEVER picture a nurse like that on your cover. NEVER.

July11CoverWhich is why, when I saw the July 11, 2014 cover of Science Magazine, I winced in sympathy. They were going to catch hell for it, that much was obvious, and it seemed obvious that it was just a matter of thoughtlessness that led to a sexist, reductionist image of lovely headless female bodies on a cover discussing means of reducing HIV in the Southern Hemisphere.See, occasionally I am still an optimist. TEACHES ME.

I tweeted some vague comment of oh, bad cover, suck it up and admit it was a mistake, it happens in publishing, don’t repeat it, etc and platitude, and then went on about the Internet. Surely the CDC had done something else worth mocking, and I didn’t want to miss it.

That is when I saw Dr. Jacquelyn Gill‘s engagement with Science Magazine’s career editor, Jim Austin. Rather than attempt to summarize the conversation, I’ll just show it to you:
AustinTweets
Needless to say, the notion that Austin was defending the idea of inciting trans panic because it would be “interesting” didn’t go over terribly well. You should read Kate Forbes’ explanation of why this is emblematic of the problem with science (rather than Science Magazine alone) at this Shakesville post. You could also read what Andrew David Thaler and Emily Finke had to say at Southern Fried Science or Mad Art Lab, respectively.

Rather than repeat their excellent points, what I want to focus on is the apology from Science Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, Marcia McNutt. Or, really, her classic nonpology.You can read the full apology without my commentary at this link. I’ll be using my primer on apologies as reference for how to apologize, since once again, we apparently need to go over this every couple of months.

The letter begins:

From Science Editor-in-Chief Marcia McNutt:
Science has heard from many readers expressing their opinions and concerns with the recent [11 July 2014] cover choice.

The cover showing transgender sex workers in Jakarta was selected after much discussion by a large group and was not intended to offend anyone, but rather to highlight the fact that there are solutions for the AIDS crisis for this forgotten but at-risk group.

Apparently this is an incredibly forgotten at-risk group, since the number of times the word “transgender” appears in this oh-so-special Strategies Against HIV/AIDS issue of Science Magazine? Three times.It’s possible I missed one or two; I did your basic “open the open access articles, search on “trans” and see what comes up. Transmission was very popular. That said, to be technical, it was only two times, if you consider the fact that at one point they use the word “transgenders,” which, per GLAAD Media guidelines on writing about transgender folks, is problematic. Transgender is an adjective, not a noun.

And just to clarify, McNutt: I was willing to give you a pass for a bad idea when I thought you were just attempting to sell Science via marginalizing and sexualizing women’s bodies. It’s nothing new, it’s just aggravating. The minute I had that context you seem to think I needed to find the cover okay, that the image was of transgender women in Jakarta who are also sex workers? That is when I became appalled, both that there is apparently not a single person in the entire editorial process at Science Magazine who has the ability to call stop on such a bad idea (either because no one saw it or no one felt safe in calling it out), and because your staff feel gotcha! trans panic is an appropriate artistic intent behind a cover.

Said apology continues:

A few have indicated to me that the cover did exactly that, but more have indicated the opposite reaction: that the cover was offensive because they did not have the context of the story prior to viewing it, an important piece of information that was available to those choosing the cover.

Apparently I should have said “said so sensible explanation continues,” as this isn’t an apology. This is a “well, SOME PEOPLE got it” defense. Oh sure, more people didn’t get it, but some people still did, so see? See? It’s not only Science Magazine that understood. Other people did, too.Gosh, why do you have to be so sensitive? Okay, okay, wait, the next paragraph! Surely the apology is there, and one merely needed to establish context for what was being apologized for, if somewhat clumsily.

I am truly sorry for any discomfort that this cover may have caused anyone, and promise that we will strive to do much better in the future to be sensitive to all groups and not assume that context and intent will speak for themselves.

— Marcia McNutt, Editor-in-Chief, the Science family of journals

Well damn. It looks like we’ve got ourselves a genuine nonpology here! We have:

  • apologies for how you feel, which shifts the focus on to you and implies that this is an obligatory response because of how you feel, rather than any actual belief in having made a mistake;
  • a “may have caused” variation on the “if I offended anyone” nonpology that is frequently found falling out of politicians’ mouths;She kept the nonpology short and sweet and classic over on Twitter: “we apologize to those offended.”
  • a nebulous promise of doing better without any indication that they’ve absorbed what the problem was to begin with.

To reiterate, an apology needs to do four things. It should: articulate and clearly recognize what the problem is; accept responsibility, without blaming anyone else (including the “if you felt” defense); express remorse in a clear, concise manner; and explain the remedy that will prevent this mistake from ever occurring again.

In particular, McNutt’s choice to completely ignore Austin’s “gazey” comments and subsequent comment that moral indignation is boring is problematic, because without addressing how Science will pull in the reins of this editor, there is absolutely no reason for anyone who is aware of the numerous problems in this cover to believe that there is any remedy that can happen. While Austin can defend his Twitter account as “personal” all he wants, he identifies who he is, who he works for, and does work representing Science Magazine on that account. He cannot then decide to offend numerous people and skip away from his affiliation as “nope nope all mine, not them.”

Science may have an image problem, but right now, the problem at Science Magazine clearly goes well beyond image—or cover.